Unmuted

" If you hover your mouse over the little microphone icon, you will be able to click it and unmute yourself."

"John, John. I can hear the echo in your background.   Can you please click on the microphone beside your name in the participant panel and mute yourself please?   Thank you."

"Okay Mary.   Thank you for volunteering Mary.  No, we can't hear you Mary.   Mary, you need to unmute yourself. Mary, click on the unmute button please. Never mind, I will unmute you Mary.  Mary, you may now speak. Mary, are you still there?"

"Can you hear me?"

"No, we can't hear you Jane.   Unmute yourself Jane."

Repeat daily until 5pm.

***

It's actually quite brilliant this whole technology thing.   

We are able to control people in ways that could never exist in a meeting room or a live classroom, all by the power of a mute button.  

It's like we have the ability to wave a magic wand.

"aaaaand you are SILENCED."

No more out of Jan for the rest of this hour.

Now, where were we?

Oh, right.

I was muted.

***

I was muted by my 1st grade teacher in England.   Her name was Mrs. Ward.   She said "Be quiet Sarah.  Listen and you'll learn Sarah".   I know she said this because my Father repeated it to me throughout my entire life, and sometimes still does.  

"Remember what Mrs. Ward told you?   Be quiet Sarah.   Do you remember what Mrs. Ward said?"   She said "Listen and you'll learn".  "Yes Dad, I remember."

I was muted when I tried to tell on my Sister when I was little.   "For God's sake Sarah.   Just keep the peace and be quiet."

Keep the peace Sarah.   Don't start any trouble Sarah.   Stay quiet Sarah.

It's funny, really, the defining moments that happen along the way which shape our existence of how we behave.

In a meeting room, I'm always the last to speak.

Be quiet now Sarah and let your sister speak.

If we have enough time, I'll share my thoughts, but most times I let the others go first and I stay muted, just like I was always told until it's my turn to speak.

"Sarah, your speech was very good, but we cannot move a topic like this forward to competition in our school board."

Be careful what you talk about Sarah.   

That was grade 8.  My topic was AIDS.  

"What would everyone think if we allowed you to move on with a topic like that?"

I'm sorry.  I understand.  Next time I'll make sure I choose something more appropriate.

"Sarah, the part you are trying out for.   It was written for a boy.  You need to try out for the girl parts."

Follow the rules Sarah.   

Stay in your lane Sarah.

"Sarah, let me tell you a secret.  Can you keep a secret?  You have to promise me not to tell anyone.  Can you do that?"

"Turn your voice down Sarah.   I can hear you down the hall Sarah."

"You are so loud Sarah."

Whatever you do Sarah, just keep quiet.

Perhaps this is why I learned to express my thoughts through writing.   I can't be muted when I put a pen to paper.   No one has to click on the link if they don't want to hear what I have to say.  

Just click the beautiful button called "unfollow" and drown out any voice you don't want to hear.

***

As I start a new journey professionally and personally for the umpteenth time, I realize I have allowed myself to lose the power of my voice once again, as all those old gremlins dance and scream inside my head.   

Sarah, you can't sit still for one minute, can you?

Typical Sarah, off to the next best thing.

When are you going to stop Sarah?

When are you going to slow down Sarah?

What will people think Sarah?

You need to calm down Sarah.

I seem to have put myself on mute, unable to find the button to speak, regardless of where I hover the mouse.

I am chasing approval by my peers, trying to keep the peace like I was told, afraid to vocalize my opinion.   

I am afraid of judgement for what I post or what I say so I have taken the road of least resistance and remained silent.   

All my historical patterns are replaying in bold, vivid colours on repeat and I watch them all as I feel the pain of separation anxiety, codependency, love and gratitude mixed up with the comfortable sensations of humiliation, shame and guilt for the choices I've made.

It feels like COVID-19 has blown me like a tumbleweed through a Category 5 hurricane and I've landed crozzled up, a bit dusty and disoriented, trying to catch my breath - in a new home with a new job, grieving my past and trying to put one foot in front of the other and trust the path I've landed on.

*** 

I received a message last week and the last line said "How's your writing going?"

Busted.

So many thoughts went through my mind on how to reply.

How about "It's not going.   At all.  I'm afraid to write.   I'm afraid to speak.   I'm afraid all the voices are right.  I'm afraid to pretty much do anything.  I just want the whole rest of the world to be fixed up first and then maybe I'll try this all again".

As this all went through my head, I decided I could choose to be vulnerable and honest about my current state and take one step forward toward reusing my voice.

My commitment with my posts has always been to share my stories in hopes that it may inspire or resonate with someone else, including when it isn't all sunshine and roses.   

***

The truth is, this transition is scary, but necessary.   I have waves of anxiety that hit at any moment and disappear just as fast.   I feel like I'm tied like an umbilical cord to life as it was that I do not want to sever, with a child like curiosity as to what is in store for me next.  

I crave peace and harmony in all things past and present, and I spend an awful lot of time in reflection and silence.

I journal and watch the sunrise out my bedroom window every morning, in awe of the colours of nature and grateful for this unexpected universal gift.

And I am confident that my humour and creativity are resting nicely, waiting for the right timing to resurface and cause a giggle in someone's newsfeed.

Perhaps Mrs. Ward was onto something after all, but if I had a student to share her message with, I think I'd expand it to read like this.

"As you walk through the days of your life, take time in stillness and remember to listen.   The most powerful guidance to hear is the voice inside you that is often silenced.  Your body will ache and respond loudly if you are not paying attention - and although transitions are difficult, you will float higher than a kite when you are in alignment and all will flow with a bit more grace and ease.   Listen and you'll learn and when you discover something unique to share with the world - for God's sake, do not sit quietly, nor be afraid.  Have the courage to take control of the mute button and speak loudly and clearly for everyone to hear. For there is no greater power than to use the strength of your voice for the good of all."