Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Refiltered Interface

There are plenty of sides to each and every story. And there are many voices that are loud and
domineering in its retelling. But no one can tell my story, not even those who have been in it with me. Only I can do that... me... the supposed coward of quietude.

I confess that over the years, starting with puberty, I have had enormous boughts of passive-aggressive behavior right up there with melancholia, restlessness and the occasional weepy display. As a young adult and not always the best at communicating my feelings, I have always been painfully aware of my struggles and wished to "fix" them... only to create a deeper sense
of failure.

With the turning over of a new leaf in my thirties, I have worked very hard on being honest with myself, learning, growing, confessing and breaking free from deeply embedded thought patterns that always made me the victim in terms of self-worth.

With this new journey, this new page, I have refrained, at times, by sheer willpower from behaving in a way that would create lots and lots of ripples. With the use of exercise, creating new goals for myself, meditation, journaling and immersing myself in other types of creative work, I have provided for myself a means to redirect attention so as not to give in to the dark urge to react in way that would, in fact, create a lot of damn ripples. Or perhaps it's my ego
thinking I would create any ripple at all... at any rate... I like placid. Let's keep the waters placid.

Its not a question of whether or not someone does or doesn't deserve it. It's a question of my own integrity. A question of forgiveness... and that's something that I'm still in the process of doing.

While I feel no joy or pleasure in what one may consider to be a "lack of a support system", I do not for one moment feel that it is somehow my responsibility to offer reprieve. It's not about blame or choosing sides. It's not about supporting or not supporting.

See, I believe one's biggest sense of support is found in the person looking back at him/her... in the mirror... that shiny thing that needs to be cleaned on a regular basis. Yes, even EYE have had to learn this. Once this s put into practice, it also puts things into perspective... puts the power ack into the hands of the reflection, and releases one from the opinions of others.

It's precisely the reaction that reveals the fogginess of the mirror.

Here's the thing: I have my integrity. I have honesty. I have nothing to hide, no desire to destroy... okay well maybe that's a little far-fetched. So like I said, I have nothing to hide: not from myself, my family, my friends, my work, my self... so please, refrain from holding me responsible for one's personal experience of discomfort. I have no problem giving freedom. I would kindly ask the same in return.

Logic is not simply a term used to fit one's own way of thinking. Logic brings with it a certain objectivity. It's simple: Thesis + Antithesis = Synthesis. If the Synthesis emerged months ago, born of a mutually-reached decision, then I am certainly clueless as to how Logic uses after-thought and anxiety to change the answer. In spite of the good (or bad) humored picking for having less than ideal common sense, I did learn somethingin college.

I've also the mathematic skills to realize when two parties each pay half towards a common goal. I am an excellent record keeper thank you very much. It's all in writing. Allow me to reassure the troubled mind that halfsies were not accomplished in the very least. To throw the term "responsible" around like a battered woman is not becoming. I moved out of the way, out of your hair, and continued on. Same please?

Luke-warm venting isn't for everyone. Because I tend to think before I speak, there is an element of cool and calm with a little bit of heart. Real human lives are affected by words and actions. There is power in language. I respect that. I respect myself. And I respect a person's ability to make their own decisions. I respect follow through, committement and individual freedom. In all of my luke-warmness, my requisite is this: don't go away mad.

Just go away.