The other side of finding your voice

I’ve been thinking about how the sound of some one’s voice can have impact on our moods, our life choices, our happiness or grumpiness. It’s fascinating how the power of one voice can effect the emotions or well being of another human being is really astounding.

Whether or not you’re a baby in a womb hearing your muma and dudda sing you songs or call you by your name “hello mittons” (the first little glover, baby gloves, get it?)…..

Or whether it’s your loved one kneeing beside you as you sleep, whispering how much they love you in your ear so your dreams are sublime and you wake with the warmth of love……

Or it’s Keane Singing “We are the Champions” as their oncore as in the concert in Singapore and you just wanna bounce, singing along with them, loudly, feeling life streaming through every vein in your body…..

Or it your new boss calling you at 9pm one night to say, “….Fleur, you’ve got the job, we’d love to have you come to Singapore”….

Or hearing one of your best mate on the phone telling you she’s coming to see you in Singapore after not having seen each other for 3 years…

Or if you are Karen, enjoying some bubbles on your birthday hearing Roy saying to her, sitting on a beach in the Maldives, “happy birthday gorgeous, will you marry me”….

The sound of a voice can have such an impact or sometimes even change your life forever.

If you give me a microphone you’ll probably never get it back. I have been known to belt out a few tunes in my time, invited or unsolicited. Years ago, working for Gazman in Melbourne at the ripe old age of 21, I sang Whitney Houston’s, “I will always love you” at the Christmas party, standing on a table, after some 3 bottles of wine and god knows how many shots. Ouch, it really was like cats on a hot tin roof. (…and I still haven’t lived that one down!)

Since then I’ve somewhat honed my vocal chords, I’ve song at weddings, been the lead singer of the “Well Hung Jury” and more recently I sang at a Wedding speech for Catherine and Danny’s wedding, as their Maid of honour.
(For people that know me, you can check out the video on my Face Book homepage, it's a video called the "Wedding Singer")


Whilst I’ve been singing allot lately, I’ve been thinking about the other side of having a voice.

There is a beautiful scene in a move called “Human Traffic”, on YouTube, it’s called “Wanker”. The age-old problem of keeping up appearances when you catch the eye of some one you’re about as interested in talking to as you are a plant. But, you end up having one those obligatory small talk social exchanges like, “hey, mate how’s it going…blah blah blah”. When really what you’d really like to say, “go away you twat, you bore the pants of me… ”. (Watch this)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xcIKQRTRLlk

How many times have you done that!

Imagine what we could all have achieved if we told people what we really thought, or if we had a voice and used it all the time? And, I’m not meaning telling that moron to go back to the corner he came from either.

The other side of having voice can mean all sorts of possibilities …. it could be telling your boss, you don’t agree with his decision and offer a new one for a better outcome? Or when you wanted to turn to left, but you’re boyfriend said right, and it took an extra 30 minutes to get to party (and of course you were now late). Or when your friend bought that shocking low cut dress and you didn’t have the heart to tell her she looked like she was going to get paid that night. Or if you had of actually said no to that last drink at 3 am, and the next thing you know you’re married with two kids.

Whilst I’m a big believer of fate, I’m just posing some questions here.

Whilst I’ve always been a fairly direct young lass, sometimes I really haven’t had a voice at all. It’s only been within the last 18 months that have I learnt to speak out and speak up. (That’s what some hard earn dollars on therapy will do for you.)

I’m not talking about going on a date with a hot guy and going from “I’ll have a salad please” to, righto, "I’ll start with the escargots, followed by the 400g eye fillet streak and let's wash that down with a bottle of Château Neuf de Pap, followed by a crème brulee and a bottle of Noble one… " :-)

I mean speaking up and it having meaning, truth, or real honesty for how you are feeling at the right time.

Karl Jung, the famous Psychologist says we learn how to communicate with in our family of origin. In mine we were taught to keep up appearances like Rode Scholars. We didn’t talk about what was really going on, we just “dealt with it and moved on”. But we never really dealt with anything.

I had a conversation with my friend Michelle today about why relationships break down, marriages fail, or people have affairs and then it all goes pair shaped. We agreed it all boiled down to communication. More importantly, having the ability to openly share or express to your partner what you really needed, what your preferences are, or what you yearn to touch and feel with out judgement. Being accepted for what and who you really are.

