Smell of fear
by Elouise
Smell of fear
Binds her tongue
Without
And within
Residue
Of storms
Long past
Hovering
Just beyond
Eyesight
Deep within
Her psyche
Spawning fear
Of her powerful
Voice locked
In neutral
Going nowhere
I always die a little when I speak in public. It doesn’t matter how confident or calm I sound on the outside. I shake on the inside, sometimes trembling physically when I’m finished. If fear were a fragrance, I would reek of it.
I’ve always chalked this up to being an introvert with thin skin. Afraid of what people will think of me and my ideas. Especially when I’m speaking in a religious setting.
Little wonder. My thinking and writing about God, the world and Christian faith aren’t always considered acceptable, much less mainstream by either more conservative or more liberal listeners.
Nonetheless, I think this fear runs deeper.
This weekend I had a small dialogue with myself about my voice. Especially my writing voice. I love it. Often, looking back at old posts, I’m moved to tears.
Nonetheless, I’ve been dragging my feet on the idea I floated well over a month ago. Dragging my feet while pretending to move ahead. Hoping to generate enough energy to begin working on an e-book of selected postings.
This past weekend, I hit pay dirt. Here’s what I wrote in my journal on Friday and Saturday evenings, lightly edited for clarity.
Friday evening, after lots of agonized words about getting nowhere.
Right now this is an undocumented project. Notes, but no measurable, incremental steps recorded….I say I don’t have to do this, yet I want to do it! What’s holding me back? I want to know. I feel a little stuck and frightened. Of what? I don’t know. Am I afraid of my own voice?
Then Saturday evening:
Yes! I’m stuck and I’m frightened of my own voice…Today I read through about 15 of my most liked poems and chose one to reblog—the Amy post about being weary of my life—her lament that’s so like mine. “You are about my bed.” Where I’m lying—stuck and frightened of my own voice.
I accept this truth and want to welcome it as a stranger…rather than denying its existence, and thus denying the dormant power of my voice….Was this one reason my father tried to beat my voice out of me??? Did he see something I couldn’t see? Something that frightened or threatened him and his voice? “You are about my bed.”
And Sunday evening:
Yes! I have a powerful voice, and have had all my life.
I’m sure I’ll learn more along the way. But this is where I find myself today, Monday.
Thanks for listening and reading!
Elouise ♥
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 24 July 2017
Response to WordPress Daily Prompts: Fragrance; Dormant
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Elouise, I love your voice, too! And the many people who have been touched by your blog bear witness that you are not alone.
Virtual hugs,
Nancy
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Thank you for this encouraging comment, Nancy. And for the virtual hug. 🙂
Elouise
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They say first impressions are lasting so let me tell you my first impression of you – and how it affected me at first (and how you overcame it). I was in your theology class as you began your tenure at EBTS – at least on the first day. I came from a very conservative church that was (and still is) very resistant to feminism and female pastors. But my New Testament theology professor in college (University of Sioux Falls) challenged me to open my mind to newer interpretations of scripture.
I’m still pretty conservative about biblical authority however and I must admit that I am still overcoming some of my long-held biases. That first day of class you came on pretty strong, especially about having no tolerance for plagiarism. It wasn’t that you said anything I disagreed with. I probably was reacting more to the outspoken authoritarian way you presented yourself that day. It rubbed me the wrong way. Which undoubtedly tells you more about me than it does about you. But the end result was that you didn’t see me in class much that semester. I showed up enough to take the exams and pass the class. I still remember you writing a comment on a paper I turned in simply asking “Where have you been?”
Eventually we crossed mutual paths with Louis Kilgore and I had the opportunity to share some time with you at a lunch table. It was a brief encounter but during it I found the same sensitive, warm person that I find in these blog entries. And I am (still) learning to be less reactive to first impressions and more introspective on my own filters.
Confessions by a 57-year old Pastor.
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Dear Pastor Dan,
Your confessions brought back many memories–some wonderful, some not-so-wonderful. I’m grateful our first meeting wasn’t the last word about either of us! I began at the seminary in fall 1983. If I did my math correctly, I was going on 40, and you would have been about 24 years old. Good thing we’ve had a bit of time to grow and lose some of the rough edges. What you’ve written says volumes about your growth as a man and as a pastor. Thank so much for these good words, and for coming along with me on this part of my journey. God is always full of surprises! 🙂
Elouise
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What a wonderful poem.
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Thanks Herminia. 🦋
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My reaction on some such occasions is that my kneecaps shake up and down quite violently. On one such time I asked for some gaffer tape and tied it around my knees. It stopped the shaking and the audience was amused and I had their full attention.
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All I can say is better you than me! 😟😊
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I’d never thought of our posts as our voice, but it’s true. I’d imagine that in my case those that read my ramblings are better off than those that have to listen to them.
I’d also imagine by your writings that you’d be a very eloquent speaker once you started, and overcame any nerves.
It dawned on me that I had never spoken in public until quite recently, you may recall the name Susan: Doctor Unohoo’s wonder woman. she conned me into making my debut public appearance as a guest speaker,at some event she organized at the Royal Prince Alfred Hospital.
I was apprehensive to a point due to my hearing,or lack of it, also I’m inclined to mumble; but all went well, and if she cons me again I’ll go do a stand up solo. Might be fun, Heres the usual link
.
https://lordbeariofbow.com/2016/11/15/why-all-the-fuss/
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Thanks for the link, Brian! I’m off to read it asap.
As for me, I think you’d make a great speaker–but then I’ll likely never get to find out, will I? 😦
Elouise 🙂
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I love the thought of your posts being your words….spoken through the invisible distance that separates us, yet in writing, brings us all so close together as if in the same room. Amazing thing this internet and I’m so excited by a book of e writings too ❤ as a sign I saw this week in a thrift store that lit a fire under my butt, Just go do it! ha, the right messages at the write? time 🙂
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Thanks, Kim. The internet thing is way more personal and connectional than I anticipated. Which shouldn’t really surprise me, since writing has always been a huge life-changer for me whether I’m writing or reading what someone else wrote. As for the right message at the write time, you said it all! Just go do it! Onward…. 🙂 Your new job sounds demanding. Full of unexpected opportunities to connect (or not!) with people. A tiny mini-adventure every time you show up for work. E 🙂
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