On those rare occasions when the barriers are down and it feels okay to move beyond what is normally said, then it suddenly emerges that we’re all just working with half versions of the truth; and, most of the time, we’re making up what goes in the gaps.
And, when we pause, unexpectedly, to find out whether what we’re thinking they’re thinking, is even close to what’s really going through their minds; and find ourselves, so often, on entirely different pages, then it’s immediately clear that we’re all just trying to make sense of a fragmented assortment of feelings and experiences and thoughts, reflected and refracted in a thousand different ways –
That one word, misheard, can lead to years of heartache; and an action, derived from love, can sometimes cause pain.
That obvious to and oblivious to aren’t that far apart; and, shared visions don’t always look the same.
That the subtle intonations and inflections in what we say are subject to interpretations that we can’t even imagine and we might not ever know, if we don’t stop to ask –
What do you think? – and how are you feeling? – and what does that mean to you?
And so, on those rare occasions when the barriers are down and we’ve moved beyond what is normally said, then, with the sudden clarity of sunlight, we can start to understand the behaviours and actions that we’ve only been able to guess at (like the silences I’d taken for dislike and the looks you’d assumed were anger).
And, if we’re brave enough – when the barriers are down – to articulate the thoughts, and feelings, and assumptions that normally remain behind closed doors and carefully regulated mouths, then it starts to become clear that no two versions of the story are the same (like the holiday marking my descent into illness and your epitome of childhood freedom) –
And, no two interpretations of an experience are identical (like the loneliness I felt in contrast to the popularity you perceived) –
And that the margin for error and misunderstanding is terrifyingly wide (like the time you thought I was trying to hurt you, when actually it was about hurting me) –
Which we’d never realise, if we didn’t stop to ask –
and we weren’t prepared to talk –
or we had forgotten that, really, we’re all just working with half versions of the truth, and trying to make sense of a fragmented assortment of feelings and experiences and thoughts, reflected and refracted in a thousand different ways –
Tags: self discovery, talking, the human head, the philosophical bit
