I am afraid we need to talk

I had an interesting response to my post on fear; people I didn't think ever read my blog admitted that they did -- and then commented on their interpretation of what I wrote.

So I have a new fear -- and that is that those who read my words take them at face value. Which is probably an excellent lesson for me to learn. I have always been loose with words -- I have always bandied them about, used up great sentences of them without putting any thought or reason behind them.

But when you do this vocally, people don't remember, for the most part, what the hell you said! When you log it and set it in ether stone, they become not just words strung together into sentences that come from my mind and are just as quickly forgotten by me as my fingers fly over the keyboard and create more, more, more words. No, they become an entity. A thing that can be misunderstood or way more is read into them than was ever intended.

Have I told the mute story? I know I have, and if I'd actually paid attention back in high school instead of being quite sure that I was smarter than anyone there, I would have heeded the lesson that I molded into something else altogether.

I wrote a story about a mute that I literally whipped out in ten minutes -- a mute that walked about the beach and portrayed a story through touch, sound and smell. The assignment had something or other to do with that and naturally I'd waited until the last minute to complete it. Several days later the papers were handed out with the names removed, and they were critiqued. Mine was heralded as the most amazing and wondrous piece of writing since Steinbeck, Hemingway and God. For crying out loud. I'd never even gone over to check for spelling errors.

But I didn't learn it then and I obviously haven't learned it up until now -- that my words have a force of their own and it might behoove me from time to time to go back through them and see what they are saying and how they might be perceived by others.

But then again, doesn't that kind of suck? Isn't the purpose of something like a blog sort of release you from such etiquette -- as in, don't read it if you don't like it and don't take it personally either!

After the whole middle school brouhaha where I was basically threatened, I backed off for a bit, but again, no lesson learned there! That just pissed me off royally and in truth, I did bite my tongue for months, which I thought was a great example of maturity and pent up disrespect! And it still would thrill me to no end to call out a few of the worst teachers on the planet and really get down and dirty. But alas. I won't. Just because. Just because I don't need that kind of karma in the universe. And really, peace, love, smile, breathe. Let it go. Aaaaaaaaagh, what I wouldn't do for a stand-up, knock down, hell even a little blood letting ....

But you see, I say those things in the moment. I get a bit riled up at the thoughts of those times and I write it as it is happening, but seriously, just because you get why people go postal, columbine and all that, doesn't mean it's an idea you'd emulate. (And if I was speaking this, my tongue would be heavy with dripping sarcasm, which is certainly possible to write, but not as perfectly as the vocal equivalent. Not by a long shot.) I know all of this. I know that when I start writing (or thinking) about the Middle School from Hell I get nuts. I know that when I say things like my life is not perfect, someone reads that as their fault. (Well, at least I know now!) But thoughts are not what is happening in the moment.

Which is why the whole living in the moment thing doesn't really work if you are going to write about moments that have passed! Because then the written word gives that moment far more meaning than it should, because once it is over, it is over. I don't know, I am confusing myself and not even coming close to saying what I mean because I don't know what I mean. But I don't like having to defend my words -- especially ones I said from a place of truth. Where I looked inside and asked myself, what am I afraid of?

I think one thing I have realized is that the discussion of fear leads to anger. Anger that someone doesn't understand that a fear isn't a large cloak that completely covers me. It is a small mosquito that lands on my arm and hopefully I get it before it gets me. But then again, fear can lead to love and acceptance -- of oneself at least. Every day I go out to the garden and the jungle of grass beyond and swallow my fear whole. I tell myself that it is ridiculous to be afraid of snakes. I walked into the greenhouse three times the other day and forced myself to stop thinking of it as a snake pit -- to stop telling myself that I can't breathe in there. To see it as a haven for plants and all things garden.

That is a fear that sits on a plate as true as a big, meaty steak. I can put a fork in it, I can slice through it with a sharp knife ... it is a fear that is that tangible.

Everything else I had to conjure up -- like popcorn kernels waiting to be popped. I would think and POP! out would come a fear. POP! POP! POP! But popcorn is light and airy and easily swallowed.

I could try to change and go through each thing I write (because now I don't go back at all -- no typo checking, no did I offend anyone checking, no did I write something that might be misunderstood checking -- this is raw footage and I prefer it that way.)

What about things I'm not afraid of?

Dying.

Now, now now. Before that gets picked up as a "weird thing to write first" let me just say that I have the most amazing peace and stillness about my life. I truly believe that I will die of old age, in a most peaceful manner. I don't know anyone personally, but I have read about people who were sure they were going to die young, or die in a car accident, or whatever. I have been in several car accidents and one day avoided a doozie, and this feeling came over me, strong and sure, that I would NOT die in a car accident. So, that's cool. Good to know, and let me tell you, it has come in very handy, this surefire knowledge, especially in London and Scotland driving on the wrong side of the road! Even today, while driving to a softball game, the GPS led us seriously astray and told us to do a legal U-turn, which in fact had us driving in the wrong lane, going against traffic. We didn't see any cars, thank heavens, and we didn't even know we were doing it until we saw a truck coming out of another exit with WRONG WAY all over it. But I had the same feeling today, when Peter said "we were lucky." And I thought, yeah, but no. Just not going to go that way!

Anyway, I think I will have to pop my non-fears tomorrow, because it is getting late and I am afraid if I don't go now, I will miss my window of sleep. Fears, fears everywhere!