Wanderer's Day - Singer-in-Silence
Today is the day of the Singer-in-Silence!
I have written about Them before, so this isn't an introduction, so much as a reflection of where They've been in my life lately. I had a "spiritwalk" with Them today, a walking meditation practice I have where I just reach out to one of my gods or other spirits and do my best to have a conversation.
Today's time with the Singer felt like friends who are embarrassed they haven't talked in so long. I still hold Them close in my devotions and prayers; as I talked about in that last post, there's a lot I relate to about Them. But in terms of active conversation, a lot more of my focus lately has been on other sorts of practice.
But this was good timing to get back in touch with the Singer for a few reasons. One, it seems apropos that Their day is shortly after Fading Fire, when the balanced-change of equinox gives way to the long nights of the winter solstice. I see the dynamic seasons of Spring and Fall as the time of the Dancer-Between, and the endurance-test seasons of Summer and Winter as the Singer's time. And Glowtide, the middle of Winter, is when the Singer got Their name.
But just because this is the Singer's season, as They reminded me tonight, doesn't mean They like it. Gods who endure don't always like enduring, and for someone who has trouble with smooth interpersonal interaction, maybe that spotlight isn't so fun. The way They shared it with me is that Summer gives Them energy, and Winter asks Them to give it back. Running after the Sun and singing it back for the new year may be a proud moment, but it takes a lot out of Them.
And that's another way that the Singer and I sync up. I enjoy the winter holidays, but I don't enjoy the time around them, which in my part of the world involves up to sixteen hours of damp darkness starting as early as 4PM. It's a good time to have the Singer here with me, a good time for us to endure together. Misery loves company, if nothing else.
The other reason this seemed well-timed is because of how I've been thinking about how I use my words. I've had more than a few times in the past week where my words have run away from me; I've been too sharp, too strident, too "unfiltered"… things that I know the Singer has experience with too. I've learned, thanks to Them and to therapy, to accept this as a part of myself even as I learn to do better, but what's been on my mind lately is what "doing better" looks like.
Part of the reason that I get loud, or forceful, or rambly, is because I have experience with not being heard, and sometimes it feels like those are the only tools I have. And, indeed, sometimes you just have to yell. Sometimes it's the right thing to do. But the Singer tonight reminded me that being heard takes two people. If the message is delivered in a way that makes someone close off, then it's not actually delivered. This didn't hit me as a call to police one's tone until the meaning itself is lost, but instead to challenge me to think: how do we communicate authentically, in a way that will still keep others listening? "That's why I'm the Singer-in-Silence," I could hear Them explaining, "not the Shouter-in-Silence".
What does that mean for me? What is "Singing", aside from music? What are all the ways we have to share the things we must say, in a way that begs others to hear? I'm not sure yet, I'm still learning, and I'm glad I have the Singer there to do it with.