First, go over here and read that post… then come back here and let me talk at you… that royal you, that invisible you… that you that is really me.
True Things. What a nice way to put them. I haven’t had a name for those things of which Leah speaks, but I know deeply and fervently that they exist.
My True Things
- I am incredibly flexible due to an extra bone in my spine. The bone is half sacral and half lumbar, I joke that it has a split personality. I say that in part because I think good things come out of everything. Because of this bone, I will probably always be able to touch my toes and put my hands flat on the ground while my legs remain stick straight. Some may call it a mutation, or even a throw-back to arboreal apes. I would call it an advance. It has come in terribly handy. This is vain and superficial, but I am fond of this extra little bone in my back.
- Walking. When I was living in South America on my own, with so many reminders of family but without them there… and the world became dark because I was not near them, I took to walking. A lot. I also took to letter writing but only to my mother. I still walk. It still helps beat the dark giants that attack.
- I accept that this darkness (the dark giants I refer to above) happens to everyone. While I have had people disagree with me, that insist that there are people out there who do not know or have never been intimate with darkness… I believe this to be wrong. I think we all go through it, through bouts, of varying severity and that it is a part of being human and makes me like the vain metero-sexual sitting next to me at an event because I realize that is only a shield they might need. I find peace in this, not that everyone has dark moments.
- Orange. When I was younger and pressed to disclose my favorite color I really couldn’t pick one. So, I asked my classmates what color they hated most. All of them replied that they hated orange. So, I picked it and have loyally stuck by it without regrets. It brings me great joy now to claim it as my favorite and can feel like I forge an instant bond with others who lay claim to a love of orange.
- I love making up nicknames and songs. I am happiest when this comes about. If you have a nickname or if I have sung you a song, I deeply love you. Unless your nickname is bitch or asshole, then you are doing something that is teaching me a lesson… and I love you, but I am probably not happy.
- I am trying to embrace vulnerability.. It has been the toughest path to embark on… so many people will seem to throw you to the wolves, call you a bitch, or even belittle you as a means to force you to deal with your own insecurities in a long list of ways people manage to toss out things towards others. I have often confused vulnerability with responsibility, in that being vulnerable is the antithesis of being responsible. I was born with an ability to handle things well, things that involved a great deal of responsibility. My mother had me be in charge of carrying plane tickets from a young age. I am sure that part of this was to give me something to keep me busy, but you would all be surprised how much that particular responsibility carries (especially when you are 5).
- Silence. I deeply love silence. The kind of silence where nothing is heard but it is unbelievably loud. It is a a sacred moment for me when I can hear it that well.
- I love. There are only a few people with whom I struggle on this one with. But, I love.
- My family, both genetic and lovingly acquired, are deeply, fiercely, majestically important to me.
|© Cheska Cacnio|
Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul – and sings the tunes without the words – and never stops at all. ~ Emily Dickinson