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a passionate repentance



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may God stand
There are these questions I have. And they keep coming back.

There seems to be a difference between how we see ourselves and how others see us. For instance, there is one person I know who views herself as a rock of calm, when to me she is as nervous and as delicate as a Thoroughbred.

I think of myself as being a curious and intelligent person..not stupid, but not brilliant either. And yet there are so many people around me who know so much more than I do. How do I appear to them?

What is the truth?

Is it what I believe myself to be? What others believe me to be? Is it somewhere between the two? When did it become necessary to have one's own personal mythology?

And have I any right to point out someone else's mythos when I'm not even fully aware of the extent of my own self delusion?

Or is all of this a sort of mental masturbation which should cease, so I can go and wash my hands and engage in constructive activity? Is there such a thing as truth? How do you know when you've found it? Is it constant? Or does it constantly change?

And why do we seem to need to ask the same damn questions, every one of us all the way down through time?
Hasn't someone found the answer?
  • I am a sponge of calme. Or is that a quivering leaf of calm?

    I'm back now, by the way. We planted trees. LOTS of trees. two maples (one of them is .. tall. just bloody tall. We had to haul it out of the woodlot with the truck), and a little pine. And I planted tomatoes. a stripey tomato! And some basil and oregano. Smells divine! Now where is my cabana boy, sunhat and endless iced tea?

    I'm going to go quiver now.
  • I think all of us spend most of our lives washed in some degree of obliviousness. At least, I don't know anyone who has the same opinion of themselves that I do, and no one seems to have the same opinion of me that I do either.

    Am I just a bad judge of character in general? Will have to think about that.

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