I saw this quote yesterday. I saw it and thought about all of the instances in which I have deleted or thrown away something I have written as a means to protect. I mulled over all of the times that I have muted myself or allowed others to censor me so that they could burrow and hide. Changing the phrasing...changing word choice...changing the tone...changing the names of people and places was not enough. They were discomforted. And I did not want to offend.
But this quote allowed me to ask myself...rather than who am I protecting, what am I am protecting? Why am I abetting, fearing the grime and grit? We isolate and negate our own experiences for the benefit of ego and image yet to the detriment of our own spirit. I perceive that this kind silence blasphemes against our Highest Good. I've learned that fallibility is not damning, hubris is.
Why do we give shelter to destructive behavior...whether our own, someone else's or even generational and communal patterns? I believe the greater question may be...why are we afraid to speak the truth? Why are we afraid of our own voice?
They could have behaved better but they made the conscious choice not to do so. I recognize that I have often been culpable of the same. In the way of a newly initiated Ancestor, Maya Angelou, my goal is not perfect living but rather honest living. My song is mine to sing, not yours to cage. And well, my hands were made for writing...
Ase`
But this quote allowed me to ask myself...rather than who am I protecting, what am I am protecting? Why am I abetting, fearing the grime and grit? We isolate and negate our own experiences for the benefit of ego and image yet to the detriment of our own spirit. I perceive that this kind silence blasphemes against our Highest Good. I've learned that fallibility is not damning, hubris is.
Why do we give shelter to destructive behavior...whether our own, someone else's or even generational and communal patterns? I believe the greater question may be...why are we afraid to speak the truth? Why are we afraid of our own voice?
They could have behaved better but they made the conscious choice not to do so. I recognize that I have often been culpable of the same. In the way of a newly initiated Ancestor, Maya Angelou, my goal is not perfect living but rather honest living. My song is mine to sing, not yours to cage. And well, my hands were made for writing...
Ase`
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