I’m in serious danger of becoming a complete hypocrite.
I talk and write quite a bit about the value of honesty and courage. I blather on about how important it is to face things like Scarlett O’Hara always used to–with shoulders square and strong, chin held high, jaw set and ready to take a punch. And it’s a system of survival that I learned over time. It’s not one that just came easily or wrapped in a lovely box & bow. No. I think it’s fair to say I picked it up over many years of observing human behavior and developing my very stubborn opinions about same. And it has–for the last 25 years or so–made complete practical sense, even when it’s been hard to actually apply to my own life.
I’ve thought, if things are hard, just get them finished. If relationships are tenuous, just smile and be as polite and honest as you physically can. If you have something uncomfortable to say, take a breath and make sure you mean it, then try to say it with your inside voice. But say it. “Sooner started, sooner done,” I’ve proselytized. “Be cordial, but above all else be honest!”
It always seemed like such smart advice. It seemed so true, even when I labored under my own good intentions.
But we all know it’s never as simple in practice as it is in theory.
And now I’m in a situation. I’m facing a thing that is riddled with unknowns and is hard and profoundly annoying. And I do not want to talk about it. Can you believe that? Something I’m not willing to talk about! I don’t even want to write about it.
This is my hypocrisy. I have a thought that I should be brave and open. I should be a leader. I should let my Leo out. I know better than many that hiding things doesn’t make them go away. So…walk the walk if I’m going to talk the talk, right?
But I have another thought. It swirls around decorum and privacy and not being a burden. Not wanting to bother people. ‘Cause, really, outside of husband & family…who’s really going to care? And why should they? Everyone has challenges. Everyone has surprises. I’m absolutely no different.
But, we also know Scarlett’s tough little chin caused her a lot of grief. Sometimes she set that jaw so hard she couldn’t open it to speak. And look where it got her.
So, I’m currently at a loss. I may feel better when I know a little more about what exactly I’m up against. And when that happens, maybe I’ll turn my tail and run. Or maybe I’ll take my own advice and find a way to be honest and brave.
I don’t know. I’m trying to channel that inner Leo but kitty seems to be hiding under the bed. Which is ironic, because a month ago I wouldn’t have thought kitty could fit. But…I guess everyone–astrological felines or otherwise–needs some time to consider their options.