Tag Archives: People

Every Meeting With You Is A Date

I’m saying this to men, to women, to married people, to gay people, to colleagues, to acquaintances, friends, family. I’m going to treat every meeting with you, like it’s a date.

If you were going on a date with someone you liked, you’d prioritise making it happen. You’d be too excited about the prospect of meeting them to keep them hanging. Work, life, health and other people would be valid justifications but you would make sure they didn’t become excuses. You’d ensure you didn’t need an excuse. You’d be on time.

You’d treat the meeting like it was conscious manifestation of what you wanted. Not a tolerable alternative when you had nothing better to do & didn’t feel like the effort of saying no. You’d not turn it into free therapy or professional advice to be more productive because meeting them would be gift enough.

You’d bring your best self. You’d dress nicely. You’d speak with consideration and thought. You’d care about their wanting to meet you again, not assuming that it would be default. You’d make the effort to be good company.

You’d care about their opinion of you. You’d show them. You’d acknowledge the effort they made to please you. You’d be respectful of the thought they put in and that they could have been elsewhere but they chose to spend this time with you.

I promise to treat every meeting with you like this. I expect you to do so too. If you don’t, I can write you off as a bad date rather than internalise your inability to treat me well, as reflection of my abilities. This means I will not have as many dates but that’s okay. I’d rather have one great date with you in six months than ten lousy ones in a month.

My time is precious and so is yours. My emotions are valuable to me. I invest both carefully. If you do as well, maybe we’ll have a great date soon!

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EVERY MEETING WITH YOU IS A DATE I’m saying this to men, to women, to married people, to gay people, to colleagues, to acquaintances, friends, family. I’m going to treat every meeting with you, like it’s a date. If you were going on a date with someone you liked, you’d prioritise making it happen. You’d be too excited about the prospect of meeting them to keep them hanging. Work, life, health and other people would be valid justifications but you would make sure they didn’t become excuses. You’d ensure you didn’t need an excuse. You’d be on time. You’d treat the meeting like it was conscious manifestation of what you wanted. Not a tolerable alternative when you had nothing better to do & didn’t feel like the effort of saying no. You'd not turn it into free therapy or professional advice to be more productive because meeting them would be gift enough. You'd bring your best self. You’d dress nicely. You’d speak with consideration and thought. You’d care about their wanting to meet you again, not assuming that it would be default. You'd make the effort to be good company. You’d care about their opinion of you. You'd show them. You’d acknowledge the effort they made to please you. You’d be respectful of the thought they put in and that they could have been elsewhere but they chose to spend this time with you. I promise to treat every meeting with you like this. I expect you to do so too. If you don’t, I can write you off as a bad date rather than internalise your inability to treat me well, as reflection of my abilities. This means I will not have as many dates but that’s okay. I’d rather have one great date with you in six months than ten lousy ones in a month. My time is precious and so is yours. My emotions are valuable to me. I invest both carefully. If you do as well, maybe we'll have a great date soon! ——– 🎶: HERE COMES THE SUN – The Beatles #theideasmithy #dating #friendship #relationships #valuetime #depthobsessed #lifelessons #peopleareawesome #social #society #companionship #conversations #respect #respectyourself #selfrespect #positivevibes #positivity #goodcompany #friend #friendshipgoals #fusionwear #indianfashion #fashionblogger #fashion

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A Game of Eye Contact

A steady gaze is also a cocked gun. This gaze makes the world go silent, words dropping away, identities falling away, sounds melting away and all that exists is that tenuous link held by eye contact. They say the eyes are the windows of the soul. These windows pull you in just as much as they penetrate your being. You cannot touch without also being touched. This touch your skin won’t feel but everything inside you will.

There is a wealth of perceptions that lies buried under good manners. There is yearning, unreasonable. There is rage, unconscionable. There is desire, filthy, savage and uncontrollable. There are screams that merge need and satiation. There is worry, seeping into the cracks  between the best laid plans. There are war cries that are claims of identity. 
They lie shuttered behind blinking eyelids and wavering gazes. And when you make eye contact, you will see your pretty covers taken down to wash. Laundry day for your insides. You will feel the rain and you will be the clouds and you will see it all.

It will be hard to remember the boundary between you and me and the world and them and sense and feeling and structure when…when you look straight into these eyes and they look back at you. You are simultaneously witness and the witnessed. The audience and the performer. The existence and its perception.

