May 27, 2001 1:31 PM
An airplane hums in the distance and a riot of birds wakes me at 6:30 a.m. I watch a searing line of sunlight like a laser hit the metallic gold wall of my bedroom . … … … … … … … … … …… … … … … … … … … … How valuable is recognition & acknowledgement of another person’s history for an open communication – much less a meaningful bond to take place? If I find myself in a place where no one knows me at all and those with whom I connect in even a superficial way have little curiosity about what has happened thus far in this life, is my identity shaken and my entire being deconstructed? What provides a definition of ‘being,’ anyway? If I surround myself with those who stroke my ego and define me by reflecting only what I want to hear, aren’t I jeopardizing self-growth and living as falsely as a queen dependent on the court jester and smiling ‘tasters’ who even as they show their teeth choke on the poison? I won’t ask to have my hand steadied or my brow soothed in this arena of sharpened steel and erupting blood.