Mr. Cloudy's Shelter
A Place to Listen and be Heard

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Crying at work

Crying at work blows - maybe I've said that before, but I'm old and forgetful, so I say it again.

The weird thing about today is that on the way to work I was filled with emotion listening to music. And in that wonder, I almost felt that it could be possible to freely give myself away to people.

But when I walked in to work and sat down, I started to cry and I felt like I didn't belong because of the very feelings I had driving in to work.

Ironic. It could just be fear that I'd be rejected if I truly offered everything that I am, that I'd make people uncomfortable, etc. We've talked about this some before. But with a lot of thought about vision the last few days, I know upon reflection that that is my vision in life - to give myself away, and to create space where others can do the same and be reverenced for doing so.

I suppose that's really why I started to blog and why my blog is titled as it is. If you knew someone was really listening and really ready to hear, what would you most want to tell them, show them, be heard about? That's what I want to be in life, one of those people you would tell your story to. I'm glad to feel like I have so many good companions here - story tellers, trying to integrate lives events into some kind of narrative, a narrative that holds the bad stuff and the good stuff, and the mundane stuff and the dreams. To me, these are the best kinds of stories there are - even when the teller and the hearer know not where the stories are going.


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