It takes two to create and not even a fraction of a second. And it takes one to break it and we always do. Because this game of identity & eye contact is one that we all like to play. Just until we remember that when those eyes shut, there is only darkness.

We all look the same in the night.

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A GAME OF EYE CONTACT A steady gaze is also a cocked gun. This gaze makes the world go silent, words dropping away, identities falling away, sounds melting away and all that exists is that tenuous link held by eye contact. They say the eyes are the windows of the soul. These windows pull you in just as much as they penetrate your being. You cannot touch without also being touched. This touch your skin won't feel but everything inside you will. There is a wealth of perceptions that lies buried under good manners. There is yearning, unreasonable. There is rage, unconscionable. There is desire, filthy, savage and uncontrollable. There are screams that merge need and satiation. There is worry, seeping into the cracks  between the best laid plans. There are war cries that are claims of identity. They lie shuttered behind blinking eyelids and wavering gazes. And when you make eye contact, you will see your pretty covers taken down to wash. Laundry day for your insides. You will feel the rain and you will be the clouds and you will see it all. It will be hard to remember the boundary between you and me and the world and them and sense and feeling and structure when…when you look straight into these eyes and they look back at you. You are simultaneously witness and the witnessed. The audience and the performer. The existence and its perception. It takes two to create and not even a fraction of a second. And it takes one to break it and we always do. Because this game of identity & eye contact is one that we all like to play. Just until we remember that when those eyes shut, there is only darkness. We all look the same in the night. #theideasmithy

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If you liked this post, you’ll want to follow the Facebook Page and the Youtube channel. I’m Ramya Pandyan (a.k.a. Ideasmith) and I’m on Twitter and Instagram.

Reverb 10.13: ListMaker

A dozen Reverb10 prompts later, I decide to go with brevity. Freedom but in short. So my posts are going to (try to) be quick bites and not twenty-course meals with seconds. Here goes the first.

December 13 – Action

When it comes to aspirations, it’s not about ideas. It’s about making ideas happen. What’s your next step?

(Author: Scott Belsky)

I’m full of ideas. I’m IdeaSmith, after all (duh..). Actions? No, I’m not too bad in that areas either (sure, hate me, I’m wonderful!). It’s the sustaining them that I find difficult (okay, are you happy now?).

Lists have been my personal penicillin, wheel-style revelation. They help me keep my harum-scarum self organized. They remind of things that tend to slip out. And they’re like the lovely security deposit of ideas I have when I’m running dry. So the answer is, when I have an idea, I usually make a list (haven’t you noticed even this exercise is in a list?). I break the idea into broad zones/aspects, I detail tasks, I note down people to be connected with and what I need from them. List-making is usually an exhaustive exercise but it has the wonderful gift of making everything and anything seem manageable.

Oh, I forgot to add – crossing off things on the list is an integral part of enjoyment of the list. And that’s done and as short as I can get on the first try!

Reverb 10.11: What I Don’t Need In 2011 (And How I’m Avoiding Them)

A list! I love lists! And that’s only the first reason why this Reverb 10 prompt has me singing.

December 11: 11 Things

What are 11 things your life doesn’t need in 2011? How will you go about eliminating them? How will getting rid of these 11 things change your life?

(Author: Sam Davidson)

Fooo…..yes, I was all enthusiastic and eager and ecstatic (and other good-sounding ‘E’ words) at the thought of a list. But having discovered the list is (again!) about things that one has to bid goodbye to, my E stuff feels D’ed (dampened, defeated, disgusted, demeaned, disillusioned, devastated…).

11 Things My Life Does Not Need in 2011 (why not and how I plan to get rid of them):

1. Writer’s block:

I’ve faced this enough of times in the past year and can testify to it being the vilest, most horrible, uncomfortable, lonely, sickening feeling ever. It’s like being constipated for days on end and watching everyone else eat sumptuous tasty meals. It’s like being pregnant for eighteen months, watching your belly bloat to alarming proportions and wondering if the only way out will be for you to burst. *Shudder* Never, ever again, please.

I don’t really have a plan to get rid of the possibility of this but I guess I can keep my proverbial medical kit handy. Good friends, other career options and enough of distractions to tide me over till it passes.

2. Financial worries:

I’ve never been poor. But there have been times when money has felt a little stretched. Add a generous dose of good South-Indian girl guilt to that. That’s when if the outgoing includes items that are not mind-enhancing and matrimonial-prospect-inducing, they’re considered wasteful. Incoming has got to be a steady, predictable flow, no windfalls-followed-by-empty-periods for this one.

