Metamorphosis of Sorts

Family, friends and relationships; bullying; worker’s rights; the Catholic Church; social justice; learning disabilities, mental illnesses, physical disabilities - and the rights regarding persons afflicted with these; animals and ecology; technology old and new;  education at all levels; children and the elderly.  These are issues, or interests, that within them have the ability to spur me to action in larger or smaller ways.  Being spurred to action in a "larger" way may find me actually rising from the couch and launching myself headlong into a cause, helping in multiple ways.  Spurred to action in a "smaller" way could mean be a small donation to a cause or a phone call or letter to someone I believe could help. 

It takes much courage on my part to speak out on issues of importance, since I may be met with opposition.  You see, I am a “chicken” at heart.  On top of that, I have a strong desire to be liked.  My desire to be liked and my fear of opposition dominated my behaviors for many years.  Even then, I was ashamed of not standing up for my ideals, or a bullied classmate or coworker.  However, the “payoff” for my lack of action was huge.  I was liked and I had many friends.

Over the last several years, I’ve undergone a metamorphosis of sorts.  Former “payoffs” have lessened in value to me, at least in relation to my core beliefs.  Defending persons in vulnerable circumstances, and living up to ideals in which I believe, were desires welling up within me and I felt compelled to move in those directions.  I hoped not to lose friends, or to alienate certain family members, but I knew that might occur.  Ironically, a book given to me by a friend some years back, a “new-age” type book on authentic living, was one of the impetuses of my change.  The book helped to bring about a realization in me that I was not living my “authentic” self.  However, the direction the book suggested I turn to live an authentic life was far from the direction I headed to discover my own authentic life.

So, when I write, I do so with weak knees and a stuttering voice as if speaking before a vast audience.  My fearful side exists still.  Yet, unlike before, when my knees begin to buckle and my voice starts to shake, I keep right on talking (or writing).  If that is the only manner in which I can speak my truths, and live my authentic life, then so be it.