Charade Parade

Its been a while, I know. But I allow myself the luxury sometimes, of slipping into mindless emptiness or self preservation without splashing my feelings all over the Internet and the phone, of drifting away into a land where there's just me. We all should. Its liberating, (to say the least) to live within the walls of your own confinement, free from boundaries yet bound by your solitude. Its therapeutic too, a complete detoxification of all thoughts and feelings re-lived and rekindled, a dialysis of thoughts where I think the things I put away and don't think about, confront fears I assume wont happen to me, refresh my present and envisage my future and in short, just re-know me.

Its been a rough couple weeks. A pattern, as always, a domino effect of things just all coming together at once which sets me back a little bit, overwhelmed with the magnitude, awed by the challenges to be overcome. It always comes together, all at once. If only I carefully heeded M. Scott Pecks advice - 'Life is supposed to be hard', he says, 'I don't know why people assume it isnt!'

A bit of growing up has been accomplished in the past few weeks. Some startling conversations with a few loved ones set me back emotionally considerably, while at the same time, the magnitude of respect I have in me, for those individuals, multiplying manifold.

Nothing is as it seems. Life is led with a hidden interconnected web of underlying relationships, moments, tangential emotions and most of all, superficial masks, Underneath which lies the real deal, the whole enchilada. Some people, such as I, wear their hearts on their sleeves. For such people, masks are the equivalent of nothingness. Every emotion and agenda displayed clearly on body language and faces. Life is clearly demarcated into crests and troughs, all dealt with at an unsteady pace, but for all to know.

Most people wear masks, projecting selective profiling information that would lead you to believe exactly what they want you to believe. A happy marriage, or an enviable relationship perhaps? Both can be had by clever manipulation of stories and fancy adjectives by the willing and the capable. The real story could be the converse of what you are given to believe. More often than not, this manipulation is often for themselves, rather than a third person. They want to believe he loves them, or that they have a happy marriage, or that they have a great job and hence project only information that portrays the same. While this could be a great way of self motivation and positive therapy (You cant run away from all your problems, or cut off people at the drop of a hat), this could lead to serious repercussions. This person could live in his or her fantasy, convinced the play he or shes leading is, in fact the reality of his or her life. Any person who would speak otherwise or see the truth in another light, would then, naturally be deemed to be lying, or wrong, or hurtful.

There's another kind too, The kind who are not riddled by disillusion, well aware of the inconsistencies of their life, who lead it with quiet dignity and contained anguish. I recently discovered someone whose so so close to me leading a life I never imagined her to, and taken aback by her strength, perseverance and grit. She overcame her weakness, confronted her vulnerabilities and is moving on with her life with the gusto of a naive young untainted child. She inspires me, and that conversation with her changed a part of me, forever. Never give of yourself completely to anyone, she said, holding my hand in hers, shaking from grit and silent despair. I wont I promised her, and I know Ill have to do so. I will.

We've all heard about the story of the Jackal (or was it the wolf) and sour grapes. It applies to us more than we think. Most often the things we joke about or claim we don't want, are in fact, the few things that we want the MOST. We're just not ready to accept it. I find however, that the minute I say 'I want something' its easier for me to work towards it rather than going in the converse direction. After all, We are not what Life makes of us, life is what WE make of it.