I’ve almost entirely lost my voice. I can whisper or I can squeakily force a few words out. But, ultimately, I can’t effectively talk.

Getting two little girls awake and out of bed, dressed, breakfast eaten,  medications taken, hair brushed, shoes on, coats on, hats and gloves on and out the door with everything they needed (backpack, snacks, homework, etc) with limited ability to verbally direct them was a challenge. Calling my doctor on the phone to make an appointment was also a challenge.

I could get upset. I could get mad. I could get frustrated that I essentially cannot communicate in my usual manner. It wouldn’t do any good though. It wouldn’t change the fact that I’ve lost my voice.

And, looking back, it’s not the first time it’s happened to me. At least once a year, usually during the cold season, my voice disappears. The majority of the cold season I’m fighting some kind of sickness. Colds go right to bronchitis for me. Flus stick around longer than they do for others. And my throat gets “messed up.” (I’ve been told by my Ear, Nose and Throat doctor that I will need to have my tonsils out, though the connection to my lost voice is weak.) Every year I get upset that these things happen. I get angry and mad and frustrated. I fall into beliefs of “it’s not fair” and “why me”.

Billaday: Flickr

Why? All my resistance and beliefs have never shown even the slightest change. In fact, in behaving in that manner I likely prolong my sickness. Negativity is a sickness all on its own.

Of course I don’t want to be sick. Of course I’d like to be able to talk and communicate. Over-focusing on all the things I want and don’t have doesn’t propel me forward. Instead I become entrapped in the black-and-white, pity thinking of how horrible it is. I get lost in the darkness.

There is another side to the darkness. To the negativity. In every situation, regardless of how dark and desolate it is, there is some light. It just needs to be sought out and discovered. If this sounds like a load of bullshit, I hear you. I’ve been there. I’m still there somewhat. I won’t tell you how to see the world or what to do, as we are each in control of our own lives and our own choices. Only you can decide if you wish to seek out the positives that lie within the negative experiences in your life. It isn’t always an easy task to take on.

For myself, there is no longer another choice. The journey of self-discovering is never-ending and there is no map. Navigating through the darkness and negativity to uncover light and positivity is exhilarating. Especially when I realize it was only hidden and always present. Expanding how I view the world, how I perceive experiences and how behave in relation to both is amazing. The paradigm shift that is occurring for me leads to growth in my life I previously had not thought possible.

How I have reacted and viewed losing my voice today is an example of that. The ability to speak only a few words is an opporunity for me to decide what is most important to be communicated. While I was initially nervous and predicting chaos for the morning routine with my daughters, quite the opposite happened. I framed the morning for them by telling them that I was losing my voice and couldn’t speak loudly. I then asked for their help in doing a good job listening and accomplishing what needed to be done. If I found myself needing to repeat myself so they could hear, I would motion for them to come closer to me so I wouldn’t strain my voice attempting to speak louder.

Early into the morning routine they both began to whisper as well, matching their volumes to mine. With the three of us all whispering, we needed to pay close attention to listening. By having limited vocal ability, I had to constantly choose if what I wanted to say was important enough to warrant depleting some of my voice. Surprisingly, in many cases, it wasn’t! The girls were both excellent at listening to directions and getting ready this morning. No one screamed (certainly not me!), there were no temper tantrums (even from me!) and we were out the door, well prepared, in better time than the rest of this week.

Perhaps I should lose my voice more often! Being required to continuously allow only statements of absolute importance to be spoken is a task I’d like to attempt to continue. How often we let everything we think become verbalized. How much of what we say is actually needed to be said? I’m grateful for the ability to discover the positive in this situation. I’m even more grateful for my daily ability to speak and communicate with my voice. For the moment, my lack of one will be viewed as a reminder of such gratitude.