Eventually the real me creeps out of the hole I've burrowed.
I usually come out dancing as though nothing happened.
When I get over my insecurities for a brief moment, living really is like a dance to me.
Generous heaping's of goofiness overwhelm me, most of the time, when I'm not so serious. Behind closed doors to my neighbors, I have wildish dance parties with my Boy and laughing is my regular ab work.
To keep it real means I tap my toes to the sound of the beat--
Watching a movie. TV show. Or even a commercial.
To keep it real means I feel shackled when my voice won't allow me to sing along with the music.
Lately I've been dehydrated. Of self confidence.
Questioning a career will do that, or inconsistencies of a manager.
Or even the buzz of child gossip and bullying, or confusing coaches.
Life, in general, can extinguish confidence.
Along with that, I had three days with a voice barely at mouse-like pitch, though some moments I sounded more like a baby gremlin.
Allergies will do that to a person--building up to a sinus infection and then closing off the larynx.
Life, in general, can make a body sick.
In my comfort living these past few days--legs horizontal on the couch and mug of tea in my hands--I've enjoyed the stillness and quietness.
I've begun to appreciate who I am a little bit more than I had been in a while.
The real me thinks through things, and then thinks them through again. And again. Over thinking every thing.
When I look around and see how decisions seem easy for some people, I want to kick myself for making the simple so complicated.
But, when I am able to sit and relax without the chaos of life *whirling and twirling* around me, I am grateful for the real me who knows a decision of any kind is torturous for me.
Ask me my favorite any thing and you'll probably get a dissertation on how I don't have "favorites"--and it's because I just can't decide.
Maybe my decisions are based on my mood.
Or, maybe it's because I like {most} every thing.
One thing is for sure, I have a real passion for life.
Most every thing about it excites me.
And it's why I never have writers block or have angst about my writing.
For me, there is always something real to share.
: :
This was going to be a Five Minute Friday contribution at my friend Lisa-Jo's place. Friday became Saturday. And five minutes became 15.
The sound of B.O.Y. banged from upstairs and the stillness of downstairs invited me to type a little longer...until said Boy crashed my quiet with his loud and didn't have an ounce of awareness.
The irony is how *real* this moment is to me--my longing for quiet and the Boy's indulgence in loud...and how later I notice his head slowly and quietly peeking around the corner into my space and I think, he really does hear my ranting and he really does care!
_______________________________________________
Hi! Your post was brilliant. It really grips me and I hope you get self-confidence gets better. I have the same problem and I really wish you best.
ReplyDelete