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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2074581-Voices-of-Reason
by lish
Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #2074581
A short story concerning a day for the voices in Her's head.
Foreword


“ The Voice of Reason is in us all… and everyone can recognize it because it makes sense and everyone benefits from it equally.

~ Bill Hicks

The Beginning


We begin where all ideas form… in the mind. Welcome, to the Mind of Her.

The Voices Emerge


It was pretty dark, then again it usually was dark when one was stuffed into a human mind along with six other voices. At least the voices had the single lightbulb fighting valiantly against the dark. But given that the mind they were inhabiting didn’t have many ideas at the time, the bulb’s only real function was to sway back and forth on its thin metal wire to the sounds of the voices many “discussions”.

“You are always so unemotional! Really Fred, when will you finally start to feel?” said Hannah.

“I do feel. I simply choose to exist in the real world instead of your fantasy land of feelings,” Fred replied.

“Ok you two. Enough! We have work to do. Her isn’t in good spirits today. It may be time for some inspiration. Remember that whatever we do, we have to keep Her in that chair and writing!” This was Dirk the voice on Her’s voice team that sought to protect (mostly over-protect) Her’s interests at all costs.

Her’s mind was full of voices. Hannah, Fred, and Dirk tended to clash quite a bit, mostly due to Hannah’s love of love, Fred’s love (or lack thereof?) of rationality, and Dirk’s love of… well, keeping Her safe. But, they were certainly not the only voices working on Her’s behalf.

“Yes, indeed we do. Thank you, for bringing us back into focus, Dirk,” agreed Liam leaning in, deep in thought. As the managing voice in Her’s mind, his job was not easy; especially considering Her had so many conflicting voices on her team, all cramped together in this tiny space chatting over each other all day and all night long. And, as if to prove this latest thought of his correct, as he sat back to contemplate further how to get Her back on track, another voice pulled at Liam’s attention.

“Petile?” Liam asked, “Can you please stop being so loud? We are losing Her.” Petile, the ever moving, overly anxious voice that constantly infiltrated Her’s mind with anxiety and fear had been yelling about what horrible things might happen to them if Her actually did write, and then wrote the wrong thing… again. Upon hearing Liam’s request for silence, Petile crossed her arms dramatically and “hmph’d” her way into her seat.

Despite their conflicts, the voices had gotten Her to write before. But, since the last time, when her work was critiqued online as being ‘poor’, Her hadn’t written another word. And, Her not writing was bad… very bad. Thus, Liam was desperate for the voice team to rally and help Her succeed in her writing cause. If only the team could come together and… wait a minute, Liam halted his thinking. What now?

This time it was Patrick, the voice who was tied into the higher realms, that interrupted. “Knowledge is power. Power is love. Love is all.”

Wow, thought Liam, he really IS from another planet. With all this noise, it’s a wonder Her has ever sat down to write. At least, as opposed to Petile, Patrick could provide the team with great insights from the other realms that they could then feed to Her and her writing. Problem was, it certainly wasn’t easy to understand and translate his “celestial messages”. Man did someone need to work with him on his communication skills.

As he paced around considering next steps, Liam bumped straight into Zaz, who was busy whipping and nay-naying all across the small, cramped, dimly light space they called home.

“Hey Zaz, do you mind maybe turning the music down and helping us to get Her to write? You know, maybe do your job?” Liam asked. But Zaz, the voice associated with all things fun and celebration, just kept right on dancing.

I know I didn’t lead perfect past lives, but how in the universe did I end up managing this cast of characters? Liam mused.

In answer to Liam’s desperation, the single lightbulb above them flickered. All the voices gasped. Was this it? Was Her actually going to start writing again?

We Meet Her


Sitting down at her desk, Her’s hand shook as she reached out to open her laptop. She couldn’t believe she was going to try writing again. After the last time, she really believed she should give it all up and find something new to devote her life’s interests to. Maybe she should get a pet or a boyfriend or a social life. But, Her knew she couldn’t give it up. There was something about this writing stuff that kept pulling Her back in. And so, here she was again about to jump into the belly of the beast.

Here she was, placing her hands on her keyboard. And, right on cue, here were all of Her’s fears and hesitations as well. I don’t know why I ever thought I could do this, Her thought. Clearly I’m not meant to be writing anything. I don’t have any writing talent or training. In fact, I don’t even have any good ideas to write about. Look at what happened to me last time. What an embarrassment!

The last time Her had sat down to write, she did manage to get a story down. More, she thought she had written something of value, of real merit. But, when she posted the short story to an online group for feedback, they had torn it apart. Deeply abashed, Her found it hard to even consider putting words down in structured format again.

But, despite her embarrassment at the incident, writing was what she was meant to do she just knew it. Yes, there were other people that said that about themselves, but she KNEW she was meant to do it. Ugh, it was just so hard to get started. Between the noises in her mind always distracting her, and the deep embarrassment she still harbored, she couldn’t help but go back to the thought that maybe she WASN’T meant to write after all. Besides, there were so many things she could be doing like cleaning her apartment or organizing her playlists or learning that new dance she’d been hearing about. Perhaps this reintroduction to my life’s calling could wait until tomorrow. Surely there would be time then.

