The Conversation That Got Quiet

Earlier this week, I had the privilege of facilitating an ANVAM workshop at the Somerville Mechanics Institute Hall, part of their Making Space series. I wasn't sure what to expect walking in. Jo had been purposefully scarce with details on who'd be attending. The challenge: build a workshop for an unknown audience.

12 veterans walked into that hall on Monday, full of curiosity and courage, ready to face the unknown. They had no idea what to expect either.

We sang.

I'm not a trained singer, nor a pianist, but I am a musician. I had no idea if anyone in the room had a musical background, or any interest in exploring music through the body's own instrument. We were all facing a new challenge, together.

By the end of the session, we'd learnt a song, explored harmonies, pushed our vocal ranges, and worked as a team to piece it all together. The veterans I met on Monday were courageous.

Driving home, the poetry of Steve Cotterill came to mind. With his permission I’d like to share a short snippet of his poem coeur-rage from his book, as i am:

courage

you offer two paths, a tough choice

one easy. one hard.

one i feel safe on. one i am scared to step on.

one that feels safe and warm like the welcome embrace of a trauma-bond

one that inflicts the bitter-cold wind that bites our skin with a whispered invitation

to welcome our shadow home

Monday was a step on the path I've been scared to step on — the path that leads to life after Service.

The conversation started a couple of years ago, inside and out, with my family and with myself. But as it developed, I started asking why. Why does this conversation only start now, not from the beginning of Service? Why aren't we talking about that path the moment someone signs on the line, and all the way through to when the time comes to step back into the civilian world?

It's the conversation that keeps reminding you: you are you, you are human, you are capable, and you have worth.

For me, that worth is creativity. For a moment, I thought I'd lost it because someone told me it had to be "this way." Monday gave me clarity and ANVAM is a voice that lets creativity in the Australian veteran community prosper and have space.

I'm still serving. This isn't me announcing an ending. It's me saying that courage, creativity, community and connection are essential to this conversation. My own voice went quiet, because no one was having the conversation with me. No one was talking about the inevitable end of Service.

I'd like to change that conversation.