July 18th writing
“You’re one of the most creative people I know,” Sarah said. She looked up, and then looked down, absorbing what Sarah had said. The statement didn’t feel right to her; it put her at ill eases it . She felt the need to fidget and forced her breathing, trying to process something Sarah’s statement. The act of engaging a comment like that, that was so communicative to her core, and so alien to her concept of herself, was a test of fitness. Of mind? Of emotion? But, still, she forced herself to contemplate it. She said she would, and she couldn’t ignore a promise she made to herself that was so necessary to the process of learning about herself. She would be reneging on the commitment she made to herself. What others saw her as could easily be at extreme contrast to what she thought of herself, but she had to give those perspective some room to exist and and have space. She didn’t have to accept them, but she owed them (and herself) the space for them to sit and be considered and space to just exist without judgment. After all, who actually has a better (“better” to mean “more accurate,” those “more accurate to mean.. what?”) concept of who a person is? That person or others? Or is that job equally spread out between all parties?
Breathy deeply, and measure, into the depths of her diaphragm (?) she said “thank you,” and tried to produce a positive smile. How invested should a person actually be in wanting to have the monopoly of knowing themselves, she wondered? And why was she so quick to dismiss others’ perspectives? Well, they could be lying, she thought. Though then the question of their motive, or what they would have to gain, to lie would be. She also needed to acknowledge the obvious fact that she is more likely to dismiss those opinions that were of a positive nature, but accept those that were negative. If that is true what she did (which seems obviously yes) then that would have to be unpacked-a negative opinion should not be more valid than a positive one, unless there is a real reason to believe the truth of the statement.
She signed and looked down at her bagel-it looked dry and unappetizing-and ran her finger along the cool edge of the ceramic saucer that cradled her tea. “I _do_ really enjoy creative endeavours,” she responded, which felt like an empty response, but took a large effort to produce.
What was she supposed to do with that comment anyway?