Before We Had Words
We Had Sound
Hello Beautiful Community! Happy Fall!
And here we are. Can you feel the change in season?
Here in the PNW, you can see it, feel it, and even smell it: the sun setting earlier each day, the cool, crisp air beginning to swirl in, that unmistakable scent of fall, and the settling down of summer’s buzzing energy.
To me, this time of the year feels like an invitation to turn the volume down a little.
This seasonal shift from summer to fall invites me to tune into my inner landscape, to listen more closely to what is moving within me and what may be asking to be acknowledged or expressed.
Last year, I began exploring the vibration of emotions and the sound of their energy. It has become a beautiful practice of slowing down, becoming present with what is moving within me, and allowing that energy to find expression through sound.
I am noticing that giving sound to emotions asks something different of me than giving them words.
Words often ask us to understand, explain, organize, or make meaning of what we are feeling.
Sound asks us to be present with what is.
No words, no perfect pitch, simply the resonance of what is here now. There is only this body. This breath. This moment. The vibration moving through it.
There is something primal about it. Something that feels older than language itself; the body remembering how to express before the mind knows what to call it.
Before we had words, we had sound.
Somewhere along the way, many of us also learned to silence our voice and contain our expression; sometimes because there are no words for what we feel, and sometimes because it felt safer to keep certain parts contained.
We may have learned not only to hold back our words, but also to quiet the sounds of grief, pleasure, anger, longing, and relief; all the instinctive expressions that once moved freely through us.
What if our voice is not only something we use to communicate, but something we experience?
What if sound can meet the places in us that words cannot yet reach?
What if resonance can give expression to what has been carried quietly within us?
Maybe this is the unspoken language of becoming.
Something deeply human and cathartic happens when we allow ourselves to return to that kind of expression.
I have felt this myself and witnessed it in others: what happens when we're given permission to move beyond words and let sound become part of what is already present. When something held quietly inside is given another way to move, be felt, and expressed.
These moments continue to deepen my curiosity about the ways our voice can accompany the work of returning to ourselves. How much do we miss when we are always searching for the right word? What might become available when we give ourselves permission to simply sound again?
As we move into this quieter season, perhaps we can become a little more curious about what is moving within us. Not everything is asking for words. Some sensations may be asking for a sigh, a hum, a tone, a laugh, or simply a sound that gives expression to the resonance within.
As always, if something here resonates with you, I would love to hear from you. You are always welcome to reply and share what this reflection stirred or awakened in you.
In resonance,
Michaela