Emily Dickinson

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words... --Emily Dickinson

Today I have been practicing and, while I can feel resistance in the muscles at the back of my tongue, I suddenly feel like the voice I've always known exists inside my throat is actually making new attempts to unleash itself from my body. After so many years of grappling with this thing I feel that I might just manage to sing well enough to satisfy myself and make some recordings of myself I don't absolutely dread. Maybe I'll even enjoy listening to them.

Earl, the Shaman from the Ferry to St. George's in Bermuda, sent me a message of hope. He said I should have the patience of Job because something I've been wanting to happen for a long time will finally happen if I am just patient. Well, I believe that Earl is a messenger of God. When I left Newark airport on my way to Bermuda I couldn't understand the purpose of that trip. It wasn't a particularly fun island, Rich and I are losing all romance between us and I have been dull and lifeless regarding my life and my future. Nothing about going to Bermuda was particular exciting or happy. But, I know that all things in this life have a purpose. Earl, the Shaman was in Bermuda and I had to meet him on that ferry to receive his message. Honestly, I could not have foreseen that a ferry ride to St. Georges would have yielded such a message. And I count myself lucky for being there to receive it because I've started practicing again as if I have a purpose in continuing to sing.

Perhaps my voice is meant to be heard after all?

I suppose we shall see as we go along.