| Jul. 7th, 2009 @ 12:36 pm (no subject) |
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How I Am Feeling and/or Up To:  tired
I can't even remember what I said but his response was along the lines of “That's awful deep, for you.”
Wait, what?
Yeah.
It would seem that I have become superficial in my old age, so adept at protecting others, those I love, strangers, pretend boyfriends, family, whoever from what is true and deep and real and scary inside myself that I surprise others when I actually have an insight or thought more important than when is the next cop show rerun on TV and how much chocolate do I have left in the cupboard.
The first of my lovers to comment on my intensity, I don't think he meant it as a criticism. I think his point was that I had a tendency then to over think, to have rational reasons for things, to want to know why before moving forward. It was my way of working through my need for expectations and moving into a place of no expectation, which had been my goal at that time. I think also, his point was that I needed to act more, experience more and plan less. And he had a point there, plans automatically imply expectations.
So I tried to be more spontaneous and less broody, more open and less thought bound. I tried impetuous on for size and found the same amount of fear and doubt as had always been there.
I found that there were certainly others out there in the world who wanted to always know why before and not how after, but fewer than could really hear what I was trying to figure out for myself. So I learned to shut that up in a little box. I learned to keep that part of myself for myself, and the process of getting there is so twisted that nobody has ever tried to follow, and that seems fine, too. Though it is only in the process of sharing those parts that I discover what it really does mean after all, only in laying it bare to the light of another's sight does it become something that can be explored and examined and accepted or rejected as true or deep or meaningful.
In the end what I most need to share, to examine, to view in the mirror of another's regard, I hide. And I hide it so well that it surprises the very people who might have a chance of showing me what it means, of showing me what parts need trimmed away and what needs encouraged to grow.
It's Tuesday, that means NCIS reruns, and there is very little chocolate left on the shelf. I perhaps want to remedy that. |
