Month: January 2016

Self absorption

I have suddenly realized that all of my best “stories ” from my life center on me. I was the hero of my own tale. While that’s not really unusual, I never saw myself as that self absorbed. I have always put others first. Been sympathetic and empathetic.Yet, today I realized, I see things only from one point of view. As a writer I have tried to at least imagine things from opposing views from my own. I think of it as an exercise. Social media helps. Although I am often disappointed in things I see in others. Don’t get me wrong, I am far from perfect. However I hope to always see kindness and charity…. and I rarely do. Yet this morning I talked online with someone. She was a good friend in high school( admittedly almost thirty years ago now) …And although I remember her vividly, she doesn’t really remember me. Part of my ego was bruised at that.  It got me thinking. Wondering at the variations of all my life stories…. when seen from another set of eyes. Would the things that seemed so darn important to me even have made it to the footnote? Point of view makes all the difference in what direction the stories take. Does it make a difference in who I am? Not sure. Perhaps that still requires thought.

Titles

I started something tonight when i decided to post a blog post. Another step in life to make a mark on the world around me. Still not sure what my mark will be. I struggle constantly with self worth. I am forty… and although Ihave done a lot, I really do not have anything to show for it. I can write code in c#…but I taught myself to do. I craft, making jewelry, crocheting, sewing( although badly). Yet, in the long run, this too is not something where I took classes and have a certificate. I write, both poetry and stories. Yet, though I have four volumes of poetry, a novella and a children’s book published in various formats( still working on releasing them for Nook.) None have sold. Now I add blogger to my titles. Writing isn’t something I could even give up. Nor is drawing. (Even if it feels like I do both badly). Truthfully, in the end I doubt I could really give up doing anything that I do. So my titles grow, and I am still just a high school graduate…
Just for the curious…. my titles include…. Geek, Programmer, Jewelry Artist, Author, Poet, Mom, Crafter, Pansexual, Survivor, Blogger, Artist, Gamer, Pagan and who knows what I’ll add.

Not everyone is rude.

I was reading a local message board online. I do this to help me understand the goings on in my community. However sometimes this really is a bad thing. I end up feeling less social because i see such unkindness out in the word.  A lady was posting how she felt the christmas season had ended and the hate had returned. I think i agree with her as her posts comments made me feel the hate. She posted that her son was trying to help someone and accidentally bumped into someone else. The person he bumped into responded “Don’t Touch Me!” Okay, in his place, if a stranger bumped into me, my first response would have been the same. It’s hard to tell what kind of life that man has lived, so no way of knowing if there are legitimate reasons for his reaction or not.

Normally I would not have done more than shake my head at such a story. An outraged mother thinking her son had been rudely treated. I can see why she was so mean about the encounter. However, there was fifteen responses. All were horrible. People calling him names, and there was even one wishing harm on this poor unfortunate. I was floored. After all, in his place i would have done the same. Not because i was rude…Because with my anxieties and all that i have been through, I don’t handle strangers touching me well. I struggle to react normally when i am in a hugely filled public place…But there are days where it is unavoidable.

Is there no compassion in the world anymore? Could the woman not have merely been proud that she had taught her son to show kindness? Did it not occur to any of the fifteen people who responded that perhaps it was not rudeness, merely an automatic response born of any number of possible reasons? These questions arise and make me sorry for humanity. It feels as if we are losing the kindness and becoming something nasty and cruel. I don’t care if it makes me weird. I refuse to assume the worst of people. I just wish it was a more common trait.