“Embarking on a Journey”. Those words work so well at being cryptic in social media. All they really mean is I am stating to do something that will take me somewhere. It’s up to me… Or your imagination to fill in the blanks. I could be travelling; going exotic places, going mundane places. Going to the grocery store… I could be embarking on a spiritual journey, planning on finding myself, the meaning of life or whether or not the spaghetti monster really DOES exist… I could mean an emotional one, where I try to grow & move past this stage of my life… Or a completely metaphorical one, that’s encoded in such a way to maintain my own privacy while giving me a false sense of sharing and getting the weight of it off my chest.
I’ll give you a little hint: I’m a rather private person, but I’m also very talkative. But I’ll come clean. The metaphorical Journey I’m embarking on is toward a diagnosis for some rather private health problems I’ve been struggling with over the past (almost) two years, and whatever treatments (Freudian slip, wrote that as THREATments first) may come after that. I saw some people I care about melt down after losing someone they cared about. Shocked me out of my deer-in-headlights response into action. It may come to something small. It may be something much larger than I know how to deal with… But all being said… I’m going to do my best to prevent anybody’s heart being broken over my body breaking. Let’s do this thing.
Here’s a post I hope doesn’t get much traffic.
It bothers me. When I have to lock my door to go to the store for a cup of coffee. That is not me; I’d rather trust and have it floored than let it stop me. I’m at my best when I’m putting breast before the thought beat-what has caught me, my emotion is the press to push out this heart beat which repeats With the same kind of openness. It’s why I’ve always spoken thus. And put it down, and broke the bus and beat the band to boot. I’m no fool. I do what I do for a reason, it’s true but I don’t have to explain shit to you. But I do. It’s called communication, and it’s a small donation to thought and open mind. And I find, the more I provide some background on who I am, the more I know of who I want to be. And who I want to be, it changes. Builds up, falls down, it rearranges, it paints itself in light for strangers, and through their eyes I see how to achieve that prize, the big brass ring of me. And that’s kind of neat. But it has its up and down falls, and when it comes to taking judge-calls, I’m no better than the rest. It tests my strength of virtue, my point of view and purview, and the stupid things we all do, well, they’re my kryptonite. I’m easily embarrassed, and why I’m compelled to share it-well it’s really beyond my sight. But I fight to keep composure, because truth be told you know you’re-only given just one life. That’s right. And if you spend it forever fearful of the people that surround you and the things that they MAY do, well you might as well have spent it in a bubble. And there’s the trouble!! that somehow sensory deprivation presides communication and we’re rationing the space and times we can be touched. And it’s too much! We’re a social group by nature, and I’m not trying to berate or blame you for enclosure, because goodness only knows you’re just one of far too many. But please tell me. How does fear enrich your life?