Me: People tell me I'm brave. But I don't really know any other way to be than to keep it real. I don't know how others do it. I lack that skill. I'm just me. I guess it must be brave to be me in this world.
Coworker: Yeah. (said very matter of fact)
I used to be more brave, you know? I used to blog & keep in touch with myself. I used to be more open. & I had no idea how unusual that was, even though people tried to point it out to me.
Now I find it hard. Blogging, that is. Talking about myself. Exploring what I am really feeling.
& I tend to notice those who are braver than me.
I still feel I owe my life to a friend of mine, who is much more brave than I will ever be. A friend who is brave enough to really & truly be who he is.
But I suppose I don't really believe comparison is to the point. I see now how what I do could be interpreted as brave. But I am in the habit of following my instincts, it's something I am comfortable doing, it is something that has made my life fulfilling & led to all of the good things in my life. It has brought me pain too, but one cannot avoid pain very effectively no matter the methods.
I've been remembering love lately. The ways in which it makes life worthwhile. The mystery it brings. The curiosity it opens within me.
I feel myself changing. Who knows, I may return to a braver self.
