What Makes You Shine? What Brings You Joy?
If The Truth Could Be Told~
A writer’s nemesis is always the Truth!
If the truth could be told and if the listener of that truth would not spend the next lifetime being offended, then, in fact, the truth would be told more often, less coded and our spirit would be more in keeping with being set free by its telling. But the truth can not always be told and whilst we ourselves may find some freedom in its telling, we are more likely to bond the listener in such that, like the Genie once let out can never again be bottled.
What once, in my youthful days, gave me sheer pleasure jumping out of bed has now long passed, replaced by another, more in keeping with the wisdom of the time. What gives me pleasure, what gives me sheer joy, is not what actually gets me to jump out of bed. Now the truth will be told. What gets me out of bed, jumping even, is arriving at that very thing that would give me an endless, dare I say, eternity of earthly pleasure.
I want to be sitting on a beach. I want to be sitting there in a relaxed chair, table off to one side with my summer cocktail within reach. I want to be digging my toes in the sand, knowing that, at that very instant and beyond, into the future, as far as my imagination can take me, I will never again have to be a victim of the following—forever and time. I have always loved the joy of being on vacation or just being at peace.
Still, despite my joy, my inner laugher has always been tempered by that devilish forsaken voice in my head, “Why are you so damn happy? Did you forget, when this moment has passed, you have bills to pay, work undone, family issues to deal with, and a car to fix?” When coupled with the litany of joy-killing, subconscious negativity that is lined up like an endless number of robotic bowling pins waiting to be knocked down, joy is often times short-lived.
What gets me out of bed, pumping and raring to go is that solitary thought of sitting on the beach, any warm beach. Having my toes in the sand. A drink in one hand. And most importantly, of all things, the pièce de résistance, will be basking in the knowledge that my joy, my truth, will never again be tampered with by the uninvited subconscious killer of truthful rejoicing.