If there is a real me, where is it?

Sometimes I feel like saying stuff that is not easily understood by many folks, and yet it might matter, so….

I look around at the piles of notes on scraps of paper on every horizontal surface in my office and I think, “I must get through this stuff, put it in a filing cabinet, or blog it and get the place tidied up. Then I remind myself that the paper is not sitting there inertly. It is today’s paper. Yesterday’s paper did get handled. How did this stuff sneak up on me?

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When I am right, who is left?

The world is in upset. Is it because we are aligning ourselves with ideology and missing the humanity?

When I’m right, who is left?

When I wrote this sentence, I realized that it is complete in itself and can elicit many thousands of words in interesting discussion. I was going to let it be, on its own, just as it was written. But I wanted to make sure my own perspective was known. The ‘right’ one!

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But did you hear the violins?

How can several people hear an orchestra playing and only one of those people have heard any violins? On the other hand, I never heard the French horns and they did.

Is this because there is a huge disconnect between what we do when we are listening to someone as compared to hearing them? What the heck does that mean, anyway? Don’t we hear what we listen to? Yes we do, and that may be the problem. Huh?

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If you ‘come as you are’, who are you?

If I am invited to a ‘come as you are’ party, then who is it that I come as? No, no, I am told, it means to come dressed in what you are presently wearing.

Okay, but what about the ‘mask’ or ‘persona’ that I am wearing? I can keep the clothes okay and I need to know what kind of party it is. That will determine the mask I choose to wear. Strange, aren’t we? We still hide who we are.

 

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