The Voice Holds The Key
She said, "I can’t let it out. I can never let it out. There’s too much behind it, waiting to open like tidal waves. I feel overwhelmed at the thought of those waves crashing through my body."
She goes on to say, “It’s been in me a long time. I’ve been rewired by it now—my bones, my brain, my skin, and my ribs all holding it safely under wraps.”
I gently ask her to explain more about the feeling of it being “safely under wraps.”
She describes it feels like a vine growing upwards from the ground, starting in her legs and twisting and turning through her body. She’s afraid that it will eventually suffocate her.
As she speaks, I notice the vine starting to slowly move inside her like a snake. Little signs of it at first and then her body shifts and contorts. I tell her, “Use your voice. Let it out. Express those feelings.”
She opens her mouth and releases a roar—a lion’s roar. It’s raw, powerful, and unstoppable. Things intensify as she allows the vine to untwist and unravel its grip within her.
I trust the process. I’ve seen it happen time and time again. This is natural. It’s beautiful. It’s evolutionary. It’s vital. This untwisting—this liberation of the energy trapped within us—is desperate for the light of a new day.
I’ve witnessed what happens when that energy, that ferocity, that desire for survival and light, begins to fight its way to freedom.
There’s a battle for true freedom, and it’s necessary to release what we’ve been holding inside.
There’s nothing to fear. Once you experience it—the release, the freedom, the liberation from the psychic chains—you’ll do it over and over again. You’ll want more of it. And that freedom is available for you. It’s available for us all.
Yes, it’s your voice that needs to open to allow the movement, the flow of energy. And yes, your voice is your most precious tool for freedom, awakening, and self-expression.
She says, “I had no idea how much I was holding. I was prepared to live like this for my whole life.”
I ask, “What about now?”
She replies, “I feel hope. I feel compassion and love for myself that I thought had died long ago. I think I can sing now. I can’t wait to start.”
It’s not your voice that’s the problem—it’s what your voice is holding down inside of you, for you.