My last entry made mention to listening. And when I wrote it, I was so tired from all of the listening I did that I couldn’t find the energy, space, time, and words to write what I found. I could barely speak out loud. I found my voice was muted and there was mucus in my throat. I called this an “allergy” attack. In fact, in my head, there was voice, that kept telling me I had lost my voice. Something was telling me to stop talking and just listen…..
I listened…. and I heard….
A lot of people were saying the same things. Everyone was tuned into a frequency, the same one, and I was picking up on it. The people that I was talking to, and I use the word talking very loosely because it seems like the majority of my talking is done through reading these days. I read status updates, tweets, texts, blogs, and articles… people writing their thoughts through illuminated screens reaching out to the masses we call “friends” and “followers”… once real-life friends and acquaintances… some we have never met at all….
I have been hearing from people I haven’t spoken to in a long time… thank you for talking back me. I am glad we are connected.
I heard something that was painful to hear… “Two weeks until a biopsy”, from an old friend… and I want to know more about what she is going through, so I will take the time to talk to her. I am anxious for her.
Someone else was waiting in an emergency room…. someone I went to high school with and do not talk to anymore… but I asked if she was okay… she was, fine and was with waiting with a friend, who probably wasn’t fine, but she thanked me for asking. Thank you Facebook for your updates…
I also heard my father. Though, he could not hear me. I called him to share something I had “found”. His hearing is going and the conversation was really frustrating. I wanted to share something with him… nothing that important… just something… and he couldn’t hear me over the phone. I told him he needed a hearing aid… he laughed… and I asked him how he converses with people throughout the day if he can’t hear. His response was, “I go to my boat. I’m quiet there.” There was such loneliness in that statement and even as I write this right now my eyes are swelling up with tears. He kept asking me what I wanted. I didn’t want anything but to share something that had come up in my life and because he couldn’t hear me, he couldn’t understand what I was saying, and he couldn’t comprehend the simple statements I made. This made my sharing one sided and instead of being able to bring him into my world of revelation, he brought me into his world of disconnect. He is in Chicago, and has been for a year now… I miss being able to have a face to face with him. He reminded me of my need to reconnect.
And, again, I was reminded of how deeply I miss a particular someone in my life. I miss being able to share moments of frustration and revelation with that person because he always listened to me. I tend to ramble- my thoughts are not always cohesive- I live simply in a world of chaos and I struggle with the space and time within my days.
I write to keep some sanity in my life. To get it out, put it on “paper” so that I can remember it, share it, and revisit it. And as I reread my thoughts, I see how hard it must be to keep up with me daily. I appreciate those who take the time to listen to me… my ranting, raving, revealing riddles…. Thank you.