Back to, um, Normal?

Well, here we go:  this is, basically, the first planned and scheduled non-story post I have done in over two months.  I have spent my time seeing a woman, Carolyn, go from working mother to martyred hero.  To travel that same path, go to > HERE < and read parts 1-11 at the bottom of the page.  It is about 40 pages double-spaced.

It feels strange to leave her world and return to other pursuits.  I miss her.  I hesitated about doing another story right away.  I felt that, perhaps, I needed to do something more normal, at least, for me.  So, I present the following video to you.  Then, we can chat a bit.

*For some of you:  this video has a couple of same-sex kisses, just so you know.

Well?  I was captivated by the idea of strangers kissing and then, it appeared, most of them really liked it and got into it a bit.  I especially liked the young man and the older woman.  PDAs are something I usually like.  I do them myself, when the reason is there.  I have been called out by them.  I have had family members tell me later that was not appropriate or whatever.  I find myself thinking, “Hey!  What’s the big deal with holding hands, hugging, or even kissing (more than a peck on the cheek)?”  I don’t fully understand what the deal is about showing that we care for someone or that we are swept away by emotions for a moment.  Even our speech is often criticized for putting emotion into it.  I don’t just mean anger or sexy talk.  People may yell at you for displaying most any emotion in your speech.  Why is that?  Why do we force (or try to) people to hold everything inside themselves?

My stroke changed a lot of this for me.  I still try to watch what I say, but I feel much freer.  I say things more now than before.  I let people know if they have hurt me or if I am happy to see them.  Someone who knows me well kind of looks at me funny the first few times they hear me speak out like this.  I have simply lost my need to care about how it may look if I say or do what is on my mind.  Again, some filters remain or I have put them back in place; however, I am new; I am different; I am me and show it now.

I am told this may be called “Post Traumatic Growth Syndrome” (PTGS) or (PTG).  Look it up on Google if you are interested.  That’s not the reason for this post, but it is fascinating.

How about you?  Do you clam up or speak out?  Do you walk the talk?  Do you show people how you feel?

What do they think?  How are you regarded?

Namaste,

Scott

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