Lens of Perception

I have been yo-yoing back and forth this week trying to come to gripes with an emotional issue. Emotional issues, they suck... The thing about emotional issues is that you never know when you’re going to get zinged. Out of the blue, a comment, a specific look, an incident, a seemingly harmless joke, causes one to stumble and fall face down in the dirt... “What does this mean?”

Did they mean? The thoughts race around my head tumbling over each other? Do they really care about me? Do they care about my feelings? Did they mean to hurt my feelings? Is it really a joke or is it a covert expression of animosity? Before I know it, I am crippled by this inward wrangling...

Now, what bought this on? A seemingly harmless picture posted on MySpace. My son who, I know, has a weird sense of humor posted a picture on my website, which, in first impression said, “I love you.” Now, my first reaction was a nurturing reflex back at him; I am feeling stroked. However, as I look at the picture it takes on a totally different image and my senses are numbed; I inwardly recoil. It’s like, when you are looking at the image of the beautiful woman and as you look she turns into the old hag. The words jumping out, saying, “I Love You” was the beautiful first impression.

Yet, as I gaze I notice the L is a long turd shaped like an L in a toilet bowl! As I gaze, I can almost smell the poop. I stare. Pictures from the past flood my mind.

I am a young child living in foster care and my foster mother is telling me, “that dog’s {her dog) stool is worth more than you.” The images, the words, the feelings of unworthiness swirl within me.

To my rescue, come the words of my writing mentors. I can hear their words in my head saying, “How can you perceive this differently?” “How can you change this?” “How can you bring healing to these memories and put them to rest?” How can you desensitize yourself from this?

Definitely, not by smiling, laughing or saying it’s o.k. when it’s not. Neither, will attempting to bury the emotional issues by compulsively overeating help.

So, I look at that long turd and I think about the miraculous working of our body; and, how if our body doesn’t eliminate its waste, we would be in medical crisis.

I think about the biography of the early childhood of a holy man, a documentary, I had seen years ago. For accuracy purposes, I will not reveal the name. The relative information of that documentary to this article is that this child’s body’s waste products were considered sacred and they were lovingly taken from him in special bowls, special linens and disposed of with the utmost reverence.

I think about how the interrelationship of nature in our ecological system helps promote a healthy environment for living and breathing.

As my mind journeys with these thoughts I feel myself relaxing; becoming calmer. I think, let this picture be a reminder to not take things so seriously. Let this picture be a reminder to not take things so personally. Let this picture remind me that I do not need to concern myself about what other people think; I am not a mind reader. I do not need to pitch a tent in negativity. Let this picture be a reminder that I am in control of how I want to respond to any given stimulus.

I thank my son for this lesson he has unknowingly dropped in my lap. I know that he loves me. I know that he would not intentionally hurt me. I know we have good communication and if he had known the impact of this image, he would not have sent it. I know that it was harmlessly sent. I know that images of bodily functions, farting, etc. are humorous to many; however, I think it’s mainly a guy thing. I know of a father who has farting contests with his son, much to the chagrin of the mother. Like I said, it’s a guy thing.

I truly see the picture differently; however, I can honestly say, I still don’t like it. Not because of imagined blows to my ego. No. It doesn’t fit my esthetic vision of MySpace. Or maybe it does. It could be a reminder that no matter how harmoniously I might be experiencing my day, a little poop might fall!

However, I will keep this as a reminder to continue to live to the max, laugh, and love.

I have found that writing really helps me to connect with myself. It helps to bring healing to hurtful memories, understanding to present situations, and. it brings clarify to my thoughts.

I give thanks to the Universal One God, who has sustained me through much.

I also give thanks to my writing friends who support me in widening my circle of readers. I have grown within the cocoon of their compassion. I have learned more about courage from them as they have shared from their wounded pasts. I have seen the incredible works they have done to become whole. I have learned we can be broken in many scattered pieces and we can be put back together again. I have not always believed that. I believe there are various paths to achieve this endeavor, this personal journey of striving for wholeness.