why didn’t you tell me before?

those are powerful words.

on one side, it is a sign of something held back. maybe it was something considered so minor, it didn’t have to be brought up. perhaps it was fear, that if you really knew how i felt, you’d think less of me or even reject me.

on the other hand, there is the courage of breaking through those barriers. perhaps, the barrier is this is significant enough to bring this forward or maybe it’s overcoming the fear of being thought less of for what has been held back for far to long.

that act of sharing is a courageous act, being vulnerable, exposing a little more who that person really is. sure, the person asking the question likely has every right to be asking that question. the problem is, in asking the question, they have not only overlooked the gift they have just received, they have also totally disrespected the vulnerable person fighting through their desire not to share.

by asking the question, the question asker expresses their distain that it took so long to get this bit of information, overlooking the courageous act. the person hearing this question is made to feel wrong for their inability to share before. they feel shame.

when the person receiving the bit of information can see it as a gift, they can be joyous of their new discovery. the person sharing gets treated with the utmost respect. they feel safe. that makes it all the easier for them to share the next time.

the choice is yours: distain and shame or gift and respect. given the choice, i’d eliminate that damaging statement from my mind. i hope you can do the same.

flatlanders

in medieval time, there were a group of people called flatlanders. they knew their land, the road to the nearby town or village and the town or village. They didn’t wander far from their world. maybe they knew what they knew and that felt safe. or maybe they feared if they went to far, they’d fall off the edge of the earth. what did they miss by staying safe or by living in fear? what great thing did they miss by not venturing over the next rise? the great explorers knew like pollo, columbus or vespucci. their courage open them up to new spices and whole new worlds.

unfortunately, in today’s seemingly unbounded world, flatlanders still exist.

maybe today’s flatlanders feel safe. they know the world around them and they are comfortable with that world. that world doesn’t give them the necessary sustenance yet it still feels safe. they are hungry. they know of a need to venture out, maybe not to the far east, but at least beyond their comfort zone. they cannot reason to wander beyond the world they know. their safety holds them back.

Maybe today’s flatlanders fear wandering too far, not only afraid of what is beyond the next rise but also falling off their proverbial edge of their world. their fear is like a prison, keeping them caged from what lays just beyond their reach. that fear holds them back and impedes their progress. their fear stands in the way of not only searching for _the_ new world but their new world.

or maybe like me, it’s a combination of safety and fear. Is the safety really safe? Is the fear truly justified? What is lost by living in a seemingly safe and fear free place?

where is the root of courage that lets today’s flatlanders take a step beyond their comfort zone? sure it can be scary but isn’t the discoveries of new spices and new continents worth it?

unhappy with the world i live in, i wonder if that courage exists to challenge my safe world and beat back my fear. i tire of my flatland and wish and hope to find the boldness to not only hold onto my current world i know and have but to also venture out. there is so much more beyond what the eyes can see. i just want to find a way to see it.

a quote from carrie fisher

“at times, being bipolar can be an all-consuming challenge, requiring a lot of stamina and even more courage, so if you’re living with this illness and functioning at all, it’s something to be proud of, not ashamed of.”― carrie fisher, wishful drinking

debbie reynolds and carrie fisher