Considering I’ve chucked up a sensible, respectable career for a newfangled, alien venture like writing, am well past my sell-by (as prescribed by the Southern powers-that-be) date and show no signs of making up for it, pressure is high. Much of this of course, is self-induced which is the beauty of any childhood-implanted guilt. The recording plays on inside your head, long after the originators of the voices have fallen silent. Anyway, I really do not need the cringing self-doubt of dwindling savings with no albeit tiny-but-definitely-incoming money flow in sight. I don’t believe I have the nerve to go through with being footloose and income-free for very long. Which just means, I’ll run back to the safety and uninspiring boredom of a respectable job, again. And that’s the end of my writing career, my dreams and my self-worth.

How I plan to keep this wolf at bay is by thinking ahead and keeping open to income-generating options. Naturally, I have my pride and conscience and I don’t intend to resort to get-rich quick schemes. But I have chalked up a number of things that I can do and do well. There’s writing of course (all kinds) and also number-crunching, business analysis and a number of other things I’m still discovering. It’s still a tricky thing for me, marketing them in a way that doesn’t sound like I’m full of myself. But very simply, these are retailable skills. Money earned for work done is a simple enough mantra. And fingers crossed that there will be enough of takers for what I’m selling.

3. Emotional distance

One of the first things that I decided I wanted to do, when I quit last year, was to go back to being the person I was a decade ago. Starry-eyed, idealistic, passionate, uncontrollably alive. Also unfashionable, socially outcast and totally uncool. But I wanted that and I wanted it all, no exclusions.

A big revelation happened over the course of the year (through the novel and many wine-soaked conversations with E Vestigio and long distance phone calls with P, L and others). I cut out sarcasm. Then I whittled away at cynicism. I chipped off bitterness. And I’m gnawing away at polite behaviour.

The results are that I’m exploding more than once. I’m often caught at a loss for words or saying the most horribly inappropriate things at the wrong times. But I feel so very alive! The sense of being weighed down is going. Even though I’m actually a few kilos heavier than when I had a rigourous daily schedule, I feel lighter.

I’m not completely there yet but I intend to keep at it. Emotional distance from people and experiences is what I thought kept me sane. But it also kept me stifled, tiny and mostly dead. I’m letting go. Be warned, much madness up ahead but it’ll all be authentic, 100% me.

4. Poor health

Rheumatism. Spondilitis. Diabetes. All things that doctors have been threatening, are creeping up on me.

Malaria. Gastroentitis. Low blood pressure. Vitamin D deficiency. Weak bones. All things that have already made their presence felt in my life.

I was always a skinny kid but also a bundle of energy and I recuperated quickly. The most ironic thing about my health in the past decade was discovering that I was overstressed and vitamin-D deficient. On asking what I could do to get better, I was told to work less and play more!

That seems like wonderful advice to follow (even doctors say nice things sometimes). So I intend to worry less, laugh a lot more, eat well, run around like crazy in the sun – and hopefully live not just longer but better.

5. Unhealthy weight gain

As mentioned above, I was a skinny kid and I grew up into a lean adult. But shortly after I quit my job, I discovered that I was alarmingly fleshy for my snugfit jeans. I ended up getting a new wardrobe (of dresses and skirts) but that niggling belief that I was bloating hasn’t left. Of course I’m duly grateful that it’s only a little weight, that actually does look good on me. But I’m alarmed by the idea that it could just inflate (pun intended) out of control. What’s more, I really don’t want to add cholesterol, heart disease and other things to the repertoire I’ve listed above.

What I plan to do about this, has actually already been set in action. I signed up for yoga six months ago and did follow the regime for a good while. But the schedule didn’t suit me and I fell off the bandwagon. Mercifully for me, I also started swimming, an activity that brings me even more pleasure than health benefits. The weather has gotten a little too chilly to enjoy the swim much but I still managed to get into the pool 4 days last week and complete around 15 or more laps before shivering my way back to the changing room. Maybe I’ll sign up for a dance class too.

Persistence and patience are my friends and I don’t intend to let those sneaky kilos get the better of me.

6. Boredom

The killer of all things creative, happy and joyful, who would be scareder of boredom, than a storyteller (an entertainer)? Thankfully for me, the world is a treasure trove of interesting things and people and experiences.