The other side to this is having the ability to trust yourself to let go of the fear of letting go and stop listening to the voices in your head.

How many couples do you know that are really lonely people in their relationships because they can’t communicate? How many people do you know that have had affairs because they can’t talk to their partner about their needs, what excites them or discuss why has the their sex life gone stale…...so it’s easier to look outside the nest for that person that they can have that fantasy with, that freedom that they don’t allow themselves to have with in their married.

The other side of the inability to communicate is sometimes easier to share dialogue to with another party like this… rather than answer the questions of what’s really happening in your life…

“…my wife/husband doesn’t get me like you do”

“…oh wow, I can really be myself with you”

“ … I feel like I can do anything with you…”

“… you’ve awoken me…. You’ve given me back my spirit…”

“…I want to spend a day inside your head, spend the day there…there is no logic why this is happening… ”

As U2 sang, I’ve had enough of romantic love, I’d give it all up for a miracle drug
….is that what we’re looking for when we can find the words to say it? Have a listen to the words….

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7UufsC8ORQQ

The other side of this need to feel something else than what we have in front of us, is that unless we have are brave enough to push those words out of mouths, when we need more, our partners are going to need to become clairvoyant to really understand what is going on.

Maybe they can watch, I will say as woman we instinctively know when something when something is up (whether we choose to act is another matter). Men too. We are not blind. We choose not see.

There are also extreme cases of blindness. Like my old boss from T-Mobile for example; Joanne came home one day to find her husband dressed up in woman’s clothing in full make up, a wig an some stunning Jimmy Choo’s. A ritual he had apparently done almost daily for 2 years of their relationship, when she would go out for her daily bike ride. I asked her, come on, did you have no idea. She said she wondered about his feminine side, but she wasn’t going to give away more than that. They divorced, she kept the Jimmy Choo’s.

I feel madly in love with “Bob” walking Camino de Santiago in Spain, I met him one random day walking into a bar in Pamplona. I’ve nearly been married twice and I can tell you I loved this man more than had ever experience with the two I did a runaway bride on. We were holidaying in Barcelona working out the arrangements for our love nest in Pamplona; he was on route to Ireland to see family, and I heading to London to pack up - viva Espanola!

On the last night I was leaving little Fleury love notes in his suitcase to be found when he unpacked in Dublin. Looking for the right hidey-holes for my notes, I came across a stash of paper that stole my voice, rather left me gasping for air for nearly an hour afterwards. On the other side of that paper was invitation. He was to be married in 2 months. He was on his way home to Ireland to hand them out to his family. Bob didn't have a voice, but the wedding invitations were deafening.

I went to Spain to find myself; but I can tell you now, I found out a lot more than I ever bargained for.

The other side of that suitcase discovery; was a passage to new beginnings. There is always a silver lining. Two years and two new Continents; as one door closes, another door opens. With out that suitcase, I would not have enjoyed such a wonderful reunion with my family, playing the role of Aunty Flowers, getting to know my family again after 8 years of being away, reconnecting with my dear old mates who made my home-coming like I’d never left. Sharing such special times, that you should never miss out on or who of if not for that suitcase.

I’d come home to for a reason. In a studio in down town Prahran Melbourne, I found a teacher Judith, to help me learn how to use my voice properly..

As I said we learn the “how to” communicate in our family of origin; and as I was one of those people that couldn’t communicate what I needed from my partner, we did some work to break where my patterns were formed and letting me down. So we worked on how I communicated with role models in my life, my father and my brothers.

To be heard doesn’t mean to be validated. It’s more powerful simply to deliver rather than hold it back because you are too concerned if you say what you really feel you’ve loose that person, you’ll be rejected or they wont like you any more. Sounds basic stuff, but I can assure you’ve all suffered from this paralysis in some for or other which has stopped us from using our voice to say what we really feel.

My Father was very ill late last year, seven back operations and a hip replacement he was his back for eight weeks in hospital with complications making us all nervous. Allow me to paint a picture for you here; Scotty is less than healthy man. Over weight, loves a drink (or ten), had suffered a heart attack and had major open heart surgery for a quadruple by-pass, 2 knee replacements, and for the year leading up to his hospital stint, with out warning, he would loosing all feeling in his legs and would just collapse in the street, in house, and often knocking himself out on the pavement. But to his credit, with no more golf, no more fishing, no more freedom, he was stoic, and on every phone call to me maintainted
“I’m alright Little One, I’m going to be alright”.

