It has been said that everyone has a reason in life. The trick is finding your reason for being here and becoming the best at whatever that reason might be. Sometimes though, it seems that the reason you think you are here might not be the reason you actually are.
I think my writing is a gift. It’s a bit weird for me to be able to say that because I also believe I am, other than in a teasing way, one of the most non-egotistical people around. Stating your gift, or gifts, certainly feels seriously egotistical.
I can express the idea that in my mind at least, I am a wonderful writer. I write happy, I write sad, I write bored and I write angry. It is harder for me not to write than it is to write. And dammitall, I think I’m pretty good at it. But even here I am aware of my limitations, or at least some of them. For the most part I write awful poetry. It’s usually syrupy and pedantic with an absence of depth. When I write poetry, what you see is generally what you get.
Kind of a theme in my life. I’m pretty open and obvious even when attempting to be circumspect by covering up my emotions. Maybe I do this subconsciously. In reality, I am the epitome of the Cancer Woman. When I hurt it shows. Perhaps I want someone to acknowledge that hurt, pet me and tell me how it will somehow all be all right. I don’t expect other people to fix my hurts or my problems, I just want extra love. Maybe. Perhaps my moral choice so many years ago of not lying has simply leaked out into this aspect of my life as well.
Because I’m certain I can lie. Everyone can. I found out when I was fairly young though that I could lie convincingly. I had a natural ability to create stories, fabrications, and believable misdirections. I could probably sell ice to the Innuits and wool sweaters to tropical inhabitants.
So I don’t do it. And so, when I am angry or scared or hurt, it usually shows.
And so I write. I take reality and get to bend it to my will and my pen, to let loose my inner liar, to create stories in whatever manner I choose.
And this, actually, is not the reason for this post.
In reality, while I believe my gift is my storytelling (perhaps you can call it lying), there is a distinct possibility that I am incorrect in my assessment. Perhaps the reason that I am placed upon this humble Earth is for a different reason altogether.
Perhaps my reason for being is merely to be here for other people. Again, I’m a Cancer. Apparently it is what we do.
While that sounds wonderful, perhaps even noble, it appears to me that while I am busy attempting to share the burden of some, to make others feel peaceful, to help whomever I can with the resources I enjoy, there are others out there that use my gift for ill.
There are people in this world who will indicate that they espouse the edicts of live and let live; peace, love and harmony; or first, do no harm. But they are merely paying lip-service to these ideals. At the first brush of pain or hurt or anguish in their lives, they lash out. Instead of accepting their own feelings, they lay blame. And in my experience, oft-times, their pain, or anger, or jealousy is directed outwardly and to a source not quite rational.
Perhaps this is part of my reason. To be helpful to those that I can and a target for those who are in need of one.
I have to tell you, it isn’t my favorite.
I dislike getting foul, angry emails from ex-girlfriends of my lover. I cringe at the necessity of turning the other cheek as I am taunted or treated contemptuously by those who feel they are better than I or by ex-wives,or ex-whatevers, especially when my lover is out of hearing range. I do not appreciate being misunderstood and lashed out at by anyone, especially those with whom I am intimate.
And yet, I seem to be a focal point for those who have no control over themselves or their actions. It wounds me greatly to be treated in this manner and I seem to be incapable of hiding it. I will not fight for myself over petty differences or in accepting this emotional backlash. I will not retaliate in an effort to make myself feel better. Where exactly, is the love and kindness and peace in that?
There isn’t any.
So, while I may be hurt, I am also in control. Do not believe that my lack of retaliation is a sign of weakness when it is, in fact, a sign of my strength. But also do not believe that I will accept the burden of another’s lack of self control when it comes to those I love or when that abuse begins to affect others due to the irrationality placed upon me.
Never believe that I am incapable of standing up for myself in addition to protecting others. I simply choose what I believe is the best course towards peace and harmony – not only in my life and for the lives of those surrounding me, but for the greater good and peace in the world.
Do not believe my acceptance is stupidity or gullibility. I am both intelligent and intuitive. I understand what is going on; I get the thinly veiled attempts at derision, the snide remarks, the put-downs. I simply choose to not engage. Do not misunderstand this, or me.
I am not weak, I am strong.