Today is the Day of the Wall for Me.
Earlier, I responded to a blog prompt that was generated by WordPress. I really did not mean to open a keg of worms; yet, several things have evolved from that post–and such is the nature of writing.
Once the Cat is Out of the Bag, it often runs screaming through town, and that is probably why many people have Walls. They do not want the Cat Out of the Bag, and they do not want its reverberation. The wonderful thing about life is that EVERYONE gets to choose the way that they would like to express themselves–EVERYONE–Even Me!
I wrote a fairly short piece, saying that my family is fractured and that I attribute some of that to the fact that people seem to fall into 2 camps, as far as how one should express himself.
There are people who play their cards very close to their vest. In some cases, the cards are held so very closely that the person holding the cards never even see them himself. Those people are the Kings and Queens of Denial–and they love their state of denying.
On the other hand, there are those of us who will speak to anyone who listens. We are the Artists. We Paint, We Poem, We Blog, We Dance, We Sing Ourselves Loudly and Clearly. We don’t force other people to receive us; in most cases, we sing for ourselves. If anyone hears, so be it.
After writing my post, saying that my family is fractured, I posted it on Facebook. I always do that. In most cases, people don’t even respond to those Facebook posts. I had decided that none of my Facebook Friends ever even looked at what I was writing on my blog. Yet, moments ago, a Facebook Acquaintance commented on my post.
I use the word Acquaintance deliberately. Over half a century ago, I barely knew this person in high school; yet, somehow, now we are Facebook Friends. In his comment, this person said the following:
Sorry to hear about the hard feelings, but family will always be family. I will share something with you that may put a smile on your face. The strongest memory I have of you is one day in band you were taking to one of your girl friends and I overheard the conversation. You had been to see South Pacific and you were completely over whammed but it. I can still hear the excitement in your voice as you described in detail the story line, music and the setting. Funny I have no idea why I would have remembered this.
I could write volumes about what my friend said in his comment and why–and how that affected me.
For now, I’ll only say the following, which I did say in my response:
That brings tears to my eyes, [Friend’s Name] I am pretty much that same exuberant girl who is absolutely in awe of life. I probably am a bit too exuberant for many. That is probably a great illustration of the reality that I have no walls. With me it is “What You See Is What There Is.” That Scares Walled People to Death!
In looking at my own family, I feel quite sure that my effusiveness scares people in my family. They process their fear as anger toward me–or disgust, but they are really just scared. I don’t think that their fear is so much that I’ll expose them [althought that is the case for some]. Rather, I think the greatest fear is that my effusiveness will forces those individuals to see themselves.
For many, many years, I have allowed other people’s fear of my effusiveness to hold me back–to restrain me. I had all but quit doing any art at all–because of other people’s fears. In the end, I could not back my cat closely enough anyway. At this point, I finally write to hear myself sing.
I Write Because the Caged Bird Does Not Sing Here
The posts about my fractured and walled family Here
image credit https://creatividualworkshops.wordpress.com/2012/05/20/inspiration-south-pacific/