I came out at work last night. Well, technically it wasn't at work, it was at a local Chili's with some co-workers, and I was under the influence of a particularly tasty margarita, but I did come out about not just one but two major issues for me.
The first is one that all bloggers know well: do I let my real time world in on my net world? It's a tricky thing because there are times when the two collide and it ain't pretty.
There was the issue with the employer this past summer who threatened me with legal action if I ever blogged about him again. And then there is the issue of the menfolk in my life, which up until the past couple of months, I'd never mentioned, except for a few hindsight insights. The former was a good lesson in not blogging about the workplace in any sort of detail, and the latter I am beginning to open up around, though it is very freaky as it is my romantic relationships with men that I find the most challenging to maintain my sense of balance and well-being around.
Still, my blog for me is a kind of emotional strip tease, and I use it as an exercise in integration as I see that what I keep hidden is what controls me, and that revealing the less lit rooms in my mansion means that I have more space to hang out in, have overnight guests in, take a more accurate inventory of the assets inside.
The flip side of this is: some people just can't handle things that aren't mainstream consciousness driven. And my little blog here is often several left turns off the main highway, and doesn't exactly serve big macs and fries.
But last night I gave it up. After several questions around the nature of:
so what sort of writing do you do?
so are you published?
I have a blog, do you?
I finally casually mentioned: oh yes I have a blog, though I didn't give an address, but if anyone wants to find me all they have to do is google my name and my site pops up as #1.
The second Out issue is actually one that is more scary to me to reveal. Whenever anyone in the non-holistic world asks me what I do, I give them the stock answer: I do stress management and meditation work - and leave it at that. No one ever really asks anything further which is fine. The only problem that arises if I am around people on a regular, ongoing basis, because then it means that I have to either a) police myself so that I don't use the word *psychic* and the million and one parts of my living that are associated with some aspect of this or b) tell them what it is that I really do. Last night I opted for option b.
Co-worker's husband who had just joined our in-progress evening out: So what does that mean really? You teach? What sorts of things? Private sessions with people? What are those like?
And so I just said it: well, I do several different things - feng shui, chi gong, psychic work, classes about holistic living. . .
No one said anything, so I just turned to the woman next to me and said: so, how about you tell him about your work outside of The Hip Tech Company?
Perhaps you think I'm being overly sensitive about this. May I tell you what it's like when people hear you are a psychic?
First there is the moment that they hear the words: I am a psychic. This thing happens with their face. It shuts down like a steel trap, because in general people seem to think that being psychic means being a mind reader and their subconscious immediately rushes in to batten down the hatches. Their eyes get this hooded thing going on, and they always look away, at the floor mostly.
Second is what happens after. Some people begin to treat me like an idiot child but by far is this, which is far, far worse: they see me as the font of wisdom of the secrets to their future and begin to plug me for nuggets. And the worst part of the worst? They try to make it seem as if they aren't really asking, so its done in this roundabout way so that it appears as if one person is asking another: hey, do you know of a place where I can buy a nice ham?
My friends all know the drill. I am happy to look at things for them. All they have to ask is: will you look at something for me?
But this latter has ground my butt for years now. But I have gotten better at simply dropping it. I just smile and turn away, or say: I don't know.
The issue isn't that I don't want to help or say what I see. It's that what I see isn't a definitive answer to anything, but a snapshot of a life in motion. Someone that takes the time, effort, or money to sit with me and be real and true with it, is going to be open to actually looking at themselves and what they can do constructively with the pictures I give them. Someone who says: so, do you see anything about me? is simply looking for a quick feel good, and giving handjobs to strangers is just plain icky.
The people I work with are lovely, genuinely good hearted people. And in that moment last night I had this knowing: I can trust them to be able to handle this.
And so the strip tease continues . . .
