Talking to myself
A couple of days ago I had cause to talk to my Boss about my role.
Talk I did.
In the end, all I felt was empty, denuded of spiritual strength.
"Oh you poor soul!"
Do you ever feel like that? You know, like you're wasting your time? Worse still, whatever point you're trying to make, is lost in the midst of your emotional rawness.
[Note to self: I must remember to sit with the emotional hegemony and not think that anyone wants to hear my musings on the state of the world.]
Seriously, though, it's one of the greatest failings of our age: people not being heard.
Not to turn what I'm saying into another bag of vacuous tricks to be sold to the highest, avaricious bidder but just imagine offering your wisdom in the listening department. No, not that type of if-I-must reframing but because you genuinely, sincerely care about the other person and what they have to say. This means, in very simple terms, hearing the other person into speech — their natural tongue if you will and not a faux diatribe. In that space, there's no agenda, no timeframe, no ulterior approach and nothing to achieve.
But I'm dreaming, right? I mean, you only have to surf the Internet, check out the last interview you watched and everyone (or so it seems to me) has a big f* off agenda. I swear not for effect but instead because I'm irked by the cultural clash between what's being said and what the other person is listening for and they rarely coincide.
In the end, though, and as hackneyed as it is, all we can do is all we can do, and if that means, in my case, I'm to take revenge for my existential angst through my writing, poetry and where I spend my time, then so be it. At least I've an outlet or two. Imagine it otherwise.
Take care dear friends.
If you're able to support my work then I've put up a 'support' page on my main website. Thank you in advance; even a small amount helps me continue to write these blogs and maintain my site.