Thirty Third

(From the writing prompt: "My work is…")

My work is to shield myself from the world, and to shield the world from me. 

To avoid movies, books and songs that make me sad or angry.

My work is to keep one safe place for my daughter to exist, free from  the world's cruelty.  To say, when she came home last week with buzz cut hair done by a friend who clearly lacks the skill to wield clippers, “Look how cute you are!” as she anxiously presented herself to me. 

My work is to learn to comfortably say “I love you” to my brother, even though that is not a thing we do, because I need to say it without regard to whether or not he wants to hear it.  I will listen to his wife when she tells me that he will beat this thing, because he promised her that he would, and “he always keeps his promises.”  I will keep reality off my face and I will agree with her, because her need to believe is stronger than my need to be right. 

My work is to keep the friends who I like close and informed, even when that is uncomfortable, and drift away from the friends I have gathered who cannot listen to me.

My work is to listen better, and talk less.  To ask questions and seek to put myself inside another mind, just to see if I can imagine what it really feels like in there, even if I am sure to be wrong.