Years ago, was shooting hoops with my bro, non-competitively. Just passing each other the ball, taking turns shooting.
I was enamored by the energetic interplay between us. I could envision a line of energy following the ball from my hands to his, and then that energy combined with his as he shot. I felt like I was contributing to each basket he scored, and that he was contributing to mine. When a shot missed, we missed together.
I endeavored to put it into words. I told him how I enjoyed our energetic interplay.
He told me that I’m awkward. “People think that stuff, but they don’t say it,” he said.
I replied, “I don’t feel awkward. If you feel awkward, maybe you’re the awkward one.”
The sentiments here are reflected whenever I read a negative review of a movie. “The melodrama is an embarrassment.”
An embarrassment to who? Is the movie embarrassed? Are the writers? Is the director?
Maybe they are, maybe they aren’t. That’s not a critic’s call to make. They can only say whether they liked it or not. They can’t make a film feel embarrassed.
These sentiments are reflected again by my writing.
Once in a blue moon, someone asks me why I am OK with making an ass of myself in public.
Ass? Me? I don’t feel like an ass. I am not embarrassed about what I write. I don’t feel overly exposed. Don’t feel awkward. I am comfortable with who I am, and I express myself publicly for my own set of valid reasons.
No one can make me feel like an ass, just by saying that I am one. My confidence and stability in my path are developed entirely beyond that.
I like being this way. It works for me. More often than not, this transparency connects me with kindred spirits, and we empower one another on our paths.
I say, just be real. Let your freak flag fly. If someone thinks you’re an ass, that’s their deal. You focus on your deal.
Let other people be other people.
You be you.
Also published on Medium.