Show and Tell

Blogs are not only pictures. They are also not really schools of thought. More like Show-and-Tells of thought. So what are mine?

There are not many people in the world brave or honest enough to own up to their thoughts. We hope that we may always keep them to ourselves; that no one may know the negative or self-destructive language we employ in the confines of our own brain. We even hide the many positives, the moments of self love that burst upon our conciousness, because in many cases we have been conditioned that it's not appropriate or acceptable to "toot one's own horn."

I can imagine that anyone reading this is wondering which of these catagories my thoughts today fall into. Am I basking in the wonderfulness that is mine? Am I amazed at how simplistic and lovely my ability to think is? Am I marveling at the beauty of my very attractive face, particularly my perfectly shaped mouth? Am I giggeling inside at the antics of my adorable, almost entirely naked children as they run, crawl and otherwise arrage themselves about the apartment? Am I thinking about how great it feels to be on stage again? Am I considering character analysis, hoping to flesh out and portray an entirely 3-Demensional Yorkshire maid? Am I filled with ideas and sentances for a novel, having them pour from my sharp mind into a freeflowing, intellect ehancing story? Am I remembering my many "Life Moments" where I felt so in tune with myself and my surroundings that I could literally feel everything click?

Or am I instead wallowing in my lack of functioning willpower? Am I looking into my near future, feeling hopeless with the one looming "problem" that I seem unable to change? Do I spend my time (a currency, if you will) moping about my physical limitations that keep me from hikes, romantic roles opposite my husband or merely jumping rope? Am I festering in my conflicting need for help and the fear that I am too needy? Am I wondering if my insecurities are somehow building a wall between my husband and I that he will be unable to breech? Am I concerned about being a good wife, while not crossing the line into "crazy affection spouting wife?" Do I fear that I am a failure as a cousin, sister, sister-in-law, daughter or church member?

Becausethis is a blog, the examples are evened to create for you, the reader, a mystery of sorts. Is she positive, or is she negative? Is she trapped or is she free? Is she singing to her children in joy and happiness or ready to tear her hair out in young-mother desperation?

Well, one side could not exist without the other, right? "Opposition in all things" and all that rot. "It's this day, not me that's bound to go away." Well, right now, the day is not the problem. I am. My own self-sabotaging thoughts and habits. My hackles (figurative, of course) rise when I realize how much 'victim speech' I'm using in any given converstaion.

I scrub my language. I work hard at taking emotional and physical responsibility for my life. I created it, right? I am an all powerful creator? I hit the tuning fork and by so doing recieve only that note back to me? My hands are on the proverbial steering wheel? Perhaps some days it is easier to be helpless. To think that "it" is out of my control and therefore I am entitled to curl up in a ball and wait for "it" to be "fixed" by someone else.

See the drama triangle in this thinking? Yeah. I was comfortable in the drama triangle for so long, that sometimes it still feels like home. I learned how to accept responsibility. Then . . . what? I get really empowered and happy until I seem to have no effect on this one thing. Then, as Yeats said in his poem, The Second Coming, "Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold."

Okay, you caught me. No real mystery, I guess. This morning I am wrapped in my familiar blanket of self analysis, which consistantly finds me wanting. And do you know what always tips the scales? That one thing. The "IT" I feel I have no power or control over. "It" tarnishes everything it touches, and sadly, "IT" touches everything. Deep down I am smart enough to realize that by capitalizing "IT" and quoting "IT" as though it were a something separate from me, I give it mental and emotional power. I also withdraw from the responsibility. I just don't know what else to do. I just don't.

I'm not asking for a solution. I needed to express my feelings before they overtook me and I was unable to communicate with other humans like a calm and rational, sometimes funny, woman. But then I can't help but wonder if this is like using my blog for an emotional dump. Is that my right? Perhaps i should warn readers so they wouldn't have to endure my emotional rantings if they chose not to. I normally end happily. I try hard to, so that it will be a worthwhile entry to read.

This morning, I got nothing. I have no solution that I like enough to own.

"I have heard the key

Turn in the door once and turn once only

We think of the key, each in his prison

Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison."

T.S. Elliot, The Wasteland

Well, there. There are my thoughts. Does that make me brave? Or honest? Does it mean something else entirely. Or worse, does it mean nothing at all?