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Writer's pictureTricia Webster

Voice


I have been absent for a while. I was very much tired of the sound of my own voice, and couldn't see inflicting it on others! By some grace, a perfect storm of life changes that left me exhausted and exhilarated at the same time, I had arrived at an interesting realization: most of my altruistic, other-serving actions were really more about ME than anyone else. I am not discounting my contributions as I say this, and I honor the work I have done in the world, BUT (and that BUT is in capitol letters for a reason), I began to get a glimpse of another way of being: outward-focused rather than inward-focused.


As I began the painful work of re-lensing my life through an outward vs. an inward mindset, I questioned the very nature of my contribution. Everything was up in the air. Nothing was a given. It was extraordinarily freeing to realize that in any given moment there were two roads I could take. I could take the road of "me" or the road of "us."


I think I will write more of this another time, but what I want to speak of today is a small piece of this larger exploration. I had "gone underground" with my voice, but I realized that in doing so I was taking the very inward-focus I was trying to leave behind. An outward-focus demands a contribution. The world needs my voice.


When I facilitate meetings, I often remind participants that if they withhold their voice from the discussion, they are depriving the group of some key ingredient in the mix that is vital to the whole. I now remind myself of the same thing. That brings me to the photo.


I was staying on The Sea Ranch last week, and made a pilgrimage to one of my favorite places in the world, a redwood grove and waterfall hidden way off the main trail and missed by most hikers. I spent the first ten minutes or so noticing only the patterns of light and sound that this magical place weaves. Then a friend pointed out a spider's web. We moved closer to see. Another web appeared. Then another. As we moved to a new perspective on the trail, suddenly the light caught and illuminated dozens, or perhaps hundreds of webs in the tree branches. It was a landscape of dream catchers, shining in the sun!


We were overwhelmed by the intricacy and beauty. In the twenty or thirty visits I have made to this site in the past, I have never noticed a spider's web. We could just as easily have missed the miracle, catching it only through the perfect timing of the afternoon sun and its angle.


More than a miracle of nature, this proliferation of webs served as a gentle tap on the shoulder for me, a redirection. My surname is Webster, and my work has always been that of a Weaver, pulling together diverse groups of people, places and ideas and weaving them into masterpieces. A web is iconic to me. It is also a summons: remember who you are.


I believe we all have unique gifts. A friend calls them "superpowers." One of the greatest of human tragedies is to go through life and never find that power, or worse yet, to know it and not to use it, or to abuse it. My power, my voice in the world, is my weaver's skill. I think of the advice I give to those meeting participants, when I ask them not to withhold their voices. I am heeding my own advice. I will use my voice. I will weave again. I welcome you to that conversation and I seek a way that my voice and yours will weave together to create a power together that they would lack alone.



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