Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Digging In

Plotting starts with determining the lie the character believes, and why. We all have those moments in our past that shape us, usually without our realizing it. You can tell because when you brush against their memories, they ache all over again. And if you try to say the words out loud to someone else, all that hurt/pain/shame wells up as fresh as a steaming pile of vomit.

I've recognized some of these in my life. Being told as a little girl I was too sensitive. being told on the playground I was so ugly.  And I've taken these out, handled them, and seen them for what they were. Flimsy tissue paper untruths. They don't hold up.

But what about the ones I've told myself? Told myself I'm ugly so I won't get arrogant. Told myself not only my true value, but my perceived worth by others, is dependent and inversely proportional on those five pounds I gained.  Told myself that if I were ever going to succeed it would have happened by now, and that in ten/twenty/thirty years I'm going to be that joke who never gave up on a dream that was out of reach. We talk about never giving up like its a good thing, but we only mean it if you someday reach your goal.

As deeply wounding and breaking as the lies others have told me can be, the lies in my own voice are so much worse. The willful ones, like believe you're ugly or you'll be vain, are based on deeper lies. Like you're fundamentally a bad person. You need shame to keep you from being an even worse person. If you acknowledge good in yourself, you'll lose perspective.

What bullshit.

Your worth is based on a handful of pounds. Anyone else CARES that you gain or lose a handful of pounds.  I don't care when other people do, but they're all more shallow than I am. I bring less to the table than anyone else, so these tiny flaws are all it will take to send others in search of better comrades.

So dumb, when I just look at it.  I'm not that much deeper than others, and I'm not that much less worthwhile than others.

It seems deep down I have trouble with properly valuing things.  Let's hope I never hold a garage sale.

But, looking at these, digging up the bullshit, tilling it, and then planting seeds of truth will lead to better things. Flowers that smell lovely. I'm not sure that analogy holds up, but you get what I'm trying to say. There's no way to ignore the lies into obsolescence.  They're there. They must be faced.

But they can be faced, and that's the hopeful part.  They can be pulled out and looked at. It's scary, and not something I'd look forward to like a trip to Cancun, but it can be done. And most of these when they face the cleansing waters of truth, are tissue paper lies. They dissolve a lot more easily than I expected after carrying them for so long.

Thank you, God, that the truth will set me free. Us free. Shower me with truth and give me the courage to examine the things I've let be truth for so long. Thank you for flowers and for this whole world, a giant analogy of your love and of hope. Let me be present today and see it.

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