Squinting to See Through

We all process everything in our lives through personal filters.
I know this. I even know it as it is happening. But even so it happens.
What I mean is, I have a filter that says I will be lied to and let down.
It's happened and that is where the filter came from.
But what happens when you run the filter on someone who hasn't previously done those things to you? You judge them on your history. Not the history that you both may share but on your own. 

Clearly that isn't fair, right or reasonable. But reason doesn't always enter into these things. Instead a kaleidoscope of swirling illogical emotions takes over and everything in you starts saying 'Danger, Will Robinson!' The next thing that happens is either flight or fight.  Even if this isn't what you really want. All you know in the moment is it must be done. 

It takes a patient person to see through this behavior to what is really going on. It takes a loving person to persist through this behavior. It takes a person with great compassion and faith to see beyond this behavior into the future. 

I'm lucky because I have such a person in my life.  I'm hoping for both our sakes I can, someday, adjust the filters to reflect current reality.

I Got Your Point

I want to believe that deep down you know what you have done/are continuing to do is wrong.
You can continue to do this because I won't defend myself.
To do so I'd have to say things that would hurt you and do it publicly.
I don't want that, never have. That isn't the kind of person I am or ever will be.
To know that you are deceiving others about my character, and the role you have played, (including your closest friend, someone I always respected) hurts. But that is the point isn't it?
I can't change you or control what you do. All I can do is to continue being happy with my life and the people I've chosen to be in it. Oh and also this-forgive you, which I most certainly do. Namaste

Giving Birth or Burial?

The news is full of discussions on our carbon footprint. Tonight I'm thinking about my footprint on this life and the people in it. I'm not a volunteer. I'm not a blood donor, reading tutor or community server.

So what good am I? I don't hold a job outside the home. I haven't invented anything, built anything or contributed a great work of art to the world. I've raised a couple of great young men. I'm a friend. I thought I was a good wife and had always been proud of an enduring marriage. I was a daughter. To my second cousin Edie I was 'Dolly' I've either been fat or too thin depending on when and what parent you might have asked. I've been called generous, adorable, judgmental, selfish and sweet.

I have a much loved friend who is currently contemplating her worth. Especially to her husband. I understand this much better than she knows. I contemplate my worth a lot. And wonder like the famous Christmas movie what life would be like if I was dead.

So what is my footprint on my life? My worth? If I had been able to answer this at all this ability ended in '08. But it is time now, I think, to once again begin searching for these answers. Because I don't want someone else's actions to define me even by default.
I've helped some people. I've listened, talked, dished out sympathy, provided some ideas. I've cooked meals, bandaged knees, paid for lunches, paid for vet care and comforters.
I've held hands and made love. I've enjoyed books, music and new places. I've given birth and buried my parents. I've washed dishes, clothes, floors and small faces.
I've changed my outlook on a few things and am still up in the air on others. I've had some relationships.

What does all this add up to? Who is this person?

The Sun Will Rise

The sun will rise tomorrow. I'm pretty sure. But these days that is about all I trust.
I never was a completely trusting child. One of my earliest memories is my Father chasing my Mother into a bathroom. She locked herself in and I remember him pounding on the door and yelling. I was in a high chair in the kitchen beside that bathroom.

Maybe this is why I've always felt outside of myself watching my life as I live it. Because to fully inhabit this life requires a level of trust I've never achieved. Despite the rocky start, there have been some things I've been able to trust. I trusted my husband to be and act honorably with no intent to harm me or our marriage.
I trusted that I would be a good Mom because I wanted to be more than anything.
I trusted that as long as I wanted to read, authors would write.
So two out of three ain't bad right?

Lately I find myself with viewpoints so disparate from another's that I catch myself wondering if there is some clue I've missed that is preventing me from adopting their viewpoint.
As best I can figure, there is no clue I've missed. There is only two people standing on opposite edges of a deep chasm with no way to bridge the gap.
I'm not planning a zip line crossing so I must find a way to trust myself in this situation. Why? Because, though I wish otherwise, it's for my own good.
Because I'm no longer that youngster, trapped in her high chair, as the two people who were her world began the dissolution of it.

I realize that not trusting is damaging me. But I don't know how to fix it.
Taking this step to advocate for my own good, however, might at least, be a start.