You’re a mute until the world hears you speak. Until then your voice is an invisible entity owned by no one, just another a conduit through which a puppet master speaks. Your voice in the world can be owned by a raving lunatic, or by a poor woodcarver named Mister Geppetto. Or it can be your own.
Aside from time, your voice is the biggest asset you hold. Without it you’re just a puppet in someone else’s play, existing but not living. But what would happen if you cut the strings and left the stage? When you’re suddenly aware of the realities of the world you’ve been living in, possibilities suddenly stare you in the face, begging to be chased.
There is a critical relationship between a puppet master and his puppets, between reality and those that ignore it. You can play the part of the puppet master but unless you’re genuine and real, you’ll be just another puppet and no Pinocchio.
The Pinocchio’s of the world have the freedom to fail. They can be turned into an ass in public, get swallowed up whole by a whale, disappoint their family, lie, and contribute nothing to the world. Or, they could be like the prodigal son, and learn to live, and find their voice.
The woodcarver staring at an unformed block of wood has done more than the one only dreaming of the magic they will create. Go ahead, cut the strings. Live, fail, speak.