Honesty

 It occurred to me earlier today that we are almost forced in life to be actors in a play. There is the student hat and the teacher hat, the therapist hat and the client hat; one person being in a hierarchy higher than the other. I noted twice earlier today mention of seeking wisdom, from one person further along the path of life or of growth than the other. It's all normal; all good.

But, what happens when we are forced to hold in thoughts just because the other doesn't want to hear them; or gets mad about hearing them?

It's all done for best practice a lot of the time - we don't want to offend or to pry or to overstep the mark. So, we keep our thoughts to ourselves.

Our thoughts, of course, aren't necessarily right or wrong. They are just thoughts and some aren't worthy of being shared. 

Some thoughts need to be corrected; modified; adapted. We are just learning. I think we try on thoughts to learn; to learn what is in our head.

Some people are like a wack a mole game; remember that? You say something and they wack you down without a thought. If you are lucky , they politely explain that that's a tender subject and they are a bit precious about it right now. Of course, you back off immediately.

I have spent a lifetime holding onto the vast number of my thoughts. You probably have too. We have thousands of thoughts every day and we couldn't express them all if we tried.

The problem for me is that my internal definition of intimacy is that I would be able to express nearly all my thoughts. I am not necessarily referring to a sexual relationship but rather to a relationship where we are safe enough with one another to share practically any thought.

Sometimes in my marriage we do share a thought where it gets close to the bone - could, in another moment, cause some upset - but it's said and shared and we respectfully register an intimacy of the mind and heart. We've tread close to a landmine and neither of us blew up.

We are not always so lucky.

So, here I sit with a trillion thoughts that I have held onto; unshared thoughts.

At times, I come into contact with people who work in odd spaces - past lives, for example. They say that that's my story, my lives - my keeping my thoughts to myself. If it was history, some period of time even more gender defined than now, chances are I had no choice.

I kept a lot of thoughts away from my parents too, especially my mother. 

As soon as you know it is not safe to share your thoughts, well, naturally enough, you safeguard them in a spot that is safe - deep inside.

I shared with someone recently that I sometimes write down my thoughts. I don't read them back. I tear them up and throw them away.

Why? Because, they aren't  sometimes that nice and not meant for the consumption of others. I might be registering anger; contempt; frustration. I could sit in meditation and let them pass through. That would be fine. But sometimes, writing them down very fast and furiously is very freeing.

Once upon a time, if I had these not nice feelings about my husband, on occasion I expressed them. It seemed honest. And, it seemed fair because it was his behaviour that led to those thoughts.

But I came to see that he saw them for what they were: passing through. It didn't alter him or make him do something at all. He dances to his own drum whether I speak my truth or not. So, often I don't bother. I don't need the whole 'fight or flight' circumstance for my body that would ensue.

The man in prison that I write to...I came to see that he is happy to speak his truth and I am a safe place (as safe as you can be knowing someone probably reads all our letters). That's a great honour to me; to be able to be that person for him.

When death might come knocking on your door by way of a court ruling, it really does focus the mind. There's so much less allowing one part of the mind to cover over another part of the mind, so that so many thoughts can't be thought, felt, shared, or heard. I love the honesty of the exchange.

I noticed in the last letter I wrote which I am about to walk up to the Post Office that I responded to his thoughts and at the last moment noted that all was well on my end. I can't imagine anyone really buys such a broad statement but in comparison, of course, of course I am fine. My job is to be fine: to be the vessel in which he pours his thoughts. At least, that's the way I see it.

Here on the blog? Well, I do monitor myself, yes, it's true. You know I have been at times that person who said of someone on the street, 'She would be so much prettier if she were a little thinner.' It's a true thought but one that my family felt I shouldn't say. So, I stopped sharing those thoughts.

In the Johnny Depp trial it was claimed that certain tests can pick up when someone is adjusting answers to make themselves look good. I wouldn't be surprised. Isn't that what we do on a daily basis ourselves?

Personally speaking, I find, more and more, complete honesty so refreshing. Maybe one day, it will be a thing.