Yeah, he’s a good Aussie battler, but he’s not Jesus.

I was really affected by is illness, visibly moved from this all this so much so, I was getting a little wobbly at work. The other side to this messiness at work, was a very human Country Manager Paul, who took me aside and in a very soft, friendly voice, said “go home Fleur, go be with you family” That was a voice I needed to hear.

I went to see my Dad that day in the hospital. He was thrilled to see me, “G’day little one, aren’t you a darling to come and see your old dad. I tell you there is nurse in here that reminds me of you…. What’s it like out side, looks sunny”

In my family we call my Dad, “Rob Gel” (a famous Melbourne Weather Man) because he always wants to talk about the weather. “G’day Little One, it’s fucking hot here, I tell you what, we need some rain, that weir is about 6% these days”

If you’ve ever watched “Home and Away” my father is Alf Stewart. Such a good old Aussie clique, but true.

Maybe it was the thought of loosing him, or that his mortality became real to me. But suddenly there was a burning desire to unearth years of suppressed anger for how I felt he’d treated me over the years. I realised all of this upset I was carrying around was not just fear of loosing my father, but fear of never having a voice and being choked by all of these buried emotions I’d carried around for years.

I’d spent some time with a Judith discussing this at length. It's not an unreasonable title calling her my voice coach. Yes in reality she’s a councillor and cost me $80 a week for 2 years, but it taught me be brave enough to step up and sing in tune.

For six hours, I sat there and told my father what my experience was like as his daughter. I didn’t hear or get all the answers I wanted to hear, and I’m sure I saw him go for the “nurse emergency button” a few times – but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t about validation, or hearing some fantasy answer about why my daddy didn’t do all that “he should have in the story books”. It was simply about me expressing, releasing what I had wanted to say for years, but didn’t have the courage. It was all about for me. Does that make sense?

It was exhausting I can tell you that much, and I was honestly worried that we might get a flat line from Scotty at some point through my surge of emotion – but actually, we both survived and something really amazing happened.

God bless him, after six long hours of painful discussion, his closing words to me were these:

“Fleur, my darling, if I don’t know how you feel, how can I do anything about it. Please promise me to always tell me how you are feeling and I promise I’ll talk to you about and we’ll work it out together, but if I don’t know, I can’t help you….”

I walked out of that hospital a different woman, and my father a wiser man. It wasn’t so scary after all, and I didn’t feel like the “Little One” anymore. It allowed space for a shift to occur, a powerful transformation actually had happened. (As I’m writing this I can feel such warmth in my chest. A little water eyed, but I’m feeling real joy).

I’ll never forget this, the first song that came on my ipod as watch out of that hospital was “Open your eyes” by Snow Patrol.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H1XUbJEPShE&feature=fvst

My Dad and I don’t talk about the weather anymore; our relationship has taken on a whole new form. We now discuss anything and every thing. Honestly and raw and when he can’t cope with the content, he’s ok with it and so am I. But what has been the real gift to the other side of this is, is that my relationships with men have also transformed. Fundamentally.

Like with any new toy, you should read the instructions and learn how to use it responsibly. I’ll have to admit that at times, especially here in Singapore I had struggled with setting the equaliser on this new sound system I’ve got on board. (It’s not as easy as a Bose, let me tell you).

The other side of my entry in Singapore Idol is that some times people might not want to hear my tunes, or rather how I really feel about them. Especially when I have “5 martinis” playing on the decks, socialising with some-one that in my experience has been a condescending sarcastic prick. You know what, I nearly got kicked out of Idol for that performance, so I’ve adjusted the play list and learnt when to play the tracks the locals like to hear. And hey, when my voice really wants to call out… I’ll just turn the volume down.

As for singing with men, I’m still singing “Fever” - and that will always be my “call sign” and song for many occasion. However, I have a massive love of Miriam Makeba’s voice and her recording of the “Click Song”. This voice is a trigger of happiness for me, she’s got energy and passion the is infectious and you can't help but want to clap and learn how to click like she does!

Like I always say, every day is a school day.

Play this loud and have a click!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OHxkiXALQjU


That’ll do pig, that’ll do.

Fleur

TBS