Where To Begin…

Well, friend, that is the everlasting gobstopper of questions for me, and one that has screwed me up for many years.

 I mean, do I start at the beginning? Because that would be far too long for one post, and yet, isn’t it ad rem to the subject matter?  Then again, I typically end up wrestling with that old adage “We don’t need to hear your life story” and I get all flustered and embarrassed and can’t figure out which way is up, and I start second guessing and doubting myself, sigh… but I’ll come back to that at a later date.

I can’t very well start at the end, because I don’t know what the ending is, and well, the middle is just a bunch of blurry, disorderly snippets so grabbing anything of relevance from it, is kind of like playing the lottery.

So I’ll just stick to the present, that is where I’m at, and it’s the only thing that hasn’t gotten too warped by time yet.

Now, let’s go back to the beginning (see what I did there) and take a closer look at that statement, “We don’t need to hear your life story”. That’s what a lot of us say when we are bored and impatient, or when it feels like time has stopped completely as we wait on pins and needles for our chance to speak again. You know, when we aren’t actually listening to the other person but rather, just waiting to talk.

But see, that is one of those crazy dichotomies of being human. We say we don’t want to hear or read about other people, and their dramatic story that has made them who they are. But then we turn around and gorge ourselves on gossip columns, tell-alls, and biographies (auto or otherwise). Why? I ask myself that a lot, why do I do that, and yet can’t be bothered to give the same attention to the people in my life?

I think it’s simple really, I may not necessarily want to hear that stuff, but I sure as hell need to hear it. It’s a biological necessity to feel connected, understood, less alone in a lonely world. On the flipside, there is that gluttonous want to see the mighty fall, in order for me to pass judgement. It’s a way to distract myself with comparisons from the I’d never(s) and how dare(s) gallery. Picking through another person’s garbage, to find comfort within my own dirty bath water.

So, I suppose that is the answer to the question…Where to begin? My own dirty water, I suppose.

I’ve got to admit that this is very difficult for me, to kneel before the court of my peers, place my neck on the block, and be prepared for any critique, rejection, or ridicule that may come. But, that is what I am going to do because that is precisely what someone who is not an embarrassment but confident, would do.


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