About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
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Daily Cascade
Since my old blog "Everyday Canvas " became overfilled, here's a new one. This new blog item will continue answering prompts, the same as the old one.
Cool water cascading to low ground
To spread good will and hope all around.
January 11, 2025 at 11:30am January 11, 2025 at 11:30am
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Prompt:
I realize that my life might not have been exactly the life I thought it was. But isn’t that the way for all of us? How much do we share ― even with our closest loved ones ― and how much did I keep hidden? How much was left unsaid across almost half a century?
What about you, have you ever had these thoughts or similar ones? Will someone wonder what you've left unsaid?
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I really think our lives are our own business. I personally don't hide anything, but I don't volunteer information, either. Even the number one closest loved one need not know everything. I guess I could tell anyone anything, but first, I'll need to consider the burden or amazement or what not that I am loading unto them.
Actually, in hindsight, I am sorrier that I shared or accused or let some people know what was on my mind, in the past. Surely, it made me feel much better for that moment, but mostly, it had consequences. A few of those consequences made me feel rather upset, also, because some people came up with useless advice, others followed up on the subject years later even when I had forgotten about it, and still others either felt sorry for me and/or might have thought, "Well, she didn't handle this right. She might have deserved it!"
Yet, it isn't only their reactions and my being uncomfortable with those, but the long-term effects on the people and on me for having burdened them.
I think, if what is shared is on the heavy side, it hurts the person privy to that knowledge. This is why for the psychotherapists suicide is the highest in comparison to the other medical doctors. They carry the highest emotional load, and only recently, new ways of dealing with others' problems and emotions are being taught to them.
The bottom line in my thinking is, why make others so uncomfortable! Even my sons become uncomfortable when I have to tell them what to do with stuff after my demise. But this, I have to do. It is unavoidable, so I try to fill them in small doses. True, I have a will and some written instructions and I showed them where those documents are. But these are physical things and can be destroyed by a fire or a hurricane. So at least, the very basics, my sons have to know about and hear them directly from me.
So, I guess, we have to tell people what could be important to them eventually, but as far as I am concerned, my own personal life, feelings, and thoughts are my own business, as I said in the beginning.
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