Amongst other things, I’m a musician – my degree’s in music and I’m a music teacher…
Over the years, then, I’ve sung with many choirs and ensembles, big and small. Singing with others, it’s essential that I have a voice. However, if I don’t also listen carefully to all the other voices, and pay attention to them, and make sure that my voice is in accord with theirs, in harmony with the whole, and helping to make the overall sound more as it should be, then it would be better for me to remain silent.
Likewise, in everyday life, it’s important to find one’s own voice and, having found it, to use it – to speak out and to be heard. This is indisputable, I think, in the interest of fairness and, where we see people who don’t have a voice, or whose voices are not heard, those of us who are more fortunate try – hopefully – to use our advantage to help them to their own emancipation; to a place where they, too, have a voice and where that voice is heard.
Perhaps, though, it’s even more important to listen - try to understand where other voices are coming from – other human voices and our own internal voices and the voices of the Universe, or of Divinity itself.
Just as when I’m singing with a choir, it’s through listening that we are able to put our own voices in the context of the whole, to use them in a way that’s positive and affirming and to make sounds with them that are beautiful and useful and good.
I Will Speak
I will be still
and hear the whisper of the world,
the song of stars
and the symphony of the spheres.
I’ll listen, with all my inner and outer ears
- and hear.
In the silence, full of murmurings,
I’ll listen for the wisdom that quietude brings
- absorb the Still Small Voice,
the Eternal Breath,
assimilate the mysteries of life and death
and rest in stillness and solitude…
Speak like a creeper,
like clematis climbing silent and strong,
fragility making love to stone and coaxing it to life.
Speak like scallop shells,
with the whisper of the ocean
and the promise of pearls that shimmer and shine
- not to be cast before swine,
but spun before morning to sunshine’s gold.
Speak like the mountain stream
that cannot be restrained,
bubbling up from the gestating dark
to flow exuberant
- to journey and grow,
water of life through valleys and cities
and onwards, to the welcoming sea…
Speak as tonic and trickster,
restoring and provoking in equal measure.
Speak words that are heard, and felt and seen.
So, I will speak;
but listen first, and last,
and ever in between.
and ever in between.
Ruth Calder Murphy is a writer, artist, music teacher, wife and mother living in London, UK. Her life is wonderfully full of creativity and low-level chaos. She is the author of two published novels, “The Scream" and "The Everlasting Monday", several books of poetry and one or two as-yet unpublished novels. She is passionate about celebrating the uniqueness of people, questioning the unquestionable and discovering new perspectives on old wonders. She is learning to ride the waves that come along—peaks and troughs—and is waking up to just how wonderful life really is. More of Ruth's Spiritual poetry, with intros can be found in her book, "Spirit Song" and the soon-to-be-released sequel, "River Song". You can visit Ruth and view more of her art on her website, or on her writer's page on Facebook. Her books are available on Amazon, here.