I would be terrified to go miles under the sea, but I am still fascinated with what I think I would see. I watch the nature shows and wish I were as daring as the people who do that. The creatures! The ocean floor décor! We only get a glimpse of things that make it to shore or to someone’s trained eye and camera. Still my imagination fuels a desire that if all danger were eliminated for such an adventure, I would definitely sign up.
I think that Heaven will be much like that. Whether mysteries are all revealed and we just “automagically” know them or whether we will be able to travel to places and see them for ourselves, I don’t know but it excites me. I feel sure, since our “bodies” lose their ability to be harmed then—and the food chains will no longer be in operation (the lion lays down with the lamb?) that it’s a strong possibility! Perhaps Heaven contains all of those things—like an all-inclusive trip—experience everything within it that earth possessed, but more!
This lack of “daring” goes much deeper—Daring existed when I was young and stupid but as I grew and matured, it decreased; my sensibility matured and took over. I held in what I thought good ideas because of fear. I was afraid that they would sound stupid.
I have found throughout life that people with big and loud opinions tend to put others down quickly to knock out any competition. That’s not to say that everyone that is outspoken are rude and obnoxious but generally it seems the rude and obnoxious have no problems being outspoken about their opinions. The quieter ones get no chance to speak out unless they fight for it.
In my quest to be more bold, I became prideful. I knew I had something to say and I became determined to say it no matter what. Quickly, I realized that many people have no interest in what I had to say. Their own opinions loudly obliterated mine, at least audibly. So my “say” was kept inside most of the time and this act of imprisonment led me to think silently that I still knew what was best, even if I didn’t speak it.
I made a mistake, though. I refused to listen to others and learn from others like I should have. That’s pride. Maybe daring isn’t my forte. We all have gifts for different reasons. My gifts have been confusing to me. I’ve always been a deep thinker but there’s not much room for philosophers these days. Not many listeners for my “philosophy-ing” either! I thought that others were like me. I didn’t spend much time thinking—let alone believing that other people weren’t deep. My family were/are innovators, readers, creative and talented. After all, everyone was to some degree, right? Little did I realize, except for the occasional obviously shallow person, that we are as much different in our thinking and feeling capacity as we are in our talents and abilities. Our natural gifts sometimes clouds the realization that there are some who can only hope to be deeper by learning or practicing, like swimming or holding your breath under water. That’s not a slam against them personally, just an observation of the facts. It’s not that they chose that propensity or lack of it, but it’s what life handed them.
I’ve also learned that people will pretty much attack you if they feel you might put them in your shadow somehow. I was confused when this happened because it wasn’t my intention. I didn’t even know I did it. It has taken me a long time to learn that that is their defense mechanism. If I had of had the wisdom with my depth, I could have encouraged and lifted them and perhaps this would have made a difference. Maybe not, but I could have tried.
I’m still shocked when I find someone doesn’t like me. Not that I’m so likeable, fun to be with or otherwise charming, but that I hold a sincere and large heart. Once people get to know me, that they will like me is a natural assumption for me. I give my affection and open my heart but when they aren’t interested, it becomes a disappointment that I feel deeply.
One person I grieved over for a long while was (or rather I thought was) my friend and who liked to be with me. There was another agenda in play however, that I did not see or discern. Ulterior motives are not something that I comprehend. It’s part of honesty and integrity to be real and not operate with ulterior motives, but then again I wasn’t raised that way nor did I grow up in circles with people who weren’t true or false. Black or white. You were or you weren’t. Sheltered much? Perhaps.
But I regress: this “friend” met me for breakfast to celebrate her birthday…or again, so I thought. I believe her moment of truth was to reveal to me that I was 1. Unapproachable and 2. Too deep. What does that even mean? So… I’ve heard “quiet until you get to know me…then watch out”, “unapproachable”, “too deep” (for their comfort, not mine) and a plethora of other adjectives that I just don’t perceive as mine. After all, I know myself more than anybody, right?
I’ve had to leave my little girl bubble and realize that some friends aren’t who they said they were or are. Maybe they’re in a bubble all of their own. A look on the inside of me however, revealed that I am honest, trustworthy, a good friend, easy going and love to help others. This led me to smugly think of myself as a little better than others. I can be trusted. I can love. I want to help. Let me prove to you that I am who I say I am.