Communicator

I spend a good part of my days trying to conceptualize who I am. It’s because I feel so confused. Seems there’s a large part of me that can’t comprehend the complexities of others. Therefore, by conclusion, I find I do not understand myself.

“Everyone hears only what he understands.”

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Maybe the puzzle begins there, if I can grasp some sort of self-realization I can then make my way through this maze. Life is complex because of people. If you break it down to days, minutes, seconds, where are the key moments located? In instances of interaction, social, or otherwise.

“To understand the heart and mind of a person, look not at what he has already achieved, but at what he aspires to.”

Kahlil Gibran quotes

From there would behaviors feel so irrational? I would assume not. My question really, however, is what happens as we grow and change? Then what, does all the research get thrown out the door? Or, with the insights granted, we still have some comprehension as to why behaviors are occuring? Then we can never say we are surprised but that we saw something ignited.

“Get in touch with the way the other person feels. Feelings are 55% body language, 38% tone and 7% words.”

-Professor Albert Mehrabian

As one can probably tell I have reasons for wanting all this “knowledge.” Some days it feels worth the effort and others, well I just want to throw everyone into a pit of fire.

Being that I’m human my patience is wearing thin. As I strive to “give the benefit of the doubt” or to strictly “get people” I become less patient with their…limitations.

Granted you can see I am not a perfect communicator but I do value that I try, honestly. There is no day I want to pass with someone being confused as to what I meant by anything, spoken or otherwise.

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Unknown Want

Indecisively I sit. Crawling more like. Towards that light in the corner. There’s something hopeful about it. Hopeful it leads somewhere. Hopeful it can be anything.

Crawling disjointed. This is all so new. I was walking so long I’d forgotten how to crawl. Training wheels. Crawling feels more desirous. Your end destination more of a journey. An adventure. An accomplishment.

The light stares back at me. Barely. Squeezing my eyes to make sure what I see is real. The light. So dim. Crawling again, confused.

When did I start crawling? What is that light? It so barely glows I’m surprised I noticed it at all. I’d say it was calling to me but it’s reflectant glimmers barely whisper my name.

It seems so far away now. Is it really there? Like a galaxy spotted at side glance, who knows for certain it’s existence. Light please bring good fortune. After all crawling is so…unnatural now. Begging really. Pleading.

Not sure why I even care for this light. Long for it. Crave it’s explanation. But I do. So I’ll continue to crawl. Towards.