Ian's Innards: Voice

Either it’ll move me
or it’ll move right through me;
fully, completely.

Gordon Downie-The Tragically Hip

A childhood heavy blinking through tedious Sundays in respectable churches I wouldn’t have chosen, delivered me to adulthood in a tepidly religious state. My wife was intent on finding a place for us to attend but my involvement in her quest was certainly not overt; my skepticism being long cemented.
Eventually happening upon our destination it was the fruition of a blueprint crafted over the lifetime of my sightless soul. People innately flock to regions of comfort and it wasn’t long before I slowly settled into the folds of this community chesterfield.
A jolting illumination among the sources of my satisfaction was a voice of inconceivable truth. When the choir assumed the sanctuary reins we were hoisted from our seats to effortlessly ride Robert Strozier’s bold bass line. Though offered in gracious humility this voice was not to be broken as its deepest perfection thundered through our hearts, bursting to an explosion of displaced doubt and sorrow.
Soon aware of his tendency to tread conversation tentatively when the songbook closed, I became intrigued. I realized I too have a personally defining voice that isn’t on perpetual display; it’s honed and sharpened constantly but only slinks from the shadows when I’m confident it won’t betray my trust. This voice certainly doesn’t arrive through singing (painfully evident through an ill conceived and ill fated stint in the Kiwanis Festival in my Elementary days,) but through unadulterated dedication to a talent yet to desert me; running.
Entranced by Robert’s gift I would sometimes imagine him feeling as I do when able to race at full capacity; performance producing internal adulation, awash with cleansing, vibrant wholeness. The joy he knew singing in the choir was inherent to his song; translating his boundless happiness through a profoundly affective medium.
Robert’s recent passing arrived all too soon and found his host of friends celebrating his shining presence in their lives. His voice will never leave me.
-- Ian Forsyth