I’m back in action now after my lengthy physical ailment (November to February) and I feel great. It is amazing what having chronic pain will do to your sensibilities and overall constitution. I was in a state of ‘being’ depression. My entirety was warding off the constant prickling and dullness pulses that brought about a flat lined snap to my zip.
My compassion level for those who live with constant pain has increased ten fold and it brings to mind the reality that for as much as we think we know what is going on in someone’s life, we actually don’t. There are undercurrents and multiple layers wrapped around us as we interact one to another and not all of them are self-made.
We are all aware of the common practice of putting on masks that are neither Mardi Gras nor west African. Playing the true hypocrite is an art that many seek to master. However, there is a kind of layering that doesn’t have a purposed intent. It just exists.
Each one of us is an archive with a long list of saved and deleted files that are constantly defragging. You can never be sure of what stage you are conversing with or at what speed the processing is functioning, yet we know that the underneath is there working between obvious and suppressed and above the heart and soul.
I am not advocating some dualistic realism or quasi-MacLaine navelhood here, rather what I am promoting is an awareness that there are a plethora of shaping influences lurking below your visual awareness that the conversant you are interacting with is having to wrestle. And being aware of this lack of awareness on your end makes you aware that you don’t have the full story and their list of files and this knowing should generate patience in your understanding and slowness in your discontent.
