confession: if our vulnerability is our strength, then i want to tell you the most vulnerable thing because i want to be strong, stronger, always stronger. but telling you the most vulnerable thing may not equal being the strongest, because healthy boundaries in a public forum are also, strong, wise, smart. if i have to choose between being strong and being smart, i pick smart, but that might be a smarty-pants finagle from the risk of revealing what frightens me about myself.
confession: if my sock drawer is a reflection of my inner life, it overflows with color and softness and too much goodness that i barely skim the top and repeat. i return clean socks to front of the drawer, continually wearing the same dozen pairs, even though there are more and more and more other colorful soft socks farther back that would be fun to wear without repeating the recently worn ones.
confession: i celebrate new thoughts because they are rare. most of our daily thoughts are repeated thoughts. i relax into new thoughts, new connections, new ideas…usually after a nap. naps are alchemical–turning our lethargic brains into bright new-thought-thinking machines. a perfect day in my world includes two naps, one in the morning and one in the late afternoon. i don’t say these things to piss off moms who have other jobs and never nap–i tell you because a six-minute nap is magical, too…and kids can learn how to play the “shhhh…mommy’s resting to help her brain feel happy” game.
confession: i won’t tell you the thing that frightens me most about myself but i’ll tell you the thing that frightens me most about hiking is being stalked by a mountain lion. it’s never happened to me, but it has happened to people i know and it freaks me out when i’m hiking in texas, new mexico, colorado, arizona, california, oregon, and washington. i’m relieved when i hike each day along the trails behind my house that mountain lions don’t live in pennslyvania.
confession: okay, fine, i’ll tell you what frightens me most about myself–my conscious choices to engage in unhealthy behaviors in spite of all evidence, experience, and knowledge i have about undeniable negative and dangerous consequences.
confession: i witness you doing the same.
confession: my witnessing of you and myself engaging in unhealthy behaviors is an observation, not a judgment. i’m fascinated by the human tendency to self-destruct.
confession: we’re addicted to distraction. we’re addicted to anything that numbs our discomfort. some of these distractions are praised or rewarded, like “hard work” that belies workaholism or “helping others” that functions as a way to avoid dealing with our own issues. my distraction is a textbook classic eating disorder. yours might be alcohol, pills, porn, shopping, or codependent relationships. or maybe yours is a simple addiction to the smart phone making our society dumb. our avoidance of discomfort is making us more isolated, unhealthy, and unable to intimately connect.
confession: it is easier for me to connect with you here, to write to you what i see and feel and think from this screen than if i were standing in front of you. i started blogging 14 years ago as an exercise in revealing myself. blogging was uncomfortable when i began because it was new to me. blogging has been easy for years because it is familiar to me. poetry is my challenge, but i don’t dare let you read it for fear that my poems are too dark and twisted, like most of my artistic expressions, like me when i’m not intentionally deciding to shine brightly.