It's May. Yep, May, and as a dear old friend reminded me this weekend, I haven't been here to post anything in about three months. Highly unlike me, but for good reason I suppose. Everyone's heard the phrase, "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." I've had a LOT to say in the last three months, but posting it into the blogosphere might not have been the most appropriate thing to do.
Being honest is like being a professional waxer. You have to calmly and clearly prepare your victim for what they're about to endure, and in one fell swoop, rip, pull and remove the bullshit from their lives. It's a dirty painful service, and whether or not we believe it, it's a necessary evil. Everyone can see when you have, or have not, seen a waxer. Just like people can smell the bullshit from a hundred yards away.
It's interesting to me how people feel so safe at times behind their keyboards. Posting mean things, saying how they "really feel", taking off the kid gloves and going for the jugular. The double-edged sword of the internet.... It makes you wonder what our children will do, what they'll say, when they're faced with situations they feel passionately about. Being broken-hearted, feeling betrayed, or lied to; wanting to lash out without actually seeing the other person's face. It's the biggest passive-aggressive movement that there seems to be. It's cruelty without consequences, it's like kicking a blind man. What ever happened to the back to basics phone call? Or conversation over coffee? The victim and the accused eye-to-eye, working things out as two human beings and not two robots. I think there's something distinctly, well, human about that. We don't all have to be friends, and we all aren't going to like eachother. But there should at least be a call for attempting a respectful conversation, not over some cable communication.
I was raised by two loving, wonderful parents. These two people gave me the most mixed messages about communication I could possibly receive growing up. I couldn't decide how I was supposed to not rock the boat, so to speak, while still getting my voice heard and my point across. As I've gotten older, I've come to the conclusion that it's nearly impossible - yes, mentally, spiritually, even physically impossible to hold my tongue. It's mostly when I'm being lied to, or when I hear something come out of someone's mouth that is so preposterous I can barely hold my breath in. Cutting words, back-handed compliments, and sarcastic delivery isn't heard at all as well as a straight-forward, non-elevated "you're full of shit", "you are acting crazy", or "what in the world is your problem?", and waiting for the response. I believe it's the reason that my marriage and any relationship worthwhile having will likely last for the rest of my life. I'd rather people know they can get the cold hard truth from me, like it or not, than to have an ample supply of smoke blown up their asses.
One would at this juncture, point out that I, myself, have been holding my tongue, doing what I've called physically impossible, for a few months now. How can I possibly stand up on my feet and walk around? I think that there's also something to be said for waiting for the opportunity to present itself. It's clearly one thing to blast your honest, uncensored opinion to whoever you feel needs to hear it. It's quite another to wait until the moment arises when it'll make the most impact, and sear itself into the brain of whoever you're pointing your position to. Because we don't always remember what is being said to us as much as we can recall where we were, how it felt to hear it in the moment it was being said, and knowing that there was no where to run and hide away from the truth.
Let the waxing commence.
No comments:
Post a Comment