As the cars drove past me, they could probably see me passionately mouthing a song as I drove past them, and maybe they wondered what song was blasting in my car as I boldly imitated the artist’s voice.

It would surprise them if they opened the car door and realized that there was no music; only my voice could be heard, singing acapella, for the first time in I couldn’t tell you how long…

Happy November!

I was going to write yesterday, because after realizing we have two more months left in the year, I wanted to challenge myself to go back to blogging a post every day into the New Year.

Lots has happened since I last wrote, and I haven’t done a very good job really thinking through everything through writing. So I figured it was high time I got back into the blogging game! And maybe even share some poetry with you guys along the way too 🙂

My first day of November was pretty crazy — my Nalgene water bottle that I’ve had since my freshman year of college broke (those who know me and my love of water know that this is a sad loss for me. Thankfully, a friend is gifting me with a new one!), there was a tornado warning at the preschool I work at, and the radio in my car blew a fuse, leaving me music-less for the rest of yesterday, and into today.

And that’s what I want to focus on right now — me having no music in my car. Because honestly, who even drives without playing any type of music, or listening to talk radio or a podcast? If you know someone, please let me know!

But yesterday as I drove from my first job to my second, the silence encouraged me to pray out loud for all the people and things that had been on my mind lately. And this morning, I was able to do the same thing. This afternoon, I was missing my music more, and without realizing, I broke out into song on my own (I sang SZA, “Supermodel,” then went straight into “Love Galore”).

And as I sang, I realized I hadn’t really heard myself sing without the music in my car for quite sometime. My voice sort of baffled me; is that what I really sounded like? Why hadn’t I sang in silence before?

Then I started to think how probably most people don’t truly know the sound of their own voice. And beyond that, why can’t we detach our voices from the sounds of others? Why is it that we sometimes only feel comfortable singing when the music is playing, when our voice is hidden behind that of an artist?

And apart from singing, can we be honest and say that we’re comfortable hearing our own voices? Past the busyness of life, can we hear ourselves? Some of us love hearing the sound of our voice, and others not so much. And if you hear your voice, what is it saying? What is the message you’re trying to express? And are you talking to yourself, or are is what you’re saying also meant for others to hear?

I did, in fact, fix my car radio tonight – just had to fix the fuse! But I’m grateful for the short time of silence I had without it, and I’m honestly more encouraged to ride in silence more often just to hear the sound of my voice, in prayer and in song.

I fear that we’ve forgotten the sound of our own voices.
We are so consumed by the things around us, the noises of every day life
Drown out our speech, our whispers, our singing…
It isn’t until we’re left in silence —
Phone dead, car radio broken, any trace of anyone, non-existent —
That we open our mouths.
And I bet that the sound of your own voice will snap you awake, it’ll
Take you back to a time when you knew what you sounded like because maybe now
Your voice is unfamiliar, foreign.
And it’s taken a forced moment in the quiet for you to remember your unique sound.
Stay still; breathe it all in, 
Actually listen to yourself. 
And know that your voice has the same value in the silence as it does in the chaos.

Mishy 🦋

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