An Essay A Day For A Year
By Roe
Day 60, February 29, 2012
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When I grow up I would like to be all grown up, yet when I am all grown up I still want to be little too. Now that I’m heading for my 49th birthday, I’m pretty sure that my body is finished with its growing, and I’ve noticed that I’m now shrinking and decaying rather than blooming. Now that I’m supposedly all grown up, I’m amazed at how immature many parts of me are. It looks like now that I’m all grown up, I’m not as grown up as I remember wanting to be. When I was a little boy I dreamed of having grace, and depth, and poise. Those were not my little boy words, but those are the words that went with the feeling of wanting to be a gentle man. I was introduced to plenty of supposed gentlemen as a little boy, but not one of them was gentle. When I would looked into their eyes I saw little boys inside that had not grown up all the way, I saw longing and sadness and angst and anger and fear and unfulfilled needs and aggressive libido. Those were not the words that went with the feeling at the time, what I remember was seeing and feeling “ichy” and “ouchy”.
Due to many years of therapy and growth of my own, now these feelings are coming conscious again, and when I look into my eyes in the mirror I see a child that has not grown up all the way. I see longing and sadness and angst and anger and fear, and unfulfilled needs and aggressive libido. I look into my own eyes and I see ichy and ouchy. I am so disappointed. I guess there is a lot more to being a gentle man then being a societal gentleman. Now there is a word to describe the fake behavioral results of the me that is hiding other issues and motives: I have become politically correct. I have become societally correct. I have become maritally correct. I have become parentally correct. I have become sexually correct. I suppose that it is bad enough to present a façade of a truth to others with a hidden feeling and reality, but it is catastrophic to present a façade of truth to self with a hidden feeling and reality, and not be aware of it. Most of my life I have been navigating without a compass.
Recently it occurred to me that that the feelings and reactions I see in others of my actions and behaviors is a kind of compass for me as a blind traveler. Mirroring myself in others lets me see things in myself that I am blind to see on my own. The risk is I suppose is that others are somewhat blind too, and are navigating with questionable compasses too, and the combination of a clowny kook mirrored by a clowny kook is clowny kooky indeed. It’s funny how people act like they are the only smart ones, they are the only ones who can get away with bullshit, or the only ones who can see the bullshit. It’s funny how I act like I am the only smart one, the only one who can get away with bullshit, or the only one who can see the bullshit. It seems like any kind of fake correctness is bullshit, and the receiver of the bullshit has a bullshit meter too, and is seeing and feeling the bullshit clearly, no less than I do when I look at it or it lands on me. In politics and society, in marriage and parenting, and especially regarding my sexuality, everyone I interact with sees the truth in my eyes and in my behavior, except me, and ironically the same works in reverse.
Are my political words really correct when I radiate secret hatred for all to see? Am I really societally correct when I hide my lack of society in my deviant behaviors that everyone can see but me? Am I really maritally correct with my secret, betraying thoughts and ideas that my spouse can see written on my forehead? Am I really parentally correct displaying my fake chivalry to my son as I pretend not to notice the sexual perfection of my 16 year old daughter, while they and everyone but me can palpably feel my perversion? Am I really sexually correct when my kind face and words are on a young woman, while my eyes are on her breasts and she can feel my impulse to grab her between the legs? So much for being a gentle man.
I still long to be all grown up as a gentle man, with all my feelings and behaviors honestly and transparently correct. I also want to remain little too. I don’t want to be stuck in immaturity and lack of growth, acting like I’m little out of sadness and angst and anger and fear and unfulfilled needs and aggressive libido. I want to feel little as if I am happy like a happy child, feeling peace instead of anger and anxiety like a happy child, I want to feel little with my needs fulfilled like a happy child, and I dream of my libido being loving and balanced from having been a happy child. To do this I need to grow up before I can appreciate my true and pure littleness. How can I grow up when I am blind and correct and full of bullshit, and a fake man who is not gentle?
For that I need me, and I need you. And for that you need you, and you need me. You and me are mirrors of each other and mutual co habiters of our Earth. We need to realize that we all have problems and issues that are not so different, and we need to all realize that not much of us is correct. We are all stunted little ones, wanting to be big and gentle, and trying so hard to grow up. And once all grown up, we will be able to remember being little ones and all the joys of true and pure correctness. To grow up I need to be as real and true and honest and transparent about myself and my feelings and behaviors as I can. I am not a gentle man and it is not my fault, I did not put that on my order form when I was born. My lack of gentle-man-liness is a result of what happened to me, and I can’t fix the problems if I can’t see them or feel them since I’m running around all correctly all the time bullshitting you, and getting the same from you.
So I am an ordinary man and I feel sadness and longing and angst and anger and hate and fear and unfulfilled needs, and a lot of aggressive libido. My eyes tell the truth of me, and if you can’t see it in my eyes then you have the same issues as me. I want my actions and behaviors to reflect my truth as much as possible, and whenever and wherever possible, and I welcome you being my mirror and bullshit meter to tell me and behave your same truth. I can’t promise that it is going to be pretty or easy, but I promise that we will feel real, and we will feel our faults and whatever humanity we have or don’t have. Then we can grow up together the right way and the real way. We can cry and scream and grieve our injured little ones together, and some day grow all the way up to feel purely and correctly and lovingly little.
Some day we can be a gentle man and a gentle woman, with gentle eyes. Some day together we can have grace, and depth, and poise. Some day we can both look at each other and tell each other that we are both full of bullshit. Then we can laugh and cry and hug. Some day we can be all grown up, and still feel little.
See you tomorrow.
yourpersonalmuse@gmx.com
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