Confession Moment #10: An Artist Heart with a Personal Dilemma


How do you balance a public profile being a private person? I’m writing while I’m thinking, because the subject often comes up, especially, as a blog writer.

Often the stories, poems, and prose are not even about me. But sometimes they are. Other times they are about parts of me or the people I see if that makes sense. Whatever the true subject or objective, the words used to express or describe are indeed mine. So, however, I dress it up, essentially, they are subjectively about something connected to me.

On a personal note, I keep everything close to the vest. I rarely disclose personal details about my life, my friends, my plans, or my family (directly). I’ve been this way as long as I can remember. If I do, then that means you’ve earned a level of trust somewhere in my mind and heart. A level that says similar to how I treat those who share their lives with me, you’re not going to go and shout what I say from the mountaintop. I cherish these relationships because they are difficult to find and hard to keep.

I’d liked to say this originated when I first heard the story of Zachariah in Bible school pre-adolescent, and subconsciously, it may have. However, I’m not convinced that’s true.

I’ve watched people over the years and in watching them, I’ve learned a great deal about boundaries. Everyone’s boundaries are different and I like to keep mine like a fortress at times, if not all the time. The problem I learned about living in a fortress is when you need help, it’s hard for help to find a way in. So the almighty and I struck a balance. He places people in my life I know I can trust and confirms their placement by their actions. It has been working thus far.

I’m sure I’ve been burned in the past, but that’s not what this is about. I am also an artist as I previously wrote earlier in this written dialogue currently happening in my head. And the craft of an artist is extremely public and often very personal. Whether the craft envelopes the artist’s personal challenges, triumphs, or something in between the content is almost always raw.

Thus my actual personal life, I like to keep personal and private. Not necessary a secret, but definitely private.

I had an encounter today with a friend girl of mine who innocently indirectly shared a personal component of my life on a public platform. She was only providing encouragement. Encouragement, I greatly appreciated. However, upon having a quick conversation she quickly understood and respected my wishes that I’d rather not have certain components of my life publicly discussed or commented on overtly. I am grateful for that and for her because others might have misinterpreted my call for discretion. And, turned a molehill into a mountain.

Said interaction brought me back to this confession moment. I regularly share my thoughts, experiences, and beliefs on an array of subjects on my blog and on my community Facebook page. I do so willingly and without reservation. Mainly, in hopes, it liberates someone secretly struggling with similar issues. If my transparency can save a life, provide hope, or simply let someone in the universe know they are not alone, then it’s worth it!

We live in a society where fear, shame, emotional distress, and emotional pain are bottled up until they blow up. So I write to let others know, they are indeed not alone, and most of what we battle are temporary distractions. If my public artist heart can save one soul then the open declarations are worth it every time.

Having said that, I was raised in the church. More specifically, I was raised in a church where every Sunday before communion the Pastor would call all those who had “sinned” during the week up to confess their sins one-by-one into the microphone, publicly, in accordance with our church doctrine before the entire church body. Sometimes these lines were ten to fifteen people deep. And, even after confessing their “sins”, they would each have to stand before the church before he prayed for them out loud about their specific “sin” before they were allowed to be seated.

This practice struck me as odd and invasive. Yet, for 18 years I watched the same people, week after week form a line down the right aisle waiting to be redeemed before as a church body, we could take communion. The practice troubled me, but it was tradition and it was not until years later I would experience something different, so I watched in silence week after week, month after month, and year after year until I was 18th and no longer required to attend church. Did my need for personal privacy stem from this, who knows? But, I do know I had my own silent struggles, I never felt comfortable sharing because of this practice and they followed me into adulthood.

So there was always an invisible shield on my internal thoughts for most of my life. I’m not saying I was muted but definitely guarded. And as luck would have it, for good reasons at times. So it’s rare and special when I really can be truly open on a personal level. I’m not harboring dark secrets. I just enjoy the sanctity of my personal life remaining personal.

Still seeking the right balance between publicly transparent and privately personal.