I’m not going to deaden this by putting a schedule on it. Suffice to say that when something occurs to me, I explore it. A new hobby? An interesting person? A novel idea? I’m a sleuth for interesting experiences and each one I pick up only leads to bigger and greater delights.

7. Control

This is the other card in the evil side’s deck, supporting the first card of boredom. Control by family, by employers, by social norms, by stereotypes. It kills the spirit, it kills my soul and it damages my creativity.

I don’t have a plan to avoid every instance of being controlled by another person or entity. But when I do face one of them, I intend to stand my ground and not cave. Enough died, already.

8. Other people’s problems

Egos. Insecurities. Complexes. Weaknesses. Negative sentiments. I’ve had a strange affinity for all of these from other people. That, coupled with the ability to absorb and expand on all, I feel like I’ve been quite a bundle of other people’s nerves.

It’s rather tricky detaching oneself from these things without imposing emotional distance from them. I don’t get it most of the time. What’s more, standing up for myself has never come easy (no matter what the image may dictate).

No plan on this one either. Just the will to oppose it and hope that practice will make perfect.

9. High bills on clothes, makeup and socializing

This I really, really don’t need. I am no shopaholic but after a decade of denial, I decided to indulge. Now I think, enough of self-pampering and now for some balanced restraint.

This is the other aspect of keeping away financial worries – curbing the unnecessary outgoing along with building the possible incoming. I don’t really have to have expensive shoes that only last a month. Mumbai roads make dust of everything and none of the big shops guarantee any quality on this terrain. High-voltage partying has never been my scene and mercifully the social circle I move around in, doesn’t really cotton to it either. Mostly I am now okay with saying that I can’t afford it and so I won’t. Out with the fabulous lifestyle, in with some peace of mind.

10. Goodbyes to people I’m close to

This is more a fearful wish than an intelligent item on the planning list. Six months of 2010 were spent in trying to cope with saying goodbye to good friends, to notions of loyalty, to dreams of greatness. I know I learn from each of these experiences. But I’ve had a rough, really rough enough ride of it. I’m not sure I’m ready for another dose, just yet.

I can’t think of anything to put under 11 so this is going to be a list of 10. That’s my bit for letting go of control (even my own OCDness)!

Chronology

Where does a story actually begin?

You can start to tell it from the middle,
race to the end,
stop just before the last chapter,
then retrace your steps back to the start
…and then go again.

Stories are nice that way.

And so are people and conversations.

~O~O~O~O~O~

A good time may come,
And then a bad time,
And another one…or not…
And who can tell which one it’ll be?

But we’ll keep walking
And we’ll keep talking
So long as the feet on the road
Belong to both you and me.

BlogAdda 3: Protecting Your Privacy

My third post is up on BlogAdda. Last week I talked about how to build accessibility for a blog through feeds and link-sharing mechanisms. This week I take a look at the exact opposite.

While the internet opens you up to a broad range of people and experiences, it also leaves you open to a number of undesirable elements. Fortunately, filtering mechanisms are available that can help you tailor your online presence with the level of accessibility and privacy that suits you the best. Privacy is as relevant an issue as accessibility and I felt that after talking about how to make one’s blog visible, it was vital to know how to also protect oneself online.

(Click here to read the post)

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If Work Is God, Who Are Your Colleagues?

Doing some online housekeeping, I came across some of my old writing. I noticed one of the lesser read blogs and it took me down memory lane, why I used to write it and even why I didn’t try very hard to build its readership. Office Capers was about work and deep down I was petrified that my personal life would spill over into my professional life and mess up the one thing that still worked.

As I read through this, I was glad I hadn’t deleted the blog as I’d often considered doing after I shut it. Like old diaries, old blogs can serve to show you how far you’ve come and even remind you of things about yourself that you had forgotten.

It was a sharp wake-up call to remember the face behind that ugly word ‘workaholic’, a reminder of the frustration, the desperation that fuels a person on to risk destroying everything else in life, in pursuit of the tangible goals of work.

It was seeing the early signs of restlessness even in what would seem like a fulfilling situation. A tremendous sigh of relief at having escaped. Also the clarity that the experience was necessary, even good for how it enriched me and brought me to who I am today. And finally, a reminder of some of the good moments, funny and sweet and happy that were what really sustained me through the pressures and the despair.

