Tears Revisited

A while ago I had an instructor tell me, "You must live a rigid life." I was dumbfounded. I said, "I don't, really." He said, "Judging by your work, your life is very rigid." I stuttered a bit and he interrupted, "No, I can tell." I immediately stopped because I knew that I wouldn't convince him otherwise so there was no point in arguing with him. I knew better. If he wanted to believe my life is rigid, no amount of arguing on my part would convince him. He was rigid in his view of me.

I was in a discussion with another couple of friends who lament the fact that we, as a culture/society, don't let our feelings show. We have been taught to hide our feelings. I agree. I have spent the last decade learning to express my feelings and going through a series of understandings regarding them. I am not afraid of my feelings. I acknowledge them and have even gone through the phase of always showing what I felt. I have since realized that honoring your feelings doesn't mean having to show them...it just means recognizing that you are having feelings and not suppressing them. So I don't always show my feelings, but that doesn't mean I don't know I'm having them.

Then I told these friends the story of when I was a year old. (If you haven't read my blog entry title "Tears" do so...it will explain what this entry is all about.) I asked them, "Do you know why I went crying to my room?"

They jumped all over the whole feeling thing..."you weren't allowed to express your tears when you were little."

I said, "No."

"Oh, but you didn't cry. You suppressed it."

"Well, yes, but that's not why I went to my room and cried."

"Society won't let us express ourselves and what we truly feel."

And as they continued on, I realized that no matter what I said, they wouldn't understand why I cried. I made mention of it but it eluded them and they directed the conversation back to feelings.

People can only hear what is inside them. For my instructor, he was extremely rigid in how he judged others...coming to conclusions about them then sticking with those conclusions no matter how wrong they are. So he judged me as being rigid...because that's what he was. For my friends, they were all about feelings and not being able to express them so they viewed me as suppressing my feelings when that wasn't what it was for me at all.

When I say "There is no out there, out there" this is what I'm referring to. We can only see outside of us what's inside of us. I learn the very most about myself when I am at odds with someone else.

Back to my story. Here is why I cried.

I saw a little girl who, by the age of 12 months, couldn't ask for help. I saw a little girl who, by the age of 12 months, didn't have a mother she could turn to for help. And no where in that story did my mother ever say she comforted me. I don't know how to ask for help. I believe I have to do it all by myself. That I am alone. And that makes me sad...knowing it was in place by the time I was a year old.

My mother was invisible and I have been battling invisibility all my life.