I am this,
I am that,
Tree Fort Enthusiast,
Story Line Curator,
Spinner of yarns,
Hard to handle,
Difficult to be around…
At some point, the words I’ve been told outweighed by those who didn’t understand or know me, begin to outweight my innately positive vision of self… And because no one else believed in my dreams, I allowed myself to question them also, so my once definitive believe in my self-started resounding empty and weak over the sounding board I had surrounded myself it.
That was the first time I really realized that the environment can do one of two things, it can shape you, or it allows you to shape it. This process happens in a variety of fish bowls, from tabletop to sea bound. If I feel comfortable for an extended period of time, I can feel my creativity beginning to itch and scratch it’s way to the surface, to remind me that there is a big world out there, and I had better be picturing it if I’m not currently experiencing it. Because the world has been around for much longer than me. It knows itself better than I can ever hope to on my own. A true painter sees a full canvas before the brush ever lands a stroke.
At a certain point in that list, there is a conceivable shift in the words I use to define my actions. They don’t even seem like they should be used in the first person descriptive category.
I reflected on that notion, but I didn’t have to think of it the way that I do in order to relay the process via a blog post. Reflected… On… That.. Notion…
Each of these is kind of dry flat words without meanings when left to their own devices, the reflected is in a past tense form the notion suggests an idea but not a clear purpose driven attitude toward it one way or another.
The more I pay attention to my verbal informational relays the more I realize they are all secret messages to myself. They are secret messages to my preferred playmates as well so what I choose to talk about directs where, how far, and how long those interactions will last.
The better I make them feel, the better I feel myself… and the better I feel myself, the better I make them feel.
If I feel poorly that is how I experience the world if the world around me is poor in spirit, I, in turn, feel depravity.
I feel but do I really experience or do I simply gauge the experience of those around me and analyze my life as a comparison to gauge my level of gratitude and achievement?
Do my feelings get in the way of my reactions because I am gauging the reaction to myself from those around me rather than from within?
If so where is the disconnect?
Sometimes when I reflect on these experiences, I realize I am much more capable of happiness when left to my own devices and deciding for myself, so why do I give away that ability freely to other people who only know me in this very moment where I may be experiencing something I am wrestling with in my personal life.
But where is the fun in a game of Clue, when the judgment of guilt or innocents is directed at anyone other than the avatar being used?
I wouldn’t appreciate it if little Suzie that I was playing with looked at me and said I think that You were the murder because you are wearing a slutty dress and everyone knows you can’t be trusted.
I am not paying attention to the fluff, what I see is the ‘murder’ word and the suggestive ‘slutty’ word too, and I see her directing it at me. What I see is her pointing and rather than enjoying the facade of Miss Scarlett’s mysterious and alluring character she is judging me based on the version of truth she is used too.
What I hear is that somewhere along the lines, someone alluring and beautiful injured her ability to trust that character and because I chose that character to represent myself I must also fully identify with it as myself.
A judge doesn’t see the little Birdy sitting across from her wishing to be seen as beautiful by those she is playing the game with. She doesn’t see or hear the desires of wanting others to see the beauty that she knows is exposed on the inside, the beautiful song that it holds.
I hear pieces of myself in that judgment, the ones that were once very unsure themselves, the ones that still like to question me sometimes.
The thousands of misplaced wrappers and blemishes picked up and carried until I could put in a place they can be appreciated. A million dulled out compliments and genuine appreciations scattered throughout their conduits to remind me of the good I see in others because those are also the pieces in me that I wish to extend to those around me. and mostly because I feel as though I am telling myself a compliment through someone else I see a part of myself I enjoy within them and I want them to know that I see it, and I understand it’s preciousness and what they must have gone through to preserve and enhance it.
When I anger someone by something that I do, I reflect on it as much as I can to see what the lesson might be, did I do the thing that upset them on purpose? Am I being a Jerk? Am I being flirtatious, was that my intention? If so why am I willing to deny it now and take on the identity of a liar in order to protect it? What sort of weakness is it hiding?
