I have never seen the world as it is. I freely admit that.
I don’t ever remember any time of knowing where I did not completely understand that I was different. I have always understood that how I see things and the way I think about them, is NOT how other people do. I had two choices, to forget who I was, or not. Except it is never as simple as that. Choosing to hold on to me came at a bigger cost. It meant I would probably always be on my own at best, and at worst, I would be the one that others directed all their personal angst at. I would make myself a life-long target.
It might have been different if being me was about going quietly on my way but being me is loud and full of laughter and excitement and enthusiasm. It is compassion spilt all over everywhere and tears . . . tons and tons of tears . . . sometimes in sorrow but also in pure joy and love. I love people with loud exclamations. I fight for the people I love and I fight for those that no-one loves. I never sit down and keep my mouth shut. I see everything. And everything means something to me. I scream for people to see the elephant. I draw chalk outlines and colour it in so that everyone has to be able to see it. I call people liars when they refuse to see it.
This is supposed to be the point in my life where I look at the long winding road that has lead me here and consider the successes, the failures, and consider my regrets.
Is it rude to say I don’t have any?
It isn’t that I think I am perfect because I am so far from that I laugh to think I ever allowed myself to live trying to achieve that, and then cried when I fell short. It isn’t that I cannot see or feel the pain, the heartache, the darkness, the problems all around me. I am not living with some rose coloured glasses on pretending the world is all beer and skittles. I recognize that every detail of my life’s journey is shaded many colours both dark and light and I am grateful for the ability I gained to use it all to grow and learn.
I don’t even miss people or places. I love that some people and places touched me on such a level that I only have to close my eyes and I am there again. I can feel them to the point that I give away my present moments to their honour. What a gift to have had those types of experiences. Even the painful ones, that are so sharp they can make me bleed, remind me that I will not repeat the actions that placed me there. They are jewels of a different kind. But I don’t wish that they were here or that I could go back because you can’t go back to anything. Even if some miracle could transport you, how would you recognize anything? You are not that person any more. Continue reading →
Ever wonder about the people you meet who you just enjoy because they say all the right things? You have that deep connection when you talk about things beyond the weather, which celebrity did what, and what your favourite television show is. They know all the buzz words and before long, the two of you are finishing each other’s sentences, and you talk long after everyone else is out of steam.
You have several conversations with these people and you marvel to others how alike you are. It seems magical and you swear you know who they really are. Then, somewhere along the way, as you hang out, things don’t seem quite right. This person knows all the words, but what they talk about knowing and what they actually do, are miles apart. In practice they are often angry, abusing others, manipulating people and worse. They are up and down and all over the place emotionally and seldom happy. They have no real direction and nothing is ever their fault. Continue reading →
It is hard to be tender hearted. Despite the best efforts of my grandparents who raised me, my teachers, all the cruelty of the world and the mean heartedness of some people, I have survived. I stopped fighting it as a young woman when I finally realized that despite the pain, it was also my greatest gift, affording me sight and understanding that not everyone else had.
But compassion is not just a gift, it is a necessity for our lives, and especially for the future of our children. Continue reading →
Sometimes life throws a whole bunch of events at us that require immediate, fight or flight reactions. When the bombs stop falling and the dust settles, I am often dazed and confused . . . and a lot of that comes from the whirlwind of emotional reactions elicited from me. I am often left feeling like a victim of those emotions, disappointed in myself for not having been able to choose a response more in keeping with who I know I am.
What a lot of people do not understand about me is that I ask questions, not because I want to say something bad about other people, but because I really need to understand how things happen. I know we all think differently and I just could not get my head around this one question.
How do people go to church every Sunday and sit there and hear all the lessons and messages of love, forgiveness and be kind to one another and not get it? How can they sit there and hear those messages when they live their lives acting superior to everyone else and being cruel and unfair to other people around them? I mean choose to be a bastard, but then why go to church? Wouldn’t its lessons get in the way of your life? Continue reading →