Big Rowan Ackison (greensh) wrote,
Big Rowan Ackison
greensh

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Singing Again

Somewhere along the way I either read or heard a version of the following story...
There once was a young girl who loved to sing almost all the time. Her voice was lovely and her heart was light. The girls mother appreciated the little budding star and loved her very much. One day the mother was having a really tough day. The drive to work was one giant traffic jam. Work was a pain. The drive home wasn't much better than morning. The main course of dinner burned and a game preempted her favorite show. The mother's fuse was SO short by the time she collapsed in her chair, wishing that the day would just end. Meanwhile the young girl sang her songs and danced around her mother's chair. The mother snapped, pushed past her limits by the day, and she hollered at her daughter, "stop that singing, you are hurting my ears and I can't stand it". The daughter immediately quieted and the mother closed her eyes and wished for better days.

That was the last day that the young girl sang her songs. She didn't want to hurt her mother's ears. Her mother noticed that her daughter no longer sang, but she did not know why the change had taken place. You see, the mother could not make the connection between her snapped remark many days long ago and her grown daughter's behavior now. The daughter barely remembered the trigger for her insular behavior. One day a close friend pressed her on why she would not sing. The daughter realized why her voice remained quiet. Her mother had no wish for the daughter to remain forever song less. The cutting remark years ago was a thoughtless barb, cast out at a time when loving, rational thought was absent. At that point daughter had the choice to remain quiet, immersed in the pain and rejection of a past moment, or she could sing again as she embraced a part of herself that was buried so long ago. The daughter decided to sing new songs, and her voice rang true, free from the unintended bonds of the past.
This is a fine story, and those who read it should hope that the daughter would sing again. I wish it were that easy for we people who live with our own tales of this kind. Turning away from a moment of rejection can be very tough. I've wondered why, and feel that one reason is that the moment of rejection becomes a focal point for fears and self-doubt. The moment itself no longer holds the power it originally had. Instead it becomes the scapegoat for emotional baggage. Resistance to change is invested in a singular time and blame is unjustly heaped at the feet of the singular time. This is so difficult to overcome and I wish there was a fairy tale ending like the story had.
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