I am in a slightly more melancholic mood today; finding myself being pulled towards soft voices and dulcet tones and it got me thinking.
The tone of a person’s voice has tremendous power over us.
Sometimes it’s less what people say but more of how they say it. Words spoken from a place of intellect very rarely touches me inside, it only merely brushes off the surface of my psyche. I may be impressed with one’s intelligence but to really move me inside, well, now it’s not so much what you say but it is how you say what you say to me.
Have you ever heard Maya Angelou speak? If you haven’t, I would recommend that you do. Go to YouTube, type her name in and you’ll find out why I have urged you to do so. The minute she utters her first word, that’s it. You are under her spell. You are drawn to her for reasons you will find hard to explain. You yearn to hear her speak. You want her to keep going on and not stop. And when she does stop, you will miss her.
You see her voice has a direct transmission to your heart.
It is a bit like when someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. I think it has something to do with where the words are coming from. If it is merely from the intellect then they leave one cold and dry. But if they come from the heart, they will most certainly touch another’s heart.
“the voice of beauty speaks softly; it creeps only into the most fully awakened souls”
And I think if he and I were taking a stroll in a park on this wonderful crisp winter morning in London I may be tempted to agree with him.
So how do you speak to others and how do you speak to the ones you say you love?
Rumi gently reminds us that:
“there is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen”
So imagine Rumi is sitting with you right now in a lovely room filled with beautiful burnt-orange cushions and dark plush deep-red carpets; you’re sharing a pot of steaming hot masala chai, how well will you listen and what will you hear, not with your ears but with your heart?
I think I may have an inkling to what Rumi is referring to. I would love to ask him myself (hey I’d love to be in a room filled with burnt-orange cushions and plush deep-red carpets!) but for now, I think I will need to be content in finding it out for myself.
Have a softly spoken weekend and may it be gentle, kind and peaceful.
And listen to a voice that speaks without words.