The internet is so funny. It’s just so great that a person can post a series of three perfectly serene photos of beautifully hand dyed scarves and call that post “A little of what I’ve been up to…” and pretend that one’s life really is that simple and gorgeous. Oh, look at me! I just wake up in the morning with a smile on my face, write in my journal over a cup of tea while watching a baby fawn in the sunlight sniff buttercups in my front yard and then I make these lovely scarves.
Ha! And then on Facebook…”Aggghh!! I’m shin-deep in dirty water and my kitchen is flooding and here’s a stream of expletives to prove it!!”
One of the best lessons I learned (but also the hardest to accept) while I was living at a meditation retreat in Vermont ten years ago was this: “No one was there but you.” I have always had a hard time feeling like people can understand me fully if they don’t know everything about me. Explaining what really makes a person is futile though. No one wants to hear it all. If they do, they don’t have time. The way we present ourselves can trip us up if we look like a fawn in a meadow to the outside, but on the inside we’re standing knee deep during a thunderstorm holding a metal pole in the air. Acknowledging the disconnect is one way to deal with it. Accepting that telling one example of how your life is a complete disaster right now is sometimes better than telling ALL the ways.