Rumination (noun) The act of pondering, meditation; the process of chewing cud!
For most of my adult years, I have kept journals. Some formal, some on scraps of paper piled in a desk. I would write out the noise in my head and then discard it. Sometimes I would return to these notes and sometimes never again. I learned at a very young age to keep my own counsel, opinions of mine were not appreciated, acknowledged nor encouraged; my childhood was not a democracy. I became an observer and never quite achieving the art of being invisible. I have never shared my innermost thoughts, fears, hopes, desires. These were always kept locked away although sometimes committed to paper. I am a good listener.
As a young adult, I learned I could deflect my insecurities, sadness, anger by being funny, witty, sarcastic. My humor has always been self-effacing, self-deprecating. People would say that I was gregarious even confident, but it’s only a cover. I will never stand out in a crowd nor would I want to, for then their would be expectations…expectations that I fear I could not live up to. I have been told I am ordinary, I see nothing wrong with ordinary, I’m good at ordinary.
I am not ambitious, I don’t need to be at the top of the heap. I prefer behind the scenes. Consequently, this lack of ambition has not made me the favored daughter or sibling, or even friend. In fact, I have been referred to in undertones as lazy, the “black sheep” of the family, which makes me laugh quietly to myself. I am not stupid by any sense of the word, I am a reader, an armchair scholar, a thinker, a dreamer. I never shout out my successes, but my failures always seem to garner the spotlight. My siblings are successful, homeowners, have families, are connected, they have a bond. I have always been more comfortable in the company of strangers, a crowd. I am fortunate that I have friends who pull me out of my solitude, refusing to allow me the comfort of being alone.
So, I begin the ruminations of my soul in a “green” way; I have shredded the journals, the bits of paper and placed them in the recycle bin. Join me on my journey if you would like, it’s not always serious, not always relevant, sometimes incredibly sophomoric, inane even asinine, but it is always me!
