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.

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Day 311: Escaping Mental Captivity


Mindful

The other day I was venting on Facebook about a woman I encountered during lunch. Her newfound knowledge had sparked a flame she could not contain as the fruits continually fell from the tree. And, similarly to a rabbit in a carrot field, she consumed more than she could fully digest.

As I ranted on silently in my head and physically on my phone, she appeared unaffected by my designed reclusiveness. Jabbering on she recounts the rich history of our ancestry as if the shaman had just spoken to the little children amongst the cold night and bristling fire of our journey from kings and queens to slaves and cattle and back to mental kings and queens.

Reminiscent of Yoda holding court as Luke Skywalker describes the force. I sit willing myself to engage while rapidly wanting to disengage.

Respectfully conscious of another’s presence I crafted a mental door to escape the forming thoughts flowing forth as they sought to reach her awakening thought. Through a vehicle that has some of us still chained to the machine.

She continues and the more broken thought meets new thought, the more I poetically regurgitate the inner me forcibly holding her in. She’s the cynic I overcome each day. The one that knows the rivers and the valleys and the depths of salvation. She lives, but she rarely drives.

As I drift back to the woman beside me, I call forth the optimistic protagonist. There, yes, there… I rejoin the moment, present once again. She has once again sensed the freshness of the thought. It lacks roots. It’s filled with supplication and limited validation, but the seed has sprouted.

Yet, she still sees the world as the puppeteer and herself as the puppet. External hands directing her actions all the while absolving her of any accountability or responsibility. The moment of eclipse fighting to hold on. Awakening, but her eyelids refuse to open.

I am reminded, “all things are ready, if {when} the mind be so” (William Shakespeare).

She is still caged in an unlocked cell.

Never remembering she is the one with the key holistically capable of setting herself free.

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The “Day 311: Escaping Mental Captivity” (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.

via The Latest Word Reflections of life expressed concisely and succinctly.

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.

Day 227: Reflection – The One Year Anniversary of My Would Be Death!


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I have not written in some time. I have wanted to, but could not find the inspiration. I woke up this morning to a revelation. I almost died last year on this day. I recalled the moment I felt myself falling to the floor in the bathroom stall at work. I recalled the first time, I ever felt real fear. I recalled the first time in my life, I was truly afraid. I was unable to think. I was unable to process. I was in, complete and total pain. I awoke on the bathroom stall.

Throughout this day, it has been on the forefront of my mind. Throughout the day, I have thought of little else. Throughout the day, I have remembered how God saved me. Throughout the day, I have thought about how I shared so little about the experience or the experiences since the post that follows, which is an excerpt from my book I wrote in 2010.

I would like to say, it was eye opening. I would like to say, it was something I never expected. I would like to say, so much. But, there is so much that has transpired that mere words would not fully do it justice.

Yet, I feel better than I ever have. I feel like myself again. I feel alive. I feel hopeful. I feel free. I feel grateful. I released so much negativity today that had been strangling me for so long. I opened up and let the truth speak for itself. I held no punches. I held nothing in reserve. I simply told the truth.

I wrote about a journey, and God saw fit to not only deliver it, but see me through it.

In one-week’s time, I will be in my own place for the first time in fifteen years. I am excited.

I have been through the wringer. Yet, I do not look like what came at me. I do not look like what I lived with. I do not look like what I had hanging on my back or around my next. I look good. I feel good. And, by the grace of God, I am good!

And, ready for the next segment of my journey. I am completely and totally free from the tainted yoke and spirit that has hung around my very being for the last fifteen years.

Journeys

August 15, 2010

Many Journeys begin without even a clue of possibility or awareness a journey has even begun.  People wake up one day and walk out into the world to see two diverting paths.    It is your journey.

Down one path is a light of spectrum hope and renewal of life.  It appears to contain a sense of peace.  It appears to recognize the truth in life of this moment.  It appears to treat the journeymen as a welcomed addition.  It appears.    It is your journey.

Down the other path is a dark gloomy cloud road of silence.  It beckons the quite morning air.  It is a place where most look for God and find themselves.  It is a place opposite of what is expected when things are least expected.  It is, because he is, and we are who he called us to be.  It is your journey.

It is a journey of love, hope, joy, despair, prosperity, and much more than anyone one person could truly comprehend or undertake without a guiding force.  It is a journey meant to build character.  It is a journey meant to strengthen your mind.  It is a journey meant to fortify your body.  It is a journey meant to bring you into your destiny and out of your past.  It is a journey of where your dreams are realized and your hopes are fulfilled.  It is your journey.

In life we go through many journeys.  Some of them are pleasant.  Some of them of joyous until the bottom drops, the roof caves in, and the wall come tumbling down.  It is a life full of mystery and a heart full of missed chances and second time romances.  It is a place of peace in the midst of a storm and the place of joy in the day of celebration.  It is a journey you pray ends understanding the next one is set to begin.    It is your journey.

My life has been filled with many journeys.  Some have brought joy.  Many have held pain.  A few have been a part of you, a few a part of me, and a few a part of Dawn.  Yet, in them all I am what I could have never been without being tossed into the sea, so I could learn how to swim.  It is said only the strong survive.  I wonder if they understood this truth:

My strength is defined by my character.

My strength is recognized in my walk.

My strength is confirmed by my actions.

My strength is solidified by my beliefs.

My strength is renewed in each victory.

My strength is displayed in my features.

My strength is controlled by the Creator.

My strength is acknowledged by what you see and not what you hear.

My strength is me and it is a part of you, because each person we touch can either add too or subtract from what we are.  It is your journey.

Be careful in who you allow into your life.  In my journey I realized one thing that carries me through each day.  True strengthen comes from those closes to you who remain with you in spite of what they see or what they hear.  They become a part of your journey.  They become a part of you.  They become a part of me.  They become, because you are within me.  Yet, how do we define what is you and what is me.    It is your journey.

I stopped trusting in this last journey for a spell.  I stopped listening to outside influences for a time.  I stopped acknowledging misspoken truths and half spoken lies.  I listened with my heart.  I listened with my Spirit.  I listened with my mind.  I listened to the beat of the drum in my body and the sensation in my tongue.  I listened to anything, but everything.  I listened to who I wanted to be instead of who they stated I was not to become.  I simply listened.  He heard.  She responded.  They came through.  Who came out is still a work in progress, but I am enjoying the work and the steady growth coming through with it in each passing day.    It is your journey.

I have gone through life without a care.  I have learned to recognize why this matters and why you should care.  At every step you take a new person comes into your life.  They bring with them their own set of issues.  They bring with them their own set of historical challenges in life.  They either deposit something with you or take away from you.  Sometimes they do both.  It is your journey, but most are never taken alone.

This is my life.  I await my future.  I have brief thoughts of my past, but greater hope in my present, because my future holds the key to who God has prepared me, to be in spite of who I appeared as before.  I am his child, but I am also his fruit.  It is my journey, but I share the road if you are able to help carry the load.  It becomes our journey.

So riddle me this…if you began a journey alone and you find a team along the way, would you keep the fruit or keep the lessons.  I choose to keep who I am and what I learned from within by becoming close to my heart of who we are and who we should all be in you. It has become our journey, you, me, and us.

EYHCS

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The  ”Reflection: The One Year Anniversary of My Would Be Death!” (text) by EYHCS published under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License