It’s frequently noted that among people’s most dreaded experiences are visiting the dentist and public speaking.

Almost every week, I attend a small yoga community center where people chant and meditate together.

I often host these gatherings; a pretty straightforward assignment.

I welcome everyone. I introduce different program elements, many of which are CD recordings, and I extend invitations to other programs.

No stress in these tasks.  In preparation, I write down notes, but the words I am speaking are not about me.  Besides, everyone who comes knows the drill.

This past week, my hosting duties included a four minute personal narrative about my relationship with financial support I’ve given to my spiritual life and how my understanding of this has changed over the past twenty years.

I innately understand the importance of speaking up.  Oddly enough, although eager to voice an opinion or observation, quick with a quip or a joke, I often clam up when it comes to revealing personal information or feelings.

What if I get off track and ramble?  What if I fail to make a relevant point?  What’s the benefit of exposing a vulnerability?   What if no one cares what I have to say?

I have often made a bigger deal about sharing things that were important to me than the specific situation warranted.

I’ve scripted out comments for my boss before periodic reviews largely, I think, because I didn’t want to get emotional during the conversation and topics related to my livelihood or associations I might make to how I might be valued touch some very tender places.

I often play conversations in my mind, trying out different exchanges of what might be said, in advance of any actual dialog, a totally unnecessary obsession.  How does this prepare me for what I need to be with honestly in the moment?

I know I am prone to stewing about not feeling understood even though I have been  reluctant to actually tell people what I want.

Often, the thought that what I want to say might be ignored or that people might give me a reaction I’m not looking for feels worse than the experience of a less than enthusiastic response itself.

I hate thinking that I’m making a big deal out of something that isn’t a big deal to who I am speaking to.

I can forget that the reason to speak up is to honor my thoughts and feelings, not to get a certain kind of reaction.  It’s about me…and that’s okay.

There’s an expression, “From your lips to God’s ear.”  It’s generally said to someone you care about as a wish for a happy outcome, that the person you’re extending this wish to will see the realization of the heartfelt desire they dared to utter out loud.

As I gave my remarks to the small gathering this weekend, I thought of this expression in a slightly different light.

I didn’t break down and cry, but I felt my voice quivering a little. I knew that what I was saying was truthful and deeply felt. I imagined everyone heard the rawness and truth in my words…and that was okay.

I imagined that I was speaking to God and that part of myself that needs to hear things out loud sometimes.

What I was saying was not a prayer, but speaking up was affirming my connection with something greater than my small self and acknowledging that I was being listened to.

Giving voice to something that’s important to you, even if you’re just talking to people who already care about you, is no small thing.