On CBS Sunday morning, Don Imus, coined as the iron man of morning radio, was interviewed because he is retiring after 50 years at the mic. When asked what he would miss, he choked up and said, “I always had it in my head that I was talking to one person. I felt that when I walked in there and sat down and turned the mic on, that I was talking to you. I’m gonna miss that…I hear a new song or a new book, or I remember when John Lennon was shot. So, stuff like that. Tell them that my brother died or…just somebody to talk to…I’m gonna miss that…”
While watching, I thought that is how I feel about writing. He nailed it. When I stopped writing after my sister died, I missed talking to you, my readers. I too imagine I’m writing to one collective person, and my voice seems more applicable when it’s written. I missed talking to you.
Artists must experience similar benefits. Their pens, pencils, brushes, and creations help them talk to us. They visually share their feelings, experiences, and knowledge. If they don’t produce art, they miss us. That explains why I enjoy wandering through art museums; I’m gaining insights into the artist’s voice.
This week we stopped at the one building in Mexican Hat, Utah showing some promise of food. As we walked through the door, the environment spoke to me. I instantly knew something about the owner and what he valued. He used his collections and decor to talk to me. When he spoke, he expanded on what I already assumed; an eclectic John Wayne fan who valued cleanliness.
I also attended an educational summit. The keynote speaker, again addressing one collective audience, and like the previous examples needed us, his audience. We were valuable because without us he had no ears for his message.
Everyone needs to be heard, and we have many different means of achieving the same result. What works for me, Imus, an artist, a speaker, or a business owner might or might not work for you. It is vital for your mental wellness to know your precise voice and find somebody to talk to.
Thank you for being my somebody!
Who is YOUR somebody?
Until the next time: Live while you live.
Jennifer Goble, Ph.D., LPC, is the author of “My Clients…My Teachers,” and the blogger and writer of Rural Women Stories: www.ruralwomenstories.com.
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