I am often at a quandary about the thoughts floating around my head about what I see, feel and want to say. How much of it is truth and how much of it is ego and delusion? Do other people agree? I don’t get social cues like head nods nor do I care about likes and hearts, those are just lazy ways of showing support.
Listening to a podcast a while back they were talking about the veranda as a metaphor. The part of us that only lets people in part way. The facade that lets people see the good face we show to the world. Going beyond the veranda to the inner world, the home to darkness and the reality we are hiding from is the world that is never shown. These days the real face of many has been shown and it’s not a pretty one.
How can we be an open book and be of service when there is nothing but darkness? I am reminded of a Catholic priest speaking during a convention many years ago where he evoked a famous quote, “I am not here to comfort the inflicted, I am here to inflict the comforted.” This is a powerful statement and one that has stuck with me for a very long time, which to this day informs my writing.
My proclivity is towards wanting shake things up, challenge people’s notions and delusions. The only way I can do it as a writer, is to write from experience. That does not always mean being nice. It means being truthful and that often is painful and something people do not want to hear or maybe are not even ready to hear.
All I know, I will keep doing what I am doing because it is what I do.