Is it possible to be too honest, or is honesty always the best policy?
I believe honesty is always the best policy. Now on to the truth of the matter: WE ALL LIE!
I show you these stairs, this handrail and the closed door as an example. Throughout my life I was in a “Oh, woe is me” mode. I felt that I couldn’t do this or that, because of that or this, or because this happened and not that. I lied to myself. I am realizing this lesson at the mid point of my life. Pointing fingers and shying away from the mistakes I’ve created as I bungled along, thinking I deserved better, therefore I will hurt others like I have been hurt, was my policy for a long time. At the time, I made those mistakes because it was the only thing I knew to do. I thought it was the right thing at that point in time. Yet, as I mentioned in a previous post, I Am Not My Hair, I declare “I am not your expectations and I am not my mistakes”. I look at this tattered, ill- taken care of landing and closed door as a visual of how I use to view my path in life. Walls are an illusion and so is the closed door.
Telling the truth all the time opens you up to being vulnerable. Owning up to your mistakes though is the best thing you can do; for yourself and others you care about. The truth hurts, but honesty is the best policy. Facing the fears of knowing I have messed up and owning my truth has hurt temporarily, but helped me immeasurably. Getting through each day is hard when you are still dealing with the mistakes of your past. I am slowly seeing that all barriers are illusions and my path is relatively clear. Everyday I strive to do my best. Even when I made mistakes I thought I was doing the right thing. It is easy to lie. It is hard to face the truth, even the ones that lie within. At the end of the day, truth wins out every time.
Tell us about the time you rescued someone else (person or animal) from a dangerous situation. What happened? How did you prevail?
Photographers, artists, poets: show us BOLD.
Have I actually ever, EVER rescued someone? I don’t think I have. I am a good listener. I most often keep my comments still until you finish your last spoken word. Most of the time. Unless you have me properly riled. Then the words pour forth in a torrent of painful bullets.
A dangerous situation? I don’t think I have. Not anything I’ve been credited of.
Because I don’t know if I rescued anyone from a dangerous situation I can’t determine if I have anything else to add.
Unexpectedly, you lose your job. (Or a loved one. Or something or someone important to you.) What do you do next?
Photographers, artists, poets: show us LOSS.
The Loss Came Unexpectedly.
Out of my Control.
Childhood Wonder, Gone.
Determined, I Will Not Give Up.
I Will Always Love You.
Lessons from the movie Slumdog Millionaire
Desire – A Haiku
Miles away from you
Flesh responds to memories
Embers dance within
Write about a noise — or even a silence — that won’t go away. (We’ll let you interpret this in different ways…)
Photographers, artists, poets: show us ANXIETY.
In my former life I loved the holiday season. My birthday is during the week of Thanksgiving, so often it is rolled into the festivities and most of all the family was around me. I feel quite blessed that my birthday is celebrated during the holidays. This year, without much forethought, I looked towards the holidays with hope and that child-like wonder I have always had since birth. My mother tells me my birth story every year, and the reason behind my name, Natalie. I decided to make my way into the world a month early, nearly to the day of the original due date of December 25th. These spoken and unspoken words of association; my name, my birth, the time of year, is all about family, love, God and happiness. Needless to say, as an adult, I embraced the holidays with joy in my heart.
This year is different. A total, complete change. Thanksgiving and my birthday with extended family that took me in. My children and my husband’s family that became my family, in another town two hours away. No decorations, no familiar ties to this new town, other than my aunt, uncle and cousin, no tree this year. Please forgive me of my silence. This holiday season has me feeling anxious about future ones. I do not want to sing Christmas carols with you, post any cards or put a smile of love and gratitude on my face. I’d rather sit in my own grief of what has been lost than say Happy Holidays to all. I do promise to be better next year. By that time I would have survived this first year utterly alone with my misery and loss and know that next year I will be better. Next year I will join in the festivities. Next year I will invoke smiles and laughter. Next year I will put up a tree, embrace the memories of the past and buy new ornaments. A fresh start, that is exactly what 2014 will be.
Thank you for giving me the space to say Bah- humbug. I hope my anxiety over this holiday season hasn’t brought you down. At least now you know why I am behaving so poorly.
As a writer:
I am a visual learner. I have to see or experience something in order to write about it. Most of my writing deals with the feelings stirred under the six or so human senses. I like to be able to write a description of how I feel or how I perceive others may feel through adjectives and analogies.
That leads into also being a kinetic learner. I have to take action once I see something being done. Does that mean if I see you jump off the bridge before us, I too will jump? Nope. Nada. On the other hand if I see you decorate something, use five ingredients to make a meal in 20 minutes, yes I will have to try to do the same.
Thirdly, I am an audio learner. I hear things most do not and make references to those sounds that perhaps others just don’t pick up on. I have been living with my aunt and uncle for two months now. His health is declining. He is on the very active side of dying. Subtle changes in everyday activities alert me now, since I spend a lot of time with him, alone in their home. I am in ‘my’ room, he is in his, we both pop out every once in a while for a good portion of the day to see how the other is doing. So most of my interaction with him on a daily basis stems from the noises he makes. I’ve done this for years though, maybe my entire life. Maybe it is tied to my strong sense of intuitive nature.
Finally, I am a life long learner. I can not seem to ever want to stop learning something every single day. I like that life has so many facets, like a diamond surface or a fly’s eye. My morning ritual is to spend an hour or more with several books and a journal, going from Facebook to WordPress to e-mail and back through it again and again until work. I ponder, I write, I LoVe my college classes! Anything and everything that can and does stimulate my mind, changes my perception and allows me to see a number of ways a situation can be observed.
I love feeling alive and using my learning styles allows me to feel the depth and breath of being a soul learning to maneuver in our humanistic society.
BTW, my soul is a *little* sarcastic when observing this humanistic behavior below. How I learn in my hobbit hole of a room here is not how I interact and learn from others socially. I am quite the listener and observer and if I ever do buy a Smartphone it will mostly be used for occasional texts and calls and the sporadic use of a GPS service, but to leave a tangible book unattended for Facebook or a conversation interrupted by a e-mail, for-get-a-bout it! This is something my human will not do in a social environment!
The Big Moment – In 15 Minutes
The Mother of all moments
15 minutes went by
Too many words spoken
Mouths twisted in anger
“Leave ME ALONE!” I shout
“You ARE CRAZY!” You shout back
“Get OUT! I’m done with YOU!”, you add
I take your word for it
15 minutes and 20 years gone
You gave up, thinking life is better
Now our fight is up to the lawyers
We hired to defend our rights
Like a pair of boxing gloves
Fighting for the same thing
Hitting each other like charging bulls
15 minutes, a lifetime ago
A year without you and I still struggle
Triggers, I shadowbox, the emotional and verbal hits I took
Are now like scars that prevent forward movement
15 minutes; the catalyst
I decided I was through with you too