Not everything can be or wants to be spoken out loud. There is a kind of grace in keeping quiet, in not requiring that every last detail be shared and heard, in order to have it be made real. Translation is the place where a great deal can be lost, that space between experience and opening the mouth. So silence can be a kind of wholeness.
But. And. It is also true that there are sometimes, for me, too many accumulated silent things. And it’s time to speak.
"things to speak"
- how i really feel. what i really think. what i really want, and need, and know. no fancy words needed for shelter, or diversion. this is not poetry. this is not a story, that asks for a certain ending. just the plain but true words, the elemental, which are so often the hardest somehow, and the space to say them without second guessing the moment they come out.
- "because i want to."
- "because i don’t want to."
- but it did happen.
- i think what you are doing is full of shit. and i think you know that.
- leave miley cyrus (or whomever the girl of the moment is, who is doing what men do but somehow she is getting all the flack /outrage/concern for it) alone.
- if i am sick and dying, this is what i would i would like.
- "i love you."
- just this week, i was eating pineapple. it was cold, and i cut into it, and started slicing. and i stood there, over the counter, knife in hand, juice on the counter, and i ate the entire pineapple, bite after bite, the way something familiar suddenly tastes like the best thing you’ve ever had or known. and that moment, that was my true answer, if you were to ask me, “how are you?” or “how was your day?” i ate an entire pineapple. but how could i explain how whole and complete that moment was, how ordinary and lovely? is that why the answer comes out, “fine. i am fine. how are you?”
- "ouch. that hurts."
- my own definitions for things. it is a tricky thing, how another person is talking, and then they are telling me who i am by the words they use, telling me “the way it is”, as if there is one universally held agreement for such things, meaning the one they see and choose. it happens so quickly. and it is like short term memory loss, a fog of confusion. and so i have been finding ways of noticing when it is happening, so i can find my way back inside myself. so i can name my own animals.
- "i don't like that. "
- "i like that so much it makes me feel like the ice cream truck just got a flat tire and the ice cream truck guy said he has to get rid of all the ice cream and popsicles so we should all just stand there and eat as much as we want."
- i have always wanted . . .
- forget why me. “why not me?” there isn’t a fairness test here, with the “bad” stuff happening to the “bad” people. there is a lot that has happened in my life that stunned me into silence. that has hurt, the kind of hurt that makes it feel like surely feelings are able to cause internal bleeding, and on the outside i will look fine and no one will know i am going crazy. but that doesn’t make me special, or singled out as chosen or cursed. why not me? there is life. and terrible things happen. and i am here.
- there are moments, when i look up, and see you, but before you see me seeing you. and i think, "you are my favorite face in this whole world."
- "i’m coming over."
- what if this is what really happened?
- there are a lot, and by a lot i mean millions, of people living in poverty, in my own country. people who don’t have enough money to live. it is stressful having to decide if you should pay rent or buy food and toilet paper and gas to get to work. many (perhaps most) of the people who write about and discuss poverty are not poor and have never had to make these kinds of very real day in and day out decisions. i remember what it was like, and i find the rhetoric to be insulting, at best. people living in poverty do not need better positive thinking skills, or the laws of attraction, or seminars on manifesting wealth.
- "i was wrong."
- so what? what is the sin in sometimes just being wrong? what happened, that we became so afraid that we think we have to know everything, all the time, and can never change.
- lot’s of people are busy telling women how they “should” feel about themselves. they “should” lose weight, or get surgery, or have better skin, or spend a lot of money on products to make them pretty. or they "should" recognize the scam it all is and should refuse to participate. or they "should" love themselves, tell themselves how fabulous they are every time they look in the mirror no matter how they feel, accept themselves for their inner beauty. why is no one asking women what it is they want? why is no one is asking the question, "why do women need to be told what they should and should not do/think/feel/believe at all?" what if women were just allowed to do what they want, be what they want, speak what they want, and be left alone?
- "shut up and kiss me."
- life is beautiful. horrible, horrible things happen. but then it is beautiful. and that is hard to say for me, harder than the horrible. because if i do, then i might hurt if and when i lose some of the parts that make it so. but to not speak. it is to pretend that life is only something to suffer through. but it’s not. it is beautiful. it is horrible. and horribly beautiful. it is everything.