A Second Voice

I've come to realize that in my life I have two voices.

There is the live version of me and the paper version.

I'm OK with my live version, but it's not my best I think. In person, I'm often not able to present the person I think I am inside my head. It's really quite simple. I often get a bit flustered and chatter on about all sorts of drivel. I sometimes just clam up. I almost never say the "smart" things I have in my head. Sometimes I'm funny, but it's all wrong.

Always it seems that I'm replaying the conversations in my head after the fact. That is when I realize my lost opportunity to say something. It's when I see what I should have said or not said. These are the moments when I realize that I didn't make the eye contact I wanted to. I missed my moment to connect.

In hindsight I always see how completely distracted I am by all the things going on around me. The other people walking around, the other conversations, my kids, the idea that someone might be looking at the scene or overhearing my nutty chatter.

My second voice is on paper. I sometimes stink just as much on paper as I do live, and often for the same reasons, but on paper, I just feel like I can see clearly. Or at least speak clearly. But also, on paper, I'm mostly just talking to myself. I think I'd be scared to death if the people I wanted to have reading my words were really doing so. The mostly anonymous fog of the Internet makes me brave at times.

On paper my voice is solid, not wavering. My opinions are formed and have weight. On paper I feel like I can so easily and quickly give voice to the things of the heart that otherwise take so very long to get to. My paper voice is the voice inside my head. It's the voice that has all these conversations with myself. It is the voice of all the scenes that play out behind my eyes.

Paper allows for clarity and eloquence, where live life allows for fear. Sometimes it takes me weeks to talk myself into having a conversation with a person. Even then, I often never get to the things I really wanted to say.

And so as I back read this, I think well now, where is that clarity of voice that I was talking about. But yet, just the same, this does make sense to me. Deep within my heart I feel it resonate with truth. There is a weight about words that is found for me only on paper.

Perhaps it is all something I will grow into over time. It's possible my two "sides" will unite and become a single, but maybe not. I think I almost sort of like them separate. With the two I am able to reflect and learn.

One of these days, I'll be brave and say the risky things. It happens more and more all the time. Sometimes I even take myself by surprise. Maybe it's just a strange combination of late bloomer. I always looked old for my age and so sometimes I think I'm a little slow on the growing up process. Kind of a funny outlook for a late 30's chick with 3 kids, but I often think that's really the case.

Enough rambling for one day. I've got paper work piling up and laundry piles too. I'll leave the piles in my mind for another moment in time.