Finding my Voice

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It’s taken me a lifetime to find my voice, to speak from my heart. I’ve always said what I think but for a long time in the right company, in the company of those that would understand. As a child I agreed with everyone else, it’s a Virgo trait to want to keep people happy. In fact I think it was more than that, I didn’t have my own voice, I had the voice of society, the voice of everybody else.

I still want to be liked, it’s deep rooted, it’s connected to experience and that ego mind of mine, but today I’m not as bothered. I want to be liked by those that get me, I hope people will listen and consider my opinion but it’s not important and I could well be wrong, I’m still finding myself and therefore my voice might change.

So what is finding your voice, for me it is discovering yourself, your self expression in whatever form it presents. Your own unique voice is passionate, it’s your own authenticity, it’s your truth. It probably won’t be like anyone else as it’s unique to each of us, our voice is our own expression of life.

Artists understand what it is to have their own voice, poets, writers, dancers and painters because their voice is their craft, they speak from the heart, they understand individuality. That to me is owning your voice, it’s speaking from the heart, speaking from the absolute knowing inside of each of us.

So is it our voice or the realisation that we are truth, we are connected and finding that connection gives us our uniqueness. I know that doesn’t make a lot of sense but bare with me. I’ve found my connection, I’m in touch with a universal consciousness and yet I present my own understanding of it, I’m unique in how I choose to present it. If we were all the same we would all be dancing, I have two left feet but I can hear the rhythm of the universe in my heart.

I’m in love with nature and nature has given me a voice and that voice is my understanding of natures message. I am the the author of my own voice and yet that voice comes through a connection with the universe.

If we think about a rose, it’s not the same as any other rose, it presents us with it’s own understanding of growth and this is influenced by it’s surroundings, it’s experience of the world. That’s how we find our voice, it’s an inner knowing which comes to the surface through experience, as experience helps us to listen.

Here’s a question, is knowing ourselves the truth or is it influenced by our experiences here, are the experiences to remind us of who we really are, or are they to challenge us.

I’ve found my own voice as the person I am, the human, I hope it connects with what is true but at the moment it’s my truth.

~

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Trip to the Park

I went to Brighton to meet a friend for coffee yesterday, we met at Preston Park. It’s only a few weeks since I was there but the change is immense. I really enjoyed walking around, talking to the flowers as I do ūüėČ

Summer has arrived in the UK this week and I’m loving it.

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A thirsty tree
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Running Water

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I took quite a few photos, some individual flowers I might use in posts but wanted to show you the beauty of my walk.

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Impression of a Flower

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The flower whispered in my ear,

it was so close to me.

Heard it speak inside my head,

it wished to help me see.

For flowers grow as they do,

flowers come from love.

The flower told me gently,

it came down from above.

To work with mother nature,

to show us how to live.

To remind us of our promise,

in life we have to give.

Relying on the rains that fall,

the sunshine in the sky.

The flower is our teacher here,

the flower doesn’t lie.

It shows us how to open up,

to let things fall away.

To bow our heads at nightfall,

to wait another day.

Flowers feed all sorts of bees,

teach us how to share.

Doesn’t hold onto its pollen,

to give yourself is to care.

The flowers isn’t afraid of death,

knows it will return.

Always being springs to see,

lots more here to learn.

The flowers think we’re stupid,

in a sort of kindly way.

Not knowing we’re connected,

really don’t have a say.

We keep returning to the earth,

we get it wrong again.

Don’t understand our lessons,

judge them just as pain.

We remember more as babies,

but forget so very soon.

Unlike the gentle flowers,

we loose it when we bloom. 

It gave me a strong impression,

that it wanted to help me see.

So I would write a poem right here,

on how flowers want us to be.

~

Impression

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The Field

Life is like walking barefooted across a field. Wild flowers spread out across the field in front of us, some in the sunshine and those under the tree. Each flower we come across is a different experience, a person we meet, a moment in time.

Each flower is a lesson, a message from the divine, a memory coming to the surface. We cannot possibly experience each and every flower, there are too many to encounter, some will be here next time we cross. 

Make the most of each flower you see on your way across the field, look closely at it, see how it shimmers in the sun, listen to it but do not pick it. As you reach the other side, take a deep breath, hold onto what you have learnt, it may be a while before you cross again.

~ Liza

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A Space in Time


I found the space I needed, 

though I didn’t know it at the time.

A space to clear my thoughts away, 

a space to give me time.

I didn’t know I was searching,¬†

it quite took me by surprise.

I thought I needed people near, 

such space I’d never tried.

But I’m finding myself in openness,¬†

time is mending my heart.

I know that life will wait for me, 

be waiting when I start.

I’ve found a little space in time,¬†

a safe space for recovery.

I now know that I’ve needed this,¬†

just took me a while to see.

I thought this place would be boring,

that people I’d need to find.

But I’ve found a piece of heaven here,¬†

it’s so gentle on my mind.

~


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