Discernment

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Discernment is the faculty used to make good judgements. Or not. An ordinary interaction with someone today got me thinking about my own discernment, the rather inadequate space that lies between the words in my head and the words coming out of my mouth.

When I find humor in a situation, it is nearly impossible for me to keep my words contained. Like slippery fish in a net, they tend to slide on out. Sometimes they fall under the head of a hammer, bludgeoned to death, deemed inappropriate. Those words make nearly no one laugh. Except me. Sometimes they go back out to sea, largely unnoticed. It is difficult for me to judge what others find humorous. I find absurdity to be incredibly funny and my discernment is often lacking when I decide to share my ridiculous punch-lines. I guess that people find me strange, and really, I don’t give a shit about that.

Discernment is useful in deciding with whom you will share what, and there again, mine is a bit off. I love to be alone, I have a definite need for solitude but not really for privacy. Not for secrecy. Hiding what I feel or even what I do is extremely difficult for me. So for the most part, I don’t bother. (I even feel the need to spout off about myself to the unknown masses here on the internet!) This part of my personality annoys people who are close to me because….I don’t really know why. Because my sharing intimate details with someone does not mean that I am close to that person, so I guess that the people I really am close to feel less valued. (?)

When I am hurt, my discernment instantly captures all of my words, allowing them no exit. They are like maggots that burrow into my heart, feeding off of their fleshy host. I wish that they would feed off of my ass! My heart is big but my ass is way bigger! If I could change my own judgement about how to react in situations where someone has hurt my feelings, I could eliminate so many other problems. Hell, maybe I wouldn’t even have any problems of my own left to resolve. Then I could start working on world peace, which is certainly much more relevant in the sad times we live in.

16 comments

    • pivoine68

      Your comment made me laugh at myself because when I’m sad, it’s the only time I shut the fuck up….so it’s not really very well concealed! 🙂

      Bisous My Noodle!

  1. Jayne

    We are two peas in a pod. I have a question. Why when we are hurt, do we shut up? There are obvious reasons – not wanting to get hurt anymore. Not feeling bonified in having the hurt feelings? Maybe it’s not choosing a worthy person to be that vulnerable with??? ooooh No, maybe it’s not trusting that anything will be done aboiut it in a way that is healing so take care of it myself…unless it’s tied to a definite wrongdoing against me in an inhumane manner. Then – all is fair in love and war. That is the easier one but really, when my feelings are hurt and the only explanation I can see is just a form of rejection put to me in a very clumsy, or dissociative, uncompassionate way, I am helpless but to feel. If there is no spoken conclusion, it doesn’t always heal over or I can’t fully digest it. Unfortunately, not everyone can talk about everything and that includes me. Oh well!

    • pivoine68

      I don’t know. I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember. Sometimes I think I can’t speak because I’m shocked at how cruel people can be. Appalled. Or maybe a little envious. I’ve never been very good at hitting people in the guts. Or anywhere else for that matter. If I see someone hurting someone else though….even a little asshole on the bus who refuses to give his seat to an old lady, I protest. I find my voice. I’m way better at sticking up for the rights of others.

      It’s nice sharing our pod!

      Bises,
      Dawn

      • Jayne

        : ) I always am shocked but I think that’s just my narrow, personal point of view as I stand wrapped in all my feelings like they’re clothing. Like I tell my daughters…This is why you shouldn’t care for people! (as a sarcastic impossible joke)

      • pivoine68

        Oh Jayne! I love to imagine you wrapped in feelings like clothing! Happy feelings would be in cool linen in the summer, warm, soft fleece in the winter.

        Sadness, an incredibly heavy sort of tchador (?) that makes movement nearly impossible.

        Sexiness, a sparkly tasseled bustier! And no panties!!!

        Anger, a high-tech material that makes us invisible. (?)

        If I had daughters, I would also tell them to care for no one. And to NEVER fake an orgasm. ha! Sound advice. It’s probably a really good thing that I never had kids! 🙂 With my luck, they’d be exactly like me, and one of me is more than enough!

      • Jayne

        I would be very happy to have you as a kid. no lie
        Anger would be some shark repellent material.

        Ooooh, the tasseled bustier – has to have long tassels – still see through but just some long dangly strands to slink arounf thighs and fat cheeks! You know – TRICK the eye a bit….in candle light!

  2. Dawn D

    Well, I’m like you I suppose, in my own way. When I’m sad, as now, I tend to curl up in a ball and run away from interaction if I can help it (which, having my kids around, isn’t easy 😉 ). And when I do have to interact with people, then I put on my mask and present my usual cheerful, smiling face. I’m a pretty good actor I think. Trained very young :-/
    I agree with you about teaching my girls to never fake an orgasm. I never faked one. Hard to fake something you have never experienced at first, and then what’s the point? I mean, if you fake, the guy will never know you’re not satisfied. And will keep doing the things that don’t work thinking they do :-/
    That’s if I could work up the nerve to talk to those girls about orgasms. I am happy already that I managed to talk to my kids openly enough about consent, the fact that sex isn’t shameful and these sort of things. If I started talking about orgasms, they may start to ask questions… and how do you tell your kids their dad never managed to make you come, or only very rarely, but since you’ve left him you come like a train? Sigh!
    I’ve got to go now, but I just wanted to send you big hugs before I do.
    XO

  3. pivoine68

    Fake hand shakes are horrid, the Air Bise makes me throw up….hugging is tough to fake, yet not impossible. Ha! My hugs are big, my bises are wet and loud, my handshake firm. Not enough to break a wrist, but strong! Lol!

    Have a good weekend! Je t’embrasse! 🙂

    • Dawn D

      Well, I agree with you on all those points. What’s the point in faking a connection? I mean, whether it’s a kiss, a hug or a handshake, the point is to establish a connection with someone. Same as orgasms. So what’s the point, really, to engage in this if you don’t try to establish that connection?
      My bises and hugs are very real too. Sending you both 🙂
      Enjoy your weekend too…

  4. Etoile Henri

    Oui, Faisons l’Amour, pas la Guerre….

    Surtout s’il y a de la place, comme vous semblez le suggérer…….

    Nous gagnerions à nous Co-Naître, c’est certain!

    Et comme vous déclarez ouvertement, non pas l’Amour possible,

    mais plutôt la Solitude, Comme essentielle,

    Nous avons tout (de bonnes bases) pour nous entendre!

    Non, Rien,

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