Like a lighthouse guiding the way in the dark, our teacher stood in the center of the room, ready to begin the class.

Red hair, gypsy like – she knew us all by name, her smile easing you just that further back in to your chair. We adored her.

Five minutes in and a tarot deck was whipped out. Not your usual toolbox for a business-writing workshop. 

T

aroetry

I believe she called it. A game of her creation, a blend of tarot and poetry. The deck was shuffled, our fates revealed:

3 of air.

Insights emerge as I document my thoughts.

Our five minutes began the moment “thoughts” left her lips. I was sure I’d be looking at a blank page as the three hundred seconds sped by, but strangely, these words rolled out beneath my right hand:

Thoughts flow through the air.

Oh, how long it has been my old friend

For years in diaries, kept, you were there.

But I am back, alas – I have come home.

When time was called, we were encouraged to share.

I thought this was just a cute way to boost our self esteem and our confidence in our writing (which it did).

The purpose ran much deeper.

Everyone had their own, unique words.

Everyone had their own twist on the same stimulus.

Everyone had something to contribute to the conversation.

Ever doubted that you had something to add or give to the world?

Ever been discouraged that there are too many people doing what you want to do?

Think again.

You have a voice. The world wants to hear it.