I have been thinking a lot…


Some would say too much…


I have discovered the fact that the hardest part about growing up is figuring out your own faults and owning them. For instance, I am flaky albeit mainly with myself. The number one person that I always let down… is me. I assume the worst in myself. I mean, why not? If I evade my own disappointment by lowering my expectations than the disappointment from others is nonexistent. This is my fault, one of many. Now, I have grown to own this fault and I have been thinking that maybe I was wrong. I cannot automatically assume the worst anymore. As I find myself telling my daughter from time to time, I am too old for such foolish things. Well, maybe the wording is different for her but the idea is still the same. I have been through enough to begin giving myself credit for at least some of it. Instead of owning my self-esteem issues, I need to give myself a chance to truly fail because at least that would mean that I tried. Disappointment is only a means to improve, is it not?


I enjoy being a creative person for the way it allows me to examine my surroundings. I see beyond what is visible to the various possibilities of what may lie underneath. While, in some instances, it can drive the cynicism that crawls beneath my skin it can also give me the chance to not accept anything at face value. The surface of something is never as it seems. Things are not simply black and white. However, they are not grey either. Just because we see one thing does not make it true. This is our interpretation of an event, a word, a phrase, or even a glance. It is a proven fact that a witness statement may be unreliable especially if there is more than one. While we may want to blame ourselves for this, it is not our fault. Misinterpretation is built into our biology. There are even physical disorders that are believed to cause a comforting touch to turn into excruciating pain. There are some that cause allergies or an inability to see color. There are even theories stating that the true color of something may not be exactly what we see. The color blue to one person may be closer to green to their neighbor. How could we really know the difference? How would we really know that violet is not actually violet? Maybe nature has given us colors that humans are now choosing to be a lie…


And, maybe, we are wrong…


The expedited nature of information in our current society has made us all the “one-footers”. We see only what is right in front of our faces. There may only be one area that we do not agree with but we become so focused on it that nothing else matters. On the contrary, we might find one instance of positivity that might blind us from the negative. With the vast sea of information at our fingertips these days, it has become increasingly difficult to not only sort the good from the bad but, also, to distinguish our own thoughts from the thoughts of others. This is why I have been thinking a lot lately.


I choose not the surround myself with politics, religious debates, or even movie critiques at this time but allow myself the chance to think. I have an opinion. Hell, sometimes I even have many, awkwardly at the same time. I become passionate about nothing in particular because I am giving myself some time to think. I daydream, examine varying scenarios, stare at an object blankly, or just close my eyes. I haven’t written anything down in a while because of it. Our interpretations are off at the moment and I think that we all need to stop. We need to reflect. Let’s close our eyes and allow ourselves the chance to feel something again. Reach down and touch the ground. Take a moment and examine the texture of the dirt. Bring it to your nose and allow the scent of it to bring a memory to the surface. We need to stop taking in everything from the outside and give ourselves the chance to bring something up from the inside. I have found myself in a state of self-examination and am beginning to realize that some things need a change. This may very well be the nine hundredth time that I have done this but it feels different somehow. There are no plans, no statements of what comes next because I just don’t know. At this point, your guess is as good as mine. I wish that I could say that I will write some other nonsense next week but I just don’t know. I cannot give myself a deadline or a limitation. I would rather not give you an empty promise. The past few months have left me expressionless. They have closed me off in a way for I do not wish to absorb an idea at this time. I simply wish to think…


A lot…


Some would say too much…


But this is me, taking a moment to bring something up from the inside.


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