A job is much like a relationship. You spend so much of your time and energy on it. It defines a major part of your identity. It molds you but it also cuts you. It changes you in ways that you may not like and some that you may feel lucky for. There are the tangible wins, the dates that you circle on your calendar and look back at with a smile. And the everyday annoyances, the tiny deaths and daily frustrations. If you are lucky, the former will more than make up for the latter. Either way, you are changed forever by what you give yourself to.

My favorite boss of all time remains my role model and I cherish him all the more since I met him at a time when my beliefs were shaken and I felt the loss of someone to look up to, acutely. When I became a manager I tried my best to pattern my behavior and systems on him. I don’t know if I succeeded but just having someone to aspire to being makes a big difference. I cried in his office when he left and I was transferred to another team. And that took me 3 years to admit to.

My second favorite boss was also a friend before we worked together. Our relationship was very different from the one I described above. I didn’t look up to him with awe but I always had a deep respect which only got stronger with time. If the first one was the creator of a space for me to learn, the second one gave me a stage to showcase my skills. Every minute of the year I worked with him was personally satisfying.

I also had a few peers that I felt close to at various points of time and some became friends. But the one relationship that I never anticipated was the one I would have with my juniors.

In my last year at work, I became a manager to a large group of teams. It was an exciting opportunity professionally. But it was also a fun, vibrant atmosphere to be around such young, energetic people. It was a funny (and initially unsettling) experience to be on the other side, to be that person who was called ‘the boss’ *in hushed tones*.

Working with my first boss in mind, I was determined that my team should trust me and enjoy working with me but also personally benefit from the experience. I made mistakes, a lot of them. One of the things a friend told me then (and it saved my sanity) was,

If you’ve become a manager, you are going to have to accept that you will never really be liked by everyone. But that’s okay. You don’t need to be popular, you need to get the work done.

The untimely death of one of my team-members was a crucial turning point. I felt Sidhant’s absence acutely and it wasn’t because there was one number short on the headcount. It was him, the person himself I missed….his very own unique brand of good work, daily tardiness, unyielding commitment, silly jokes, excessive worrying and great ideas. In the six months that I continued working after he was gone, I could never quite shake the feeling that if I just called out for him, he’d pop around the corner with his shy, sudden smile. His phone number is still on my cell. It used to be one of my frequently dialed numbers and somehow I can’t bring myself to let go of the security of that.

Things changed around tremendously workwise. But something inside me shifted as well. You don’t expect people younger than you to suddenly pass away. It suddenly made me look at every else in a new way – my friends, my family and my colleagues. They suddenly went from being a group of ‘resources’ to individual people. I suddenly realized something I should never have forgotten.

Work was not about the fancy office, the cabin in the corner or an impressive visiting card. It wasn’t the laptop, company credit card or the special employee benefits. It wasn’t the high profile clients or how much value it was adding to my resume. Finally, it was all about the people I was with, day in and day out, sharing daily annoyances with, laughing over last night’s movie to lighten up the day’s pressures, cribbing about a screaming client, fighting with, colliding against. It was the people who touched my lives and whose lives I touched.

When I began the sabbatical, for the first week I had withdrawal symptoms worse than my most heartwrenching breakup. I was terribly….officesick. I didn’t miss the work (even thought it actually been thoroughly interesting). I barely missed the mad commute and having to get up each morning (Hah!). But every day I missed the familiar faces, their jokes, their worries, their conversations. I missed walking into a building where people knew me and who I was. I missed having a place to belong to. I missed my team, my kids. Terribly.

The good thing is that I’m now able to be much more of myself now. Their image of me was the last link holding me to my anonymity and since that stopped being an issue, I came open last year. Most of my kids (and both aforementioned bosses) are connected to me on Facebook. Some of them read my blog.

I socialize with a few of them. I wrote a reference for one of them. I party with another quite often. I counseled a few of them when career choices happened.

