The Voice In My Head

The first time I remember her, I was four.  She didn't speak at all back then.   She held my hand a lot, and my memory of her is completely visual, no sound, like a silent movie.   She had long black hair and wore cloaks, dark ones that reached to her feet, sometimes dark blue or black.  She had a beautiful milky white face and dark eyes that had smile lines, and she smiled at me often.   She took me to beautiful places; flower fields, riding horses, cliffs by the sea.   She was my disassociative Mother.   She was always waiting for me when the pain became too much, and I drifted away.  
 
I don't know much about what kinds of voices other people hear.  Son of Sam said he heard a voice telling him to kill.  I haven't done in depth psychological studies.   I am not prone to delve into the Hitler born era of the psychiatry world.  Maybe we hear the channels we are tuned into as children.  Maybe our parents and our conditioning choose for us what our third ears hear.  I have no explanation for anyone, except the understanding that I have of my own self.

I know that I became tuned into her actual voice and words about seven years ago.   I started opening up my spirit, slowly, very slowly, peeking my head up over the muck and trying to see what was outside of that black hole in which I had been buried.   I didn't hear her clearly.  I often shook her voice from my head.  After years of being called crazy and mentally ill, my psyche was working overtime to try and ignore what was going on in my mind and body. 

There are moments of my childhood that I experienced that hold no explanations.  There were no books read to me which planted seeds of knowledge.  No televisions to tell me of magical lands.  No conversations in my presence that spoke of mysticism.    There were moments I connected with something greater than myself, and I knew it wasn't anything that matched what was being preached to me by ministers.   I didn't know exactly what it was.  I knew only what it wasn't, and I knew that I loved it. 

I knew there was someone who protected me, who was there for me.  Was she an imaginary friend?  Did I make her up?  Was she a part of me?  She is so real to me, and I see her from my child eyes.  I see myself as a little girl, and I feel her as she is a separate entity from me.

Over the last couple of years, I've actively magnified my conversations.    I do not know if she is the same woman who was with me as a child, but I do know that I have active conversations with a woman.   She speaks loudly and clearly in my head, and she gives me wonderful guidance. 

I have come to have typical conversations with her.  Once, when I was driving to counsel a friend, I felt unsure of myself, and the conversation I struck up with her went like this:

Me:  I do not know how to get [name] to see that what she's doing is harmful to herself.
Her:  Don't focus on that.  It doesn't matter.  It is only important that you remind her of who she is.
Me:  Alright, I will do that.
Her:  You ramble too much.  Stop doing that shit.  Listen and give small reassuring reminders.
Me: You cussed (She never cusses).
Her:  Sometimes I have to talk like you so you'll understand me.

We laughed.

Yes, I have many conversations like these with her.

Last night, as I was starting to overwhelm myself she said,

"Stop it.   You're always doing that.  Stay in the moment."
Me:  I know you're right.
Her:  just let it flow.  stop over analyzing.  write the memory as you know it and move onto the next.  Before you know it, the book will be finished.
Me:  I know I can do this
Her: Yes, you can and you will.  It's your destiny.  It's why you're here.

I began to cry.

Me: Who are you?
Her:  I am your mother.  No, not the mother you had there.  I am your other Mother.

I asked her to explain.  She fell silent.  I could have easily gotten caught up into that conversation, but she falls silent when she is finished, and I knew that she had no more to say because I needed to be writing.

Sometimes, I sit silent and ask her if she has anything to say to me.   Sometimes she says, "No, just  keep moving forward, keep staying in that moment, keep not worrying about the next one.  you're doing a good job."

She encourages me, and I hope to meet her face to face soon, my spirit guide who has been holding my hand for so long.  I do not know if she is the same woman who held me when I was a child, but I know that she loves me and guides me in ways that keep me reminded of who I am and my purpose.

Maybe we should start listening more to "the voices in our heads.”  at least the ones who love us…. and let them drowned out the ones who don’t.