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“Confession Moment #10: An Artist Heart with a Personal Dilemma” (text) by EYHCS published under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

©EYHCS AND THE LATEST WORD, 2018. UNAUTHORIZED USE AND/OR DUPLICATION OF THIS MATERIAL, INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO YOUTUBE VIDEOS, PAPERS, AND OTHER ORIGINAL WORKS OF ART WITHOUT EXPRESS AND WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THIS BLOG’S AUTHOR AND/OR OWNER IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. EXCERPTS, LINKS, AND IMAGES WITHIN POSTS UNLESS OTHERWISE STATED MAY BE USED, PROVIDED THAT FULL AND CLEAR CREDIT IS GIVEN TO EYHCS AND 15 WORDS OR LESS WITH APPROPRIATE AND SPECIFIC DIRECTION TO THE ORIGINAL CONTENT.

Day 323: Coordinated Elevation


You ever feel yourself shift. I am not referring to a physical movement, but a metaphysical one. It happens when the dots literally and figuratively start connecting almost imperceptibly.

One seemingly insignificant event propels you into action. Each subsequent action confirms the previous one. And, then it happens, coordinated elevation.

It is in that moment your vision expands and your knowledge awakens. Like a well-oiled machine, you began to level up. The shifting is so smooth, it’s almost imperceptible. Yet, your spiritual awareness allows you see the navigation happening as you move pass each level.

The skies open, the band plays, and the performers sings, it’s shifting time. Get ready, get ready, get ready!

If you haven’t trained your metaphysical being, you will miss it! If you have, your bags are already packed! So, lace-up your cross fits & enjoy the fruits of your labor.

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“Day 323: Coordinated Elevation” (text) by EYHCS published under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
©EYHCS AND THE LATEST WORD, 2017. UNAUTHORIZED USE AND/OR DUPLICATION OF THIS MATERIAL, INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO YOUTUBE VIDEOS, PAPERS, AND OTHER ORIGINAL WORKS OF ART WITHOUT EXPRESS AND WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THIS BLOG’S AUTHOR AND/OR OWNER IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. EXCERPTS, LINKS, AND IMAGES WITHIN POSTS UNLESS OTHERWISE STATED MAY BE USED, PROVIDED THAT FULL AND CLEAR CREDIT IS GIVEN TO EYHCS AND 15 WORDS OR LESS WITH APPROPRIATE AND SPECIFIC DIRECTION TO THE ORIGINAL CONTENT.

Day 44: Emotional Hostage


Collages

Have you ever been an emotional hostage?

Would you know?

I didn’t.

 

What does one look like, you ask?

How do we identify one, you ponder?

The answer is elusive.

 

How can you be an emotional hostage if you possess no real emotions?

Where can I find one, you inquiry?

Hopelessness colored by glossy eyes, chirper ideas, and silent tears.

 

Where’s the mirror?

Whose reflection is that?

Yours declares the heart.

 

I never knew I was an emotional hostage until one day I wasn’t.

I never knew I packed away my emotions until the movers unpacked them.

I never knew the other side of me until we were free.

I never knew I just needed to make it through.

 

Then one day, I stopped speaking to prevent the reactions of others.

Then one day, I stopped living to curtail the viciousness of others.

Then one day, I stopped dressing a certain way to conform to others.

Then one day, became another day instead of someday before today.

 

I didn’t know my ability to shield had shielded my emotional prison from myself…

until speaking didn’t curtail my living.

 

I just didn’t know.

But I do now.

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The  “Day 44: Emotional Hostage” (text) by EYHCS published under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License

©EYHCS AND THE LATEST WORD, 2016. UNAUTHORIZED USE AND/OR DUPLICATION OF THIS MATERIAL, INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO YOUTUBE VIDEOS, PAPERS, AND OTHER ORIGINAL WORKS OF ART WITHOUT EXPRESS AND WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THIS BLOG’S AUTHOR AND/OR OWNER IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. EXCERPTS, LINKS, IMAGES THAT ARE THE COURTESY OF INDULGY.COM WITHIN POSTS UNLESS OTHERWISE STATED MAY BE USED, PROVIDED THAT FULL AND CLEAR CREDIT IS GIVEN TO EYHCS AND 15 WORDS OR LESS WITH APPROPRIATE AND SPECIFIC DIRECTION TO THE ORIGINAL CONTENT.