Self

It's been awhile I see, so I will brush off ordinary excuses and go with, I had been stretched out on my back, hands behind my head, staring up at the underside of my Iris plant watching the world drift along waiting for some gorgeous blooms.........until life reached down, gave me a resounding bitch slap and with that smack I've had to make a choice, crawl back under my soft zone, or emerge right along with the blooms.

So here I am, at all things ignored. I don't feel so well, in fact, I'm fighting off sad and would be perfectly content remaining silent and blissfully depressed. (For the season and reason of my grief, one could, if they wished to satisfy the curiosity factor, visit my other journal at Lavender Black ) But sad and depressed are different then simply quiet and observing, so movement is in order and this residence is one I can achieve progress.

I had to read something, a paper I wrote that will probably be the hardest thing I'll ever write, this weekend in front of 120 people. Public speaking is something I wouldn't say I love, but I've never been that evasive of it either. I've given classes, pulled of speeches, la de da, not a big deal, but this weekend I experienced a sensation I doubt I'll ever forget and it quite possibly scared me for life in the public speaking arena.

When I walked up to the podium, turned to face the crowd and introduced myself, I was as steady as could be expected. I had given myself numerous pep talks, internally bitch slapped my emotions so many times they were under check, and re-read the material ahead of time so much, I almost knew all 4 pages by heart.

Then I started to read. Somewhere in that very first paragraph I felt my fingers start to tingle, and that sensation continued with every word for 4 pages, to weave it's way through my entire body. The only part of me that didn't fail was my voice. I somehow managed to keep it steady and true the entire time, but by the end my entire body was shaking numb and I had to steady myself by holding the podium before attempting to return to my seat. The shaking was so horrendous, the people in the front row could visually see my struggle.......

I've now deemed my bodies traitorous reaction an internal implosion of emotion held so tight it had no where to go but within itself.  Which sounds much better then a possible anxiety attack, a meltdown of physical body control or a plain old panic of the third power. I expected near perfection from myself, and realize now how often I place unrealistic expectations on my own responsibilities, that I would never place on another soul. It was all rather surreal, but I survived and today, I'm again honored I had the privilege.

This is what I appreciate when bad things happen. People come together. Things like schedules and appointments, cleaning house and TV programs become ridiculously irrelevant. When bad things happen, focus turns from self serving to self sacrificing. People come together in ways, that one would think they would want or more importantly, need......all the time. Why is it so hard to maintain self sacrificing and holding people close during the ordinary week?  It is of great mystery to me.

I took a late night walk with my Father Saturday. He said something I haven't and won't forget. He said, "This is why I can walk down this street free from guilt, should haves and could haves. I was a good son, I told her I loved her often, I visited her every single week, I offered my help even though she never asked and I never expected anything in return. She did the same for me. I can live with that."

Body betrayal aside, I can live with everything I did as well. It's all good.