With this, Her began to get up from her chair.

Getting Her Back in the Chair


“We have a red alert everyone!” shouted Dirk. “Her is getting up from the chair. I repeat, Her is getting up from the chair!”

Liam groaned. They had tried so very hard to get Her writing again after what was known as “the incident”, and now they were so very close! How could they get Her to sit back down again?

Fred broke in, “I have an idea! Let’s tell Her all about how bad she’ll feel for not writing. Let’s keep it real with Her on this one. That way, she can see the aftermath of her procrastination and learn to persevere through hard times and thoughts.”

“For once,” said Hannah, “you’ve come up with a great idea.” Fred responded with a harsh glare.

“It’s good to see you both agreeing! I also agree. Let’s put it into action,” added Liam.

The voices then came together to show Her a vision of Her’s world without writing. After which, they watched as Her eased back into her chair. At this, the voices proceeded to congratulate each other on a job well done. “All in a day’s work! Great job team!” Liam exclaimed.

It was moments like these that made him love being a voice… even with all the noise and the cramped working and living environment.

Being a Voice


“I’m not sure we’ll be able to keep her in this chair,” remarked Petile.

“Quite frankly Petile, we HAVE to keep Her in that chair. Think of what will become of Her if we don’t!” ranted Dirk.

“He’s right Petile. That’s what we’re here for. If she gets up again, we’ll help her get back into place. That is what being a voice is all about,” answered Liam.

Being a voice was all about inspiring and supporting the mind you were assigned. It meant one was part of a team. Most souls that have human bodies had a voice team assigned to them. This team would be anywhere from three to ten different voices. It was the voice team’s job to ensure their soul lived to their highest potential. Each soul in the universe was trying to live to its highest potential because each soul was trying to evolve to a place of pure energy and love.

Living one’s highest potential looked something like a motivational speaker who travels about spreading their motivational messages; the actions of which, in turn, fulfilled their life’s dreams. Or, living one’s highest potential might be a mother who devoted her life to the well being of her children, helping them to grow into the best souls they can be, while being completely content doing so. Basically, living one’s highest potential meant doing whatever it is one was destined to do with the lifetime they were experiencing.

For a voice, living your highest potential meant partnering with your team to help the soul you had been assigned to to live their own highest potential. It meant helping that soul to keep the promise they made when they first entered the body they were in.

The hard part about being a voice, at least for some, was that not all voices were at the same point in their own personal growth journeys. Some voices were more introspective and insightful than others. One might be a highly evolved voice, like Patrick. If he could speak to Her directly, Patrick’s messages would propel Her leaps and bounds beyond her years. This might seem like a great thing, but just as voices were at different developmental levels, so too were souls in human bodies. The direct information from Patrick about the workings of the universe would propel Her too far ahead, causing Her to miss key growth lessons.

On the other hand, one might be a less evolved voice, like Petile. Petile was so full of fear and anxiety that if she spoke to Her directly, she would paralyze Her with a fear so great, Her might never even leave her house! Due to where Her was on her growth path, she needed both voices to guide her along her journey. Then, she could use her free will to determine which message would be best to help her on her next step.

Lastly, you had the Head Voice In Charge (HVIC). And, for Her, that was Liam. This voice was tasked with keeping the balance by allowing all the voices to be heard, in order for the soul listening to have the best messages to choose from when exercising their free will. Liam knew that being a HVIC was a very advanced role, and having it meant he would soon be on to bigger and better things. However, those better things would only appear if the soul assigned to him, that being Her, lived to a high level of potential. And, with Her not working on writing Her novel, it looked like neither Liam, nor the rest of the voices, would be promoted anytime soon.

Enter Zaz


As Liam contemplated his career, the noise began… again.

“Zaz! Music lower… please!” Liam pleaded.

“What? I mean, come on man? She’s in the chair, isn’t she? She’ll write something. And, besides, we have time, don’t we? Life is infinite isn’t it? We’ve got all the time in the universe to help Her out. In the meantime, shouldn’t we be celebrating? Besides… ain’t nobody who doesn’t love them some reggae music, OK?!”, snipped Zaz.

“You know all your partying and celebrating just distracts Her from writing,” quipped Dirk. “Have you no shame, Zaz?”

“Hey, who is the one to help Her out when she is feeling down? Who do you all come to then? Huh?!” Zaz added. He looked around the quiet room and continued, “That’s what I thought!” Zaz turned the music up another notch.

It is nice to be thinking about vacationing in the Caribbean, it being a cold winter day outside and all, Her thought. Perhaps I should look up travel deals instead of writing. It counts as writing if I’m sitting at my computer using the keyboard, doesn’t it?

“Zaz! Did you hear what Her just thought?” shouted Liam. “You are most definitely hurting, not helping, the cause. I suggest you turn the music down now, or we implement Operation Purple and Gold.” Liam set his gaze on Zaz.

