River
Active member
It's lovely to see you taking "vast" care of yourself, Neegoola! Would that we all could do so with ourselves! The world would be so much the better.
Today I am meditating on the word, sincere.
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/sincere
The Long Lost Love guy (mentioned above) said something that rang in my ears all of these years, about my being sincere. And he and I talked about that the other day on the phone. It's true. Sincerity has long marked my personality, has been both what I longed for (more of it!) and what has guided me all along.
But the truth is, today, my sincerity feels like unilateral disarmament, and has a sad quality about it, a kind of grief. For ours is not a world that much celebrates and honors
sincerity, perhaps especially in men. People are often put off, offended, by vulnerability and authenticity, it seems. Sometimes I feel as if I cary a deadly virus and I'm sneezing and caughing its scary germs in public places. Sometimes I feel toxic, as if I am exuding acid fumes. Sometimes I feel like an alien species.
Or maybe I'm just grieving for the fear and trembling which causes so many to hide behind masks and fronts, in shielding and armor. Or maybe I'm afraid to unmask and unshield further, as I so want to do. Or maybe I'm afraid I'll be abandoned if I follow my calling to its logical conclusion. It's probably all of the above. But today I know the whole thing is raw, difficult, painful. I see people I love who are anguished because they simply don't know how to open up and tell the truth about themselves, lay it all out there and be loved in it. So that they can come home to themselves, at last.
Today I am meditating on the word, sincere.
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/sincere
The Long Lost Love guy (mentioned above) said something that rang in my ears all of these years, about my being sincere. And he and I talked about that the other day on the phone. It's true. Sincerity has long marked my personality, has been both what I longed for (more of it!) and what has guided me all along.
But the truth is, today, my sincerity feels like unilateral disarmament, and has a sad quality about it, a kind of grief. For ours is not a world that much celebrates and honors
sincerity, perhaps especially in men. People are often put off, offended, by vulnerability and authenticity, it seems. Sometimes I feel as if I cary a deadly virus and I'm sneezing and caughing its scary germs in public places. Sometimes I feel toxic, as if I am exuding acid fumes. Sometimes I feel like an alien species.
Or maybe I'm just grieving for the fear and trembling which causes so many to hide behind masks and fronts, in shielding and armor. Or maybe I'm afraid to unmask and unshield further, as I so want to do. Or maybe I'm afraid I'll be abandoned if I follow my calling to its logical conclusion. It's probably all of the above. But today I know the whole thing is raw, difficult, painful. I see people I love who are anguished because they simply don't know how to open up and tell the truth about themselves, lay it all out there and be loved in it. So that they can come home to themselves, at last.