Words in Context

Words in Context by Illian RainI’m posting one day and one and a half hours after my appointed time. My inner child is keening in a puddle of tears while the rest of me is standing by, arms crossed, more or less sneering ‘suck it up, sweetheart’.

First time ever—but no guarantees it’s the last.

That is a second ‘first’ where this blog is concerned—the first ‘first’ was my husband haltingly shared his uncertainty over my original post, as well as his feeling that I had blatantly crossed the line between sharing and over-sharing, between setting words and feelings on paper and over-exposing another human being.

He was not alone—in a moment of hesitation I texted him to continue the discussion begun the night before. It was a discussion I’m relieved by—there were no hard feelings or yelling or accusations, just a married couple fumbling along that line between ‘enough for you, too much for me’.

I’m not entirely certain it wasn’t too much for me too.

Given my nature I might have posted first and sorted myself out later but having another human being in my vicinity echoing my own vulnerability caused me to pause mid-flight. It also caused a putting-away of material that may or may not be revisited later on.

I am musing here, not muttering; it occurs to me that context is, once again, a crucial factor in the give and take of writing. Intimacies can be disguised within the realm of fiction, swaddled in prose and storytelling.

A revelatory blog written in the first person?
Not so much.

We handled the discussion gracefully (we won’t highlight previous sins committed on my part) and I was once again astonished by the power of words, of both the written and spoken variety.

An interesting topic is no longer remote—my lack of volubility this week is a testament to that. I suspect I will be ruminating over the nuances and implications of words and their context for quite some time.

Context appears to mean everything from where I’m standing, though I really have fuck-all clue where that is.

(And I am musing over that–not muttering…)

About Illian Rain

I write things. Lots of things.

11 Responses

  1. A dialog of understanding :-
    “Rabbit’s clever,” said Pooh thoughtfully.
    “Yes,” said Piglet, “Rabbit’s clever.”
    “And he has Brain.”
    “Yes,” said Piglet, “Rabbit has Brain.”
    There was a long silence.
    “I suppose,” said Pooh, “that that’s why he never understands anything.”
    ― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

    Thank god for those that teach us

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Difficult, isn’t it? I recently responded to a challenge involving divulging quizz results and agonized over how much of myself I wanted to reveal. Blogging puts us out there, no matter what we try to keep private. Much of who we are is also relatively obvious in what we write about and how we write about it. Our people are inevitably part of it and I guess anyone who is around a writer should know they might be exposed either as fiction or as a real person. A delicate line indeed and another post that touched my heart and made me think.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Now you have me interested. I’m curious about the indiscretion. I have trouble with this myself, not knowing how much to divulge about others, or even my own vulnerabilities. Sometimes, I’d like to write more. After all, they are my thoughts, not anyone else’s. I’m muttering now. Nice post.

    Liked by 2 people

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