the other night a coffee shop i often frequent during the day kept its doors unlocked into the dusk of the evening... with the lights perfectly dimmed, the soft hum of a saxophone, clarinet and sometimes flute echoed from an elder man providing live melodies... there wasn't an empty seat in the entire room... and each and every chair was turned to face a solitary microphone erected in a corner...
we'd been brought together to share in the strength of words... the strength they have to make us laugh, cry, think or dream... some came with intentions to share, while others simply geared to listen...
i'd spoken to my mother days prior to the event and she'd reacted ecstatically to the idea that i share my "tale of an irish beauty" in honour of the passing of my grandmother a few months ago... i sauntered up to the mic feeling confident with not only the piece, but with my ability to recite it to the overflowing crowd...
as i introduced the context of the words i felt my voice begin to crack... i jokingly gave the disclaimer that the audience bare with me, as i'd never read the piece aloud... as i began, the words tumbled from the page to my mouth and into the air with a slight sense of apprehension... as the emotions grew inside of me though i was taken by the moment and seemingly ignored the stare of both familiar and unfamiliar faces as i broke down... my legs were shaking feverishly, tears flooded my eyes and streamed down my cheeks... i paused to help regain whatever composure i could muster...
as the final word came out of my mouth, i promptly followed it with a humble "thank you" and took my seat again... applause filled the room and people glanced over at me with smiles... when a break was taken from the performances, a complete stranger came up to me to tell me of a friend she'd lost -- she said she felt connected to my piece...
i wasn't searching for compassion... in fact, i'd convinced myself that reading it would be as simple as rhyming off an excerpt from a script... i'd never felt so vulnerable, yet so energized by a situation and so embraced in a room of such receptive souls...
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the saying may go that "actions speak louder than words," but in my opinion words actually shout decibels above any move one could make... so expressive, interpretive and intense... all you need to find is a method to your madness to avoid rambling nonsense...
