rushing their emotions,
in streams undammed;
sweeping up debris,
in a continuous flow,
One thing about working on the helpline never ceases to amaze, fascinate, intrigue, I’m not sure what the right word should be, but is often finding out the age of the person (usually women) I’m talking to. Why? It often comes as a surprise when they tell me they are over 60, and yet their voice has had me thinking I am talking to someone much younger.
Was it their terminology? Their voice itself? Attitude? I often don`t know and yet I can speak to another and be left thinking they were much older than their years. Often I’m left thinking age is merely a state of mind, or a result of our life experiences that has left us afraid to lead a full life and leave us living a timid, reclusive, safe life that leaves us old beyond our years.
Our voices on the telephone can be a disguise as no one can see us, we can be any age or anyone we want to be. I answer the helpline in the safe knowledge that they can`t see my disability, my wheelchair, and for those few moments I am their equal, their mentor, their safe place for a little while.