I hear the potential I hear that I’ve told someone something that ignited a reaction in us both and now I have the joy of experiencing my actions in motion…
Does it play out romantically?
Does it play out tragically?
Is it colorful?
Is it dreary?
Is it dull?
Is it boring?
Does that make me boring or am I simply submitting to the role I was given by another player and accepting that it must be so because they said it was true…
I hear an opportunity to offer a different set of narrative, a different set of adverbs, adjectives and defining words, and maybe they will benefit someone else, but I will always offer the best alternative advising to myself in each encounter I come into contact with.
When I see something I don’t like, I hear myself advising myself against it. It is not my job or place or role to tell the enactor that what they are doing is wrong, it is my personality to step in and offer a friendly hand. When I see someone acting out, I try to look in and see where I identify with it, what made me notice. I hear an opportunity to lead by example and even though sometimes I fall short of my mark I try to talk kindly to myself and others.
It’s okay, you didn’t make a mistake you made a choice that didn’t turn out the way that you hoped. You didn’t make a mistake, you created an opportunity to grow and bask in the accomplishment of overcoming anger, frustration, confusion, guilt, pride, jealousy, and achieving a higher level of peace, confirmation, self-awareness, acceptance, humility, allowance and love…
There is no such thing as a mistake, it is an illusion to help fend off the discomfort of exchanging words with myself.
If I commit to using adjectives that I would want others to use for me or when defining me to others, I must first enact them and present them with my best foot because telling someone I have something that they haven’t seen is as good as telling them unicorns still exist but the billionaires have hidden them away in middle earth along with everything else we’ve only ever caught wind of.
We make up these secrets that we tell ourselves and keep from most others because they are what give us our spark of hope, our idea that maybe someday something different will come along and shed light on it, so I no longer have to sit on my own and face it. or run from it, or hide from it…
Words are not just meant to be used, welded, and thrown around, they are meant to be played with, to express unique perspectives not jeered from one side of things to the other.
Words are meant to fill in a spectrum of our analysis of a current condition, the colors we chose to enhance are the ones that tend to follow us, and when we lack anything but black and white’s we reduce the spectrum to polar opposites and focus in on the difference rather than the brilliance of coming alive and together.
I do my best to use adjectives to describe others in a way I wish to feel and have them feel within. I do my best to seek conversations where I don’t need to discuss others at all, ideas and inner dialogue, those are what make us who we are, because all we are, is the sum of the ideas we once thought operating with those we think about currently.
Taking back my adjectives is the first step to redefining the world that surrounds me. I won’t let it read my story back to me and chose the path leading away, I will seize the opportunities that present themselves to offer a better thought in place of the less than charitable ones I hear from other people. When they say that I am inconsistent, I realize I am consistent with myself and follow my immediate direction and go where life leads. I offer the opportunity to come with, and if it is turned down, , that rejection works both ways. That rejection of a choice is the opportunity to choose another one and I will never lose my direction as long as I am in tune with the adjectives that I tell myself I am.
If I say that I am tired, I can only hope to feel more tired.
If I say that I am in pain, I can expect to feel more pain.
If I say that I am struggling and don’t seek ways of improving that feeling, to be upset at myself or anyone else for the low fruit that I’ve been grabbing at, is as useful as using a knife to eat your soup when you have a perfectly useful spoon right in front of you can either be a real adventure, or it can be a tedious task making the enjoyment of that soup difficult to the point that pursuing its ingestion no longer holds as much joy.
To know that neither is necessary is a handy trick. I can bring my hands to the bowl and the bowl to my lips mouth, and with that knowledge, the warmth and the joy of it can be experienced to their fullest potential. I will Drink it in slowly to my heart’s content, and know that the feeling of it is as abundant as I can imagine it.