I’ll never have enough time to write out the lead-in, the intricate backstory, the nuances of each pounding moment…I’ll just sketch out the broad outlines and let it go at that, barring time to add flourishes and ruffles later.
Like this:
Bridgette & Ambar were idle at Orycon while I was in a panel, and met with Thingmaker. Thingmaker is wonderously clever & wise, and pleasant to talk with, so they did. They were pondering how best to club me over the head to convince me that I needn’t be stupid about taking care of everyone else, and about letting everyone else take care of me. This, I say again, is the bare-bones, and you’ve all read things about this in the last few weeks; briefly, I default to care-taker for everyone, which interferes with taking care of me.
Fine.
Thingmaker listened attentively, as he does, and deep rumination was writ large o’er his features, his gaze resting on some principle distant and ponderous. “I might,” he considered aloud, “have some thoughts to share with Mnarra on this subject.” They spoke no more of that, shifting the conversation to more frivolous things.
Well, of course. I mean to say, if it isn’t all about me, it is, by definition, frivolous. Anyway.
I joined the party after my panel was over, pleased to see Thingmaker. Thingmaker held no expression on his face, but motioned me to him, arms lifted to me. I’m generally willing to be hugged, so moved closer. He shifted quickly and placed me in a headlock, gently but firmly, and boffed me once on the head.
“You,” he said, “are allowed to write your book.” boff “You are allowed to take care of yourself.” boff “It is all right to let those who love you take care of you.” boff “It is all right to be vulnerable and let people love you.” boff boff boff
I’ve no idea what he said after that last line. My mind began to whir and click, emitting ozone and sparks and just generally giving indications that things were happening within my skull.
boff
“…be vulnerable and let people love you.”
boff
Does one need to be vulnerable to let people love one?
Haven’t I been vulnerable in the extreme for years?
I mean, my life is like unto an open book…the things I feel and think are broadcast, and anyone may hear of them without raising my concern….
…which means that, no matter who knows what, it doesn’t change anything…
…which means I’m not vulnerable in that way….
boff
…If I am vulnerable, how am I vulnerable?
boff
And what has vulnerability to do with taking care of everyone else?
boff
My ears were beginning to smoke. boff boff
That’s what I’ve time for right now. I’ll elucidate later.
Crossposted from Epinepherine & Sophistry