Zaz, without word, turned the volume down.

Her Had Quiet


But then again, maybe I should just write. I mean, I enjoy writing, and I am sitting at the computer. May I should just go for it.

And with this, Her picked up her hands, placed them on the keyboard, and then… nothing. There she sat, looking at her laptop with nothing to write about… nothing at all.

Please help me to be of use in this world! she begged something; she didn’t know what.

Her closed her eyes and waited.

Operation Inspiration


“Ok team we are a go! She should be safe to write!” screeched Dirk. “Who’s got something!?”

“Her can write about love. People love stories about love,” said Hannah.

“Love is good, Hannah. But, that’s a broad topic. Maybe we can narrow it down? Or does anyone have anything else?” Liam asked.

“Hmmmm perhaps she can write about the fear of loving?” added Petile.

“How unusual for your to bring that up,” said Zaz with a significant eye roll as he reached over to turn up the music again.

“Now Zaz, that isn’t helpful,” rushed in Liam. “Please, let’s focus. She’s in the chair! Who else has an idea? We need to keep Her…. Uh, Oh … what is that!?”

Her always liked to put music on when she attempted to write. Today’s selection included some Scottish instrumental music. A song she thought she recognized began to play. She tried to focus on the screen, on thinking of an idea, on something besides the reverie, but she couldn’t. It was official, Her had lost focus. And then, Her was no longer looking at the screen, but instead off into the distance to a far off land she had visited once, perhaps in another life time. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

“Bagpipes OFF Zaz!” pleaded Liam. “We are losing Her again!”

Begrudgingly, Zaz turned the music bag down, but not without a mumble of “losers” under his breath.

They watched as Her snapped back into focus.

“Thank you. Now where were we? Let’s continue,” said Liam.

“I have received a message,” Patrick announced. The voices waited with the anticipation of not understanding a word of what Patrick would say. He continued, “We should tell her about the Box.”

“You want to do what?!” exclaimed Fred. “Are you crazy?!” Fred’s sentiments were supported by similar murmurs from the rest of the team.

“Ok guys, wait. Let’s just hear him out ok?” asked Liam. His request quieted the group. “Please continue, Patrick.”

“If we tell her about the Box, then all will be revealed. She’ll never run out of inspiration again! It is time,” concluded Patrick.

“Well, this is just preposterous!” chimed Fred. “We simply cannot tell her about the Box. She’ll never be able to handle it.”

“Well, I happen to think she’ll be alright with it,” Dirk added.

“That will never get Her to write! Can you imagine?! Oh no, she is getting up again!! What do we do?!” Petile exclaimed.

Petile was right, Her was getting up again. They had to act, and act fast, thought Liam.

“We don’t have any other ideas do we?” he asked looking around in hopes someone had something else to offer Her to write about. Seeing no other responses, Liam sighed. “The Box it is. Here goes nothing. Patrick lead the way.”

Patrick proceeded to tell Her all about the Box. Afterwards, Hannah spoke the words they all were thinking, “Do you think it’ll be enough?” she asked to no one in particular.

Inhaling sharply, the voices waited.

Her Steps Into Herself


A mystical Box? Really?! That was the best idea she could come up with?

Her took a moment to sit back and think. This was the message that was ‘sent’ when she was praying desperately for a sign that would either tell her to keep writing or to throw in the towel? This… this was it?

Her sighed. Well, it has to mean something.

After reflecting on the idea for a minute or two, Her came to a conclusion. Perhaps all she needed to do was let go and follow where she was being called. Maybe, that's what it meant to Be? She had always ALWAYS loved writing. Her mind body and soul was constantly calling her to that path. Perhaps she just needed to be on the path and not worry about the feedback and the responses. Perhaps she should just enjoy the act of writing, as she always had before the incident.

Going along with this line of thinking, Her decided on the path of letting go. She placed her hands on the keyboard, said another brief prayer for luck, and began typing…

The Box


We are all existing together in a Box. The Box is infinite and yet defined. It has walls that go on forever. In it are individual souls who are really all One. There are fires to keep them warm, there is music to dance to, there is love to celebrate… there is all of this inside the Box. The question for those inside is: will one choose to try to see it all, or will one choose, instead, simply to Be?

Her was on a roll now! And, her typing continued for a few more hours. During which time, she felt the happiest she had been since the incident. Her was fulfilled… she ‘simply was’.

The Light


“What is that?” cried Petile.

As the team looked up, light rose all around them. The single dangling lightbulb had transformed into a brilliant chandelier that lit their tiny space up brighter then any of them had ever seen.

“What is THAT?” shouted Zaz, pointing.

“That,” asserted Liam, “would be the rest of our home.”

The voices gasped as they looked around at what was now a large and spacious abode. Who knew that by shedding a little light, they would discover themselves not in a single boxed in space, but in a large lovely and comfortable place.

Liam leaned back and sighed. Life as a voice wasn’t so bad afterall.
© Copyright 2016 lish (lishubert at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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