It’s been a while since I looked back in time on my phone. Deleted over 200 images and smiled so much along the way. I chuckled some but cringed none. As I’ve always said, we are our patterns and that we includes me. Some I am more aware of, so now I make different choices. Others I recognized for the first time as I looked back.
I saw poetry I forgot that I wrote, probably because I haven’t thought of the people I wrote them for in quite a while. Proof that time in the sun fades many things including unnecessary memories. I have spent a lot of time in the sun. I only ever write for people I love or believe in. For me writing, texts to novels, are acts of love. They are pieces of me. I kept the writing and deleted the people.
Most interesting was how many pictures were of people that ended up not deserving the space they took up in my phone and the time in my life. Crazy how in hindsight I see moments that were once with love, now in disgust because of some beautiful truth.
So few people and a lot of pictures of them. I don’t do lots of people. I have a select few that I pour in to. I know how valuable I am so I don’t spread myself thin. No need or desire to.
I just am.
I’ve been struggling with profile pics. Hard to find anything that wholly represents me. In looking back, I found a couple that hit right, so we will see how long they stay up.
What I saw in my patterns impressed me. I am consistently me. I don’t morph or change, I actually have a clear, solid, identity that I communicate clearly. A friend told me that’s what he admires, how open and honest I am about my good, bad and ugly. He says it takes a lot of (insert yiddish words) to be that way. He can be that with me, but it’s difficult otherwise.
While it comes pretty naturally to me, I think I’m getting it now after about 5 years of being around people I never was previously. People are so busy performing and conforming that they have little idea of who they really are and what they really want and how to just be decent. And because people are so judgmental, bitter and really just downright terrible they never practice clear, honest, deep communication. It’s easier to pretend and conform and pretend to be different, than deal with the courage it takes to truly buck the norm and be genuine. They consistently lie to themselves and others. It’s a very sad existence but it’s the norm. Glad I’ve grow way beyond that bullshit.
And this is really pervasive in certain socioeconomic environments.
Some grow out of it, most never do. A 100-year-old gent said he came back from WWII emotionally damaged. He had a real excuse as a POW, yet he also had self-awareness. It makes me wonder about the current emotional handicap so fucking many people have and their fear of being self-aware and accountable. Part of me thinks it just choice. Then I have to fight against that simplistic rationale because I have conversations with my mini-me and realize things I bring up she has either never considered or has never asked herself or never heard in the conversations she has in her circle. Widen your damn circle and I really don’t care why any longer. I’ll eat popcorn and enjoy the shitshow like it’s a series on Netflix.
Perfect example of comfort, conformity and the detrimental effects of such. So I guess the answer is environment.
I go visit a bit of my history (an environment) every once in a while, to remind me of how different from them I really am (have always been), how much I don’t pretend and how far I’ve come of my own accord. Until recently I never even realized I was in a den of vipers while I was there, one of which shared everything with me. They say fools and children are protected, my level of naivete probably put me into the fool category LOL. Going actually makes me ill. I’m not sure why I do it besides convenience. Last time I went, I got into an argument with myself and had to go outside and sit on the curb to get back to center. Then I still had to fight myself to go back in one more time before the day ended. It felt so good to drive the fuck off.
When I go there, what I see still amazes me a little. It’s like a bubbling, gooey mass of sedentary. There are some I’m still able to help expand through giving some ideas that could help them in their jobs and with their money, although I am careful and selective. I also got news that one person may be crawling out of the mire, and it genuinely put a smile on my face because…
Comfort is THE bitch that tricks.