A voice I found

Recently, I have discovered a different aspect to my entire self. It is so suprising and intriguing to feel it unfold within me. My reflection in the mirror tells me I should be fully grown and aware, I should be done with growing and should be at full capacity for new things to learn. Increasingly I find this obtuse. I find the more I think I know, the more there is to know, the more I want to know, the more I Google. So when this new bit of me started creeping out I wasn't quite sure where or how to channel it. For a long time I interpreted it as excess energy, an endorphin high after a great Zumba class. Then after a long time withoiut endorphins as an excuse, it manifested into insomnia. Long hours of restless tossing and turning and excessive cleaning and sorting to try and figure out why sleep would evade me like it does. All through this time I sort out technological devices to distract me, to entertain me to help me endure the insufferable hours of torment that came each night after dear husband fell asleep and all the lil bods were soundly asleep. I sort out mind-numbing games that encouraged one to burn rope, crush candy and guess that song! In my search for the next application that would be installed to make the next night fly by and hopefully get some sleep. I discovered my old blog now had a mobile edition. Reading through some of my posts, giggling and scrunching up my face, I sat back and realised something. All those nights, all those hours of trying to get my brain to switch off, all the times I lay awake staring at the ceiling, every time I was still washing laundry and rearranging furniture at two in the morning, my mind was running at full speed, predicting the future, contemplating the past, hoping for a miracle, planning a vacation, organising everyone's schedules, imagining what may come, being excited by possibility, praying for change, encouraging persistence, striving for success! All those times I thought my mind was a naughty child. All those times I thought my body would die of exhaustion if my brain didn't shut up. Now becomes clear to me, my mind was searching for a voice. Could it be that I can write? Could it be that encouraging my thoughts to squeeze out through my fingertips would quiet the buzz in my head? I push through, convinced I have found the solution, and in so doing I am discovering that I have a voice. I have a voice. I have found that in so doing I can have release, I can breathe. I can sleep. Sleep. I am not sure what my voice wants to say, I am hoping it is something worth hearing. So far it wants to tell children's stories and short folk stories. It's contemplating a biography and is convinced it can write a best-seller. This voice inside is so loud, I am not sure why it took me so long to hear it so clearly. It could be that like a busy parent I was constantly telling it to hold on while I cleaned, hold on while I finished this level, hold while I see what this couch looks like on that wall until eventually it threw a little tantrum and I heard, I hear it so clearly when I sit, it has an opinion on almost everything, it's a smartass most of the time but quite deep and emotional. This voice I've found won't be silenced, and I think I have found a way to let it out. I do hope someone other than myself will enjoy hearing it's tales and opinions, but even if it's just me, I believe that will be enough.