que pasa

Hi, I've not been updating of late because in the past month I've had to do a fair bit of writing at work and I didn't feel up to writing anymore.  But I guess azzamac's comment prompted me out of action.  It's not so much that I'm sick of blogging, just tired. 

So anyway, I turned 30 last month.  Around that time, I realized that I'm actually a very private person, despite my willingness to share and talk about most things.  I mean, I may be willing to enter into discussion, but I don't state my personal position often.

What happened was an old friend wrote to me to express his feelings on a certain matter (hoping I would agree), I actually felt quite the opposite. I realized then that his impression and understanding of me was actually quite incomplete.  Not through his fault though but because I never felt it necessary to share my opinion on some issues.  It was just never part of our friendship.  I box people in categories, so you see only what you need to see/know/understand depending on the nature and level of relationship.

It then made me wonder who really gets to see the whole "me".  I suppose my colleagues see the bulk of my profile because they interact with me the most in terms of absolute number of hours.  They get to see me stressed, happy, sad, confused and so on.  But then as the companies I work for get smaller, and the amount of responsibility or expectation gets higher, I realize that I show part, not all of what I feel.  That is, I may be upset, but my colleagues don't see half of it. 

Then I thought about my church friends here.  I only see them twice a week.  But the truth is, as supposedly "intimate" our fellowship is supposed to be because of our common faith and beliefs, it takes just as much effort as any other relationship to want to open up and say what I really feel.

I thought about my friends and family back home.  Well, they probably know me, though not completely.  I don't tell them everything either.  But our lives are so far apart it's hard to be in-sync all the time.  And with my bad keepin-in-touch skills, and this increasing irregularity in my blogging, it's getting worse. 

I wrote before about being like an onion.  Peeling of layers to find the real me.  Now I think I'm a combination of an onion in a black box with a few eye-holes you can peer through.  Depending on which eye-hole you look through, I present a certain side of myself.  Depending on how big the eye-hole is, you sometimes see more (or less) of me.  And that's only the exterior.  Then depending if that eye-glass is tinted, it makes you see me in a certain light.  It's like those crazy mirrors in the science center which distors what you see depending on their curvature.

It doesn't change how I feel about you though.  I'm actively listening to what you say, but I'm not saying much about myself anymore.   For example, I'm telling you all this stuff, but I didn't actually give you any specifics, see?  And if you're reading this in the first place, it means that I've probably boxed you in a category that lets you look through this eye-hole.

It's not about talking more.  It's about sharing about what matters, it's about being vulnerable.  I think I've associated being vulnerable with being weak.  I'm so used to being "strong" for other people that I end up being "strong" for myself, if you know what I mean. 

Perhaps it's a result of living abroad and living alone.  But something tells me that I've always been like that.  And trying to maintain that "if you've got nothing good to say, don't say it" policy keeps more things inside. 

Then I recall that there's always Papa.  But then it really sucks to be completely exposed.  I can't even hide in the corner and say, that wasn't me.  Or I don't really feel that way.  So I lock him out, I don't talk to him.  But he still sees, he still knows.  He's still chasing after me like that hound from heaven.  Yet somedays, I'm so glad I don't have to "catch him up", he's always been in the know.

Weird eh?