I don’t know about the rest of you, but I have a voice in my head. Not several, mind you. Nothing too psychotic. Just a single voice.
It’s been there as long as I can remember. If I were to describe it, it’s a lot like those cartoons with the little angel on one shoulder and the little devil on the other shoulder of the character, each providing unsolicited advice.
My voice handles both duties. It’s the reason why I’ve done some pretty amazing things in my life, things others would never even think of attempting. It’s also been responsible for me being temporarily homeless a few times, a bridge burner in the working world, a bit of a bon vivant and someone who has managed to have not one, but three ex-wives (the first to collect the whole set, as I always say).
Sometimes this voice yells at me. It tells me to work harder at being a good writer. It encourages me to be a better friend. To love more completely. To be more true to myself. Be more truthful with myself and others. The list goes on and on. And if I don’t listen, never to worry. It will yell at me some more in the future.
It’s talking to me right now, in fact. It’s telling me what to write as I type. It can add inflection, warn of a dangling participle, suggest alternative words or phrases, and blessedly, it tells me when I am through. That the words I’ve put down are always sufficient, and often great, and even, on occasion, brilliant.
Who’s doing all the talking? No, it’s not some possessed spirit, though I’ve had my share of that as well (another article, sometime, perhaps). No, it’s my voice I hear, reading to me, dictating to me, and yes, encouraging me and at times, delivering admonishment.
I’ve been told that half of us have that voice in our heads that we can hear. The other half don’t. I don’t really know why this is so. The easy way to test it for yourself is to read a passage of text. If you hear a narration in your head, you’re one of those who has that voice. I think it’s pretty cool, myself. I used to think everyone had this ability and only in the last few years, did the research on it to find that only half are wired this way.
So what is mine telling me now? It’s telling me to get to work. To start using my talents – to get back out in public and start performing for those who are less fortunate as I, as I used to in Seattle. It’s giving me the first lines of lyrics to an original song – something I haven’t written in many years. That there are some amazing people I’ve ignored for the past few years that are now back in my life… people that I should have never let go. And it’s letting me know that everything is going to be OK in my world. Sorry, not just OK, but amazing!
If only the voice in my head had done this all a few years ago. Could have saved a bit of time. But I know I wouldn’t have been ready to listen back then. But I am now…
… yes, I know, time to end this diatribe. Time to get back to work. Time to listen to that voice some more and see where its never-ending narrative wants me to go today with my life.
– Til Again,
Robb