On being yourself, despite the fear
I have discovered the thing that many societies do not want anyone to know:
yes you can do that thing that you've always wanted to do, and no-one is going to stop you.
Or at least the cost of being stopped (death?) multiplied by its likelyhood is less than the projected mean benefits (like, "not dying from something else"). Most people, especially around here, don't give a shit, and those that do, aren't about to do anything about that.
Being me.
I am not sure who this person is, but it seems that as I immerse myself into an actualizing job, and as I molt the layers of inhibition, I am becoming her, revealing her, donning her armour like a Greek hero. I do not know how I feel about the gods she prays to, let alone the pictures that she draws in public, though I admit that both show a strong aesthetic sense, and an intuition that is keen not just by gift, but practice. Although I am impressed by her, especially by her wlllingness to shrug off misguided expectations, I sometimes find that I do not entirely like this person, most often in the way curt selfish arrogance leaps out of her. I think that I like her occasional deliberate carelessness, but she needs to know how to explain it's pattern and strange underlying maths to other people, 'cause it scares them.
She is much more red than I am now.
(I'm not trying to be cryptic, it's the best I can do)
This is, on the whole, a "(coin word here);" a thing around which to be optimistic.
Although at times, confusing and even mildly terrifying, it is not a bad thing: "a person" not only an arbitrary system boundary, but like a productive forest; neither static nor controllable, nor something best left uncultivated, nor something that must be paved. It is to be gently steered; Dao'd.
And there we are.
yes you can do that thing that you've always wanted to do, and no-one is going to stop you.
Or at least the cost of being stopped (death?) multiplied by its likelyhood is less than the projected mean benefits (like, "not dying from something else"). Most people, especially around here, don't give a shit, and those that do, aren't about to do anything about that.
Being me.
I am not sure who this person is, but it seems that as I immerse myself into an actualizing job, and as I molt the layers of inhibition, I am becoming her, revealing her, donning her armour like a Greek hero. I do not know how I feel about the gods she prays to, let alone the pictures that she draws in public, though I admit that both show a strong aesthetic sense, and an intuition that is keen not just by gift, but practice. Although I am impressed by her, especially by her wlllingness to shrug off misguided expectations, I sometimes find that I do not entirely like this person, most often in the way curt selfish arrogance leaps out of her. I think that I like her occasional deliberate carelessness, but she needs to know how to explain it's pattern and strange underlying maths to other people, 'cause it scares them.
She is much more red than I am now.
(I'm not trying to be cryptic, it's the best I can do)
This is, on the whole, a "(coin word here);" a thing around which to be optimistic.
Although at times, confusing and even mildly terrifying, it is not a bad thing: "a person" not only an arbitrary system boundary, but like a productive forest; neither static nor controllable, nor something best left uncultivated, nor something that must be paved. It is to be gently steered; Dao'd.
And there we are.