Most of us have gone through a day or two, here or there, where it became difficult to talk. Whether we had a throat infection or wisdom teeth pulled, we simply couldn't give voice to what was in our heads or our hearts. We noticed how much effort it took to connect words with experience and to reach out with them to someone else.
We can lose our voices in other ways. We can dig deep and find too much confusion for words to attach themselves conveniently to who we are or what we want. We can talk to people who cannot listen, a problem that tears at the soul with more ferocity than trees falling in unpeopled forests. We can talk without hearing ourselves.
Thinking about losing your voice will convince you that you know many ways to be silenced, many ways to be locked into your own experience. You don't need to linger in such states or such strategies - you know them well.
Ask yourself instead: where do I go to find my voice when it gets lost?
Ask yourself: how do I know my voice when I hear it?
Ask: If the right listener were here right now, what would I say?