The Great Commandment

Today, I discovered what a prolific writer I am. Five plastic cartons of my files were unearthed; I found essays, proposals and queries dating back to 1976. To my surprise, these papers were all remarkably well-organized. I was left wondering who was that person who wrote so prolifically? Those were the type-written works. The twenty or more personal journals I have written in longhand were stored together in an antique trunk.
Who was the woman who had so much to say?
I found only about a quarter of what I wrote has been ever been published. I wonder if these years and years of writing were a way to hone my craft as a wordsmith. Maybe my time has come.
This morning I had an auditory hallucination. I was getting out of the tub and -- honestly, a voice rang out like a person was in the room with me --

“Use your gift to give voice to those whose voices aren’t heard.”

Admittedly, I have slept less than three hours for each of the three preceding nights. I have read that both visual and auditory hallucinations are possible as a result of sleep deprivation. But then again, maybe this was it. My great commandment.
In any event, it was this precipitant that prompted my excavation into the wasteland of words housed in those five plastic file boxes. I was looking for a clue. Whose voices aren’ t heard? That question goes unanswered. Creatively, I feel like I am gaining momentum, that I am moving toward some undefined outcome. I am hopeful I will find a meaningful way to share the lessons I have been fortunate enough to glean on my life journey. My voice might matter.