Warts and All- You just don't have a "Bambi" face
HER. "You always seem to have it together. Of you're always just there being cool all the time"
ME. Yeah. I'm just cool man. I don't even have to try
HER. "You just don't have a bambi face. I've never been like Bambi Joe.."
ME. You never bambi me?But I have my problems too. I also want some bambis
HER. "Gwe stop fishing for things. Me, I've told you yo just always happy and jovy (sic) "
ME. You mean jovial?;-)
"Expletive -son of an -expletive..You thin k I don't know words?Ela that's why I never bambi you. Always just there being funny and easy easy"
Believe it or not that discussion went on for a few minutes in which the words bambi , and Ela were used more times than is healthy, not to mention the several expletives that were thrown around. But that's neither here nor there, what I have been mulling over is the deeper meaning in this.
"I don't have a bambi face". I have heard the phrase a face only a mother could love, but from my brief glances into a mirror, I find what I see there adequate enough to show to the general public. And on this particular day, no hormone induced face volcanoes had made an appearance on my skin so I take it my comrades point was more than just skin deep.
Having it together and keeping my cool were always things said about me as a compliment. Also commended my ability to execute a somersault effortlessly, which is quite a feat given my considerable height, and that I am not an especially moody person.
The very same things have been said in a less than flattering manner. I recall one of my best friends saying he had never ever seen me angry. Which is absurd because he has at least on 3 occasions made me want to roundhouse kick his stomach for some sort of transgression. For some reason these words have sat with me for a long time and I think I've figured out why.
They were right.
Basically I do keep a lot of stuff within. Never wanting to burden the outside world with my inner turmoils, well except of course for this blog with which I am beating the world upside the head with my musings. Still, its not my natural response to be vulnerable. Part of it being because I am a man, and we just don't do that easily and partly because of the way I grew up.
Being a sensitive child. I was quite prone to wild flights of fancy and dreams which usually prompted chuckles form those lucky enough to hear. As time went on, I noticed that wearing my heart on my sleeve was not a good idea given just how many times it'd be bruised. I learnt that it's best to have thick skin and broad shoulders. I learnt that the bear of a man that roamed the halls of my childhood memories is what I was to be to cope. The acorn does not fall far from the tree I suppose.
Truth be told, my number one defense and refuge has always been humor. I was the one that cut the tension in the room with a quick remark, or the one being punished in class for pointing out the hilarious way in which the geography teacher had said, "The ass(Earth) is round". Life is absurd, and I just see things a certain way. It keeps me from running mad and just giving in to the several things that could make you depressed. It's allowed me to make friends and keep them, to cope with tough times and make great ones happen. It's been a loyal friend when one was hard to find.
But how ironic that irony and humor while an awesome shield for the arrows that are the vicissitudes of life, they also serve to prevent real interaction at times. They keep you from being just you. It is the lubrication of humor that eases the rough interactions of life, but sometimes, no lubricant is needed(TWSS). Some things need not a dry witty remark or a jokey attitude. I know this but have to remind myself of that. That it's easier for me to hide behind humor than to be truly sad and openly so..i suppose because the only thing worse than being sad is people knowing that you are sad, or weak or in need.
The weird thing is it's easier to be open to strangers. That temporary ear to whom you hold no accountability who will not call you later for a follow up, whose distance from your life affords them an insight you may find valuable but at the same time lacks any real context or perspective that someone who knows you would provide. I was reminded of this recently as I spoke to a new acquaintance with whom I've shared things I never have with some of my closest friends.
Much like how social media has this weird effect of making us either share way to much or construct our own persona. We put up just the right pictures and carefully select our words and page likes so that we are seen as we want to be seen not as we are.
This means that when you need a hand, or a voice to calm you or a friend to just sit with you, they probably won't know. They can't read through the perfect exterior. they will see the joy that is real, but they may not see the brief moments when the load gets too heavy. A strong man is only so because he knows where he can be vulnerable. He needs to be strong enough to change, to show his wounds. Think of the warriors of old, who wept openly and who loved passionately in between times of chopping limbs and raping and pillaging I didn't say they were perfect. Shut up!)
Let it be said. I'm happy with who I am. I like my attitude towards things and that I don't get easily flustered and am mostly self reliant. I also don't mind that this piece has the word I repeated about 50 times and is beginning to seem like something from Eat, Pray Love, but this is 'warts and all' after all. Despite me being happy with the way I am, there is always room for change and growth and I perhaps it's time for me to get a face that can elicit at least one bambi every year or so.
I'm out, bitches
ME. Yeah. I'm just cool man. I don't even have to try
HER. "You just don't have a bambi face. I've never been like Bambi Joe.."
ME. You never bambi me?But I have my problems too. I also want some bambis
HER. "Gwe stop fishing for things. Me, I've told you yo just always happy and jovy (sic) "
ME. You mean jovial?;-)
"Expletive -son of an -expletive..You thin k I don't know words?Ela that's why I never bambi you. Always just there being funny and easy easy"
Believe it or not that discussion went on for a few minutes in which the words bambi , and Ela were used more times than is healthy, not to mention the several expletives that were thrown around. But that's neither here nor there, what I have been mulling over is the deeper meaning in this.
"I don't have a bambi face". I have heard the phrase a face only a mother could love, but from my brief glances into a mirror, I find what I see there adequate enough to show to the general public. And on this particular day, no hormone induced face volcanoes had made an appearance on my skin so I take it my comrades point was more than just skin deep.
Having it together and keeping my cool were always things said about me as a compliment. Also commended my ability to execute a somersault effortlessly, which is quite a feat given my considerable height, and that I am not an especially moody person.
The very same things have been said in a less than flattering manner. I recall one of my best friends saying he had never ever seen me angry. Which is absurd because he has at least on 3 occasions made me want to roundhouse kick his stomach for some sort of transgression. For some reason these words have sat with me for a long time and I think I've figured out why.
They were right.
Basically I do keep a lot of stuff within. Never wanting to burden the outside world with my inner turmoils, well except of course for this blog with which I am beating the world upside the head with my musings. Still, its not my natural response to be vulnerable. Part of it being because I am a man, and we just don't do that easily and partly because of the way I grew up.
Being a sensitive child. I was quite prone to wild flights of fancy and dreams