It’s not often we are driven to express our thoughts and feelings in their purest form.
By nature, we tend to take pause, analyze, assess the risk, to carefully massage our words so as not to offend. You’re far less likely to step on toes if you tiptoe, after all.
Rarely is conversation approached with the refreshing clarity which it demands.
I’ve spent the greater part of my life finding comfort in the art of writing, and more recently, painting narratives through the lens of photography. Even these expressions are not without reservation—words can be edited; photos, retouched.
Self-reflection is a funny thing. We do as we observe others doing the same. And yet we know, deep down, that there’s a better way. Hurt feelings can be mended, bruised egos healed with time. There is no substitute for pure, unadulterated honesty.
And still we continue to dance around it for fear of alienating those closest to us, desperately seeking to maintain the faux impression we’ve worked so hard to cultivate.
One day, the façade will crumble. The transparency will come.
Til then, the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
Published: October 10, 2019