Censhorship as Sustenance (eating my words)

I haven't had much to say in this space for the past week or so. I got tired of hearing my own negativity reflected back at me, and I've been quite busy running around with new people, which is more cheering than grumbling to the anonymous expanses of the 'net. More exhausting, too, but I'm still having trouble sleeping. I think the solution is to work some physical exertion into my daily schedule. There's a free "workout center" at my apartment complex, but I'm really, really not comfortable in the gym atmosphere. But it's bad weather for outdoor pursuits.

See? Four sentences in, and it's already whine, bitch, moan. *scowls* Too bad I can't scold myself into cheering the hell up, because I'm pretty good at scolding.

I've spent a good chunk of my afternoon considering whether or not to post a response on a friend's blog to someone who some might call a troll, though from what I can see he's just opinionated and a little more forceful than I consider polite. Of course, so am I, so it would be pretty ridiculous to ignore him on that ground alone. By the same token, I have to ask myself if even the most reasoned, compassionate response is will be taken as anything beyond disagreement and an invitation to criticize my perspective.

I find that anything I can say about what I don't like about this guy's style applies equally to my own. Pedantic, forceful, argumentative and sometimes a little lacking in perspective. It's more convicting than humbling, which is nice; I'm thinking about how I can communicate myself more gently, evoke understanding rather than discord, instead of just beating myself up.

I've been a regular member of a student group this semester (shocking!), and I often leave the meetings thinking about how I could have been gentler and more concise. I won't give the name (I don't want any google hits off this one) but in their own words they are: "a group for free thought, geared towards discussing secular world views, challenging conceptions, promoting tolerance, encouraging skepticism, and fostering a better general understanding of secular philosophy and the sciences." Nice. The meetings are mostly filled with traditional undergrads, so I sometimes feel like a bit of an old woman, but that's sometimes a good feeling. I can hold my tongue while the kids talk through their ideas, step in with a firm word when I see someone getting verbally trounced for no good reason, and generally be something more of a leader than a follower. I haven't felt that way in a while, and it's a good feeling. I have to balance it with awareness of my own fallibility and a healthy does of emotional detachment, while not forgetting my compassion; healthy exercises all. (And it doesn't hurt that the person there who most exemplifies these traits himself is attractive, single, and blushes every time we make eye contact. More on that if and as it develops.)

And as I was reading through that considering how to wrap up, Pandora played something new that caught my ear and is surprisingly on topic. In closing, a bit from "Little Bird" by The Weepies:

"Sometimes it's hard to say even one thing true
When all eyes have turned aside
They used to talk to you
And people on the street seem to disapprove
So you keep moving away
And forget what you wanted to say

Little bird, little bird
Brush your gray wings on my head
Say what you said, say it again
They tell me I'm crazy

But you told me I'm golden"