One of them is my fellow commiserator in matters of the heart, as we swap love-life anecdotes and compare notes. Two of them are dating and I was accordingly enlightened the week after I resigned. ‘Since you’re sort of my mom-in-law’ she said with a wink. 😀

When one of them came home on her winter break, she met me for dinner. She brought me a bottle of wine because she said I had introduced her to rose wine which became her favorite (I don’t remember this. I most certainly didn’t encourage drinking in office!!) 🙂

The day I left, one of my kids clasped my hand and said, “I’m going to work really hard and make you proud of me.” I told him I already was. And prouder still when he was promoted a few months later. I received another call the day a bunch of promotions were announced and the voice at the other end said, “I wish you had given me this news.” Both those times made me choke up. Guys, at the risk of slipping in yet another lesson….it’s okay to get senti sometimes. Celebrate the wonderful times, make a huge deal out of them. But NEVER in front of a client, okay! 🙂

Another one, all wistfulness, was telling me recently, that he missed the early days when the team was small and their friendships close and intimate. I told him relationships would change and it wasn’t always bad. The good ones would last even as they evolved. And that perhaps some day we would work again, maybe this time he would be my boss and would teach me something. It made him laugh but I wasn’t joking. I was so lucky to have worked with them, to have been in a position to touch their lives. And after I quit, overnight I gained a group of new friends. I’m thrilled to continue being a part of their lives.

This post has gone all over the place, as with matters of the heart. I’ll end with something I found in the Office Capers archives.

Colleagues Can Be Human Too

After a week of travelling and staying with collegues, I now know that the people I work with:

– Look like hell first thing in the morning
– Do not know how to set an alarm, then set it wrong
– Are willing to do without toothpaste because they forgot to pack it and refuse to buy it
– Have not heard of voicemail and are unaware of how to check messages (I didn’t either)
– Read the pre-class work over breakfast
– Copy each other’s notes
– Flick pens, pencils, mints from other desks and forget their own in the restaurant
– Will drink vile-tasting brown liquid from any cup lying on the table so long as it smells of coffee
– Sit on/ step on other people’s spectacles
– Leave their own spectacles in the restaurant aisle, the table outside their room, the seat next to theirs
– Eat noodles, pancakes, fried rice, sushi, dal makhani and fresh fruit all in the same meal (breakfast!!!!) and with the same cutlery
– Gorge on soup, salad and croissants (for lunch!) and finish up with a dessert of chocolate sauce over watermelon slices (…err..that was me)
– Love shopping even for things available at half the price back home (the women)
– Love guzzling beer and rooting for people they can’t name in a strange pub and paying thrice for it (the men)
– Lie about their age (women) and marital status (men)
– Pack their airline tickets into the checked-in baggage
– Shuffle between tomorrow’s tickets, the travel brochure, the hotel bill while looking for the boarding pass
– Find the boarding pass lodged into the unused wallet pocket on the left, and wonder why it looks different from everyone else’s (its the one from the arrival flight and we’re now on our way back home!)

In short, the suits and ties fall away revealing a bunch of feather-brained, illogical, annoying people who remind me of myself. Does that make me feel better? No.

To all the people I’ve referred to in this post – The only reason I haven’t mentioned names is to protect your privacy but you know who you are. I was privileged to have worked with you. You changed my life in ways that I’m still counting.

Enter At Your Own Peril

Be careful how deeply you look into people. The most negative emotions run skin-deep. As you get under their skin, you start to meet their motivations, their desires and their shortcomings. You should probably stop right there. Because any deeper and you come face to face with their fears, their anguish, their weakness…and worst of all, their dreams before they were broken. It’s really hard to get that close to a person’s dreams and not want to make them come true for them.

You’re lost after that. Not ever able to push them out of your mind or your heart, even if you do get them out of your life. Love may be a good thing but too much of it can destroy you. In delving deep into people, you lose sight of yourself. But finally, you’ve got to live in your own body, bearing your own emotions and living within the boundaries of your own life. Who knows then, whether there is really anyone else who will delve into you as deeply as you have into others? There aren’t any knights in shining armor and no one’s going to follow you into the murky depths of other people’s lives to save you. Or even if they want to…they can’t. Not everyone was born to be a deep sea diver…or a deep soul diver, as the case may be.

Be careful how far you go. Much evil lurks in the hearts of people in the form of the sweet poison of love that dulls your defenses. You’re on your own after that.

In and Out

I like to make a grand entry and a quiet exit.
At events, in situations and other people’s lives.

There’s nothing quite like making a splash since most people believe in first impressions.

On the other hand, goodbyes for me, need to be quiet,
Like they almost never happened..so perhaps it will be the same again if we meet
It could be that goodbye just isn’t a word I like
Or maybe I just like leaving behind a lingering question mark – as a final gift.

Leaving was a hard lesson to learn but one well-learnt.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Update:

Within ten minutes of writing this post, my phone buzzes with the following note:

From what I remember, you went out as quietly as you came in. 🙂
But you hover in ways I cannot describe.

With that last line, you just made my day! 😀

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