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Unspoken

12 Apr

I’m more prone to talking it out or keeping my mouth shut when I’m angry, and less likely to lash out or act in anger, though that has been known to happen. Generally, though, it’s a fifty-fifty split between talking it through or mulling it over.

A couple weeks ago, I left the room rather than explode. A host of things needed to be said. If they aren’t said, someone will never know what needs to be changed.

On the other hand, if I did speak, I wouldn’t have been heard. I’d have been interrupted, shouted down, accused of being the bad guy. Rather than seeing the need for change, the other person would have tried to turn the mirror around.

That’s something else I know well. There was a time I became rather adept at avoiding the dirty laundry, deafening myself to the words I didn’t want to hear, the truths I didn’t want to see, and turning the mirror back on the people who were trying to shine light.

It’s uncomfortable in its brilliance — we shut our eyes against it — but sunlight is good. It’s nature’s bleach for laundry hung out to dry.

a January afternoon in the park (c2014, KB)

a January afternoon in the park
(c2014, KB)

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Posted by on April 12, 2014 in Family, Journeys, Life, Stories, Uncategorized

 

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