When not to speak ...

There is a difficult balance to be struck if you are taught to defer to your betters, speak when you are spoken to and to show no outward sign of the state of your emotions.   The conflict lies within the need to hear, or see, natural justice take its rightful place without either;  making an idiot of yourself, or worse still, be punished publicly for daring to feel out loud.

All hooman beans, of course, communicate with every atom of their beings:  we tell each other how we feel with so many tools;  voices, music, art, words, touch, eyes, smell, gesture, memory and instinct to name but a few.  Depending on your nature or nurturing, you learn to suppress or to just "be".

I have taken small steps recently in the art of communication with my species.  Ingrained from day one with the need to stay silent in the presence of adults:  I have a vivid memory of our family going to visit some Great Aunt and we three children were seated in a line on the broad windowsill in the best room, dressed in our best clothes, silent and still.  Any sound or movement invited admonishment from any or all of the assembled adults.  If any of us transgressed the rules whilst visiting, the journey home would be a rant against our ill discipline and the fact that we had shamed the family.  All three of us would be punished irrespective of who was the guilty party.  As the eldest I took on the role of protector and would watch my siblings closely to ensure they did not get into trouble.  Little mother, I was unwittingly reinforcing the Victorian stance and it is not until recent years that I have realised that.

Reflecting on my career path I realise also that I chose, or had chosen for me by fate, supporting roles; a back room girl happy to let the stars shine at the front taking my joy in their success.  Every single role from domestic service to personal assistant to a main board director of a blue chip company; from legal executive to writing training material, meant I was little mother.  Always on the alert for possible harm to 'my' people and doing all that I could to protect them.  I was, and remain, a huge fan of loyalty.  I am absolutely devastated when either my loyalty is thrown back in my face, or, I discover that what I thought was loyalty towards me was nothing more concrete than a sham.

And sometimes, just sometimes,, my need to shout, metaphorically 'It's not fair!  It's not just!  It's not right!' leaps out almost unbidden from my throat.  It doesn't have to be a response to a personal issue, real or imagined, it can and does happen when I think someone is unfairly taking the piss out of someone else; or perhaps showing disrespect for their weakness.  For many decades I bit my tongue; kept my head down, was a good girl, didn't argue, didn't challenge my elders and betters.  Acceptance.  Acceptance of my station in life.

There was, however, a bit of the flaw in the doormat design assigned to me.  A slightly misplaced piece of DNA meant that, inside me, was a very well developed sense of natural justice which could not be suppressed or contained no matter how hard I tried.  I have been practising quite a bit the art of actually answering a direct question with a direct answer.  Even if the answer may not be palatable to the listener, or indeed, palatable to me.  It's quite a painful process but also incredibly liberating at times.  

I am now almost restored to a sense of equilibrium thanks to Doctor Blog and sign off by saying, just for one day;  listen with all of your senses, hear with your eyes, talk with all of your senses and speak with your body.

Love and peace
THE Purple Fairy xxx