We all have differing forms of expression. We may like to sing along with the tunes on the radio, whistle ditties, chatter away to our friends, skip, jump rope, or just quietly muse. A lot of activities, whether writing, singing, painting, photography, are all paths toward expression.

For many years, I had music bubbling up inside. Sometimes it was singing along to the radio, sometimes just whistling little nonsense ditties that came and went, or humming.

But I'd be told to shut up or be quiet (that's too annoying), and the inner wellspring dried up and died. Part of me withered away and died as well.

I got to the point where so many things were bottled up that it all took its toll. I did the blood pressure med thing for a while. At times, I'd try writing or some other outlet, but I didn't feel open enough to share my thoughts, my words, my feelings with the whole world.

And when I did, I normally felt rebuked in some form or fashion, so I'd quit. Enter blogging. I started writing a lot, at first anonymously, although friends and family discovered it soon enough. When those closest to me began to read and explore and analyze my words, then that form of expression withered, too. There were too many 'why's and 'what is that supposed to mean?'

It wasn't supposed to mean anything. It just is, or was.

I picked up the camera, after many years of it laying idle, and started pointing it at things. The feelings I expressed through my shutter did not raise as many questions, and in many ways, this has become the outlet for my inner self that I couldn't find before. Even at that, it became somewhat of a burden at some point. What's the next great shot? Where'd that come from? That's just weird. Too many questions, too many observations and comments. Sometimes, it just is. Accept it.

Too many of my photos are not great. They are mediocre, technically speaking, but when I DO capture the right moment at the right place, then I find a warm, happy spot, whether anyone else appreciates it or not. Sometimes I find those spots in other places and with other tools than my camera. It isn't about the camera. It isn't about perfection.

Of late, I have kept the radio and television turned off more than on. The air conditioner, too. Sometimes, the phone. It's too nice to sit and hear the breeze blowing, the birds singing. Thunder in the distance. The silence and the music of springtime and summertime. There is growth, and peace. Don't ask why. Sometimes, it just is. Accept it.

I am finding in myself, away from the noise of humanity, more of the music of my soul. I find myself making more random comments and word associations. Singing nonsense songs and not being told I can't sing. I enjoy that. I can wear the shirt I like, and I don't usually have to be told it looks dorky. I can breathe. I can sing. I can even bounce like a Tigger if I decide it's the thing to do. It's not about you, or her, or him. It's about Peace. The Peace inside that enables you to BE. To whistle, to sing and dance, to bounce like Tigger.

Embrace it. It's inside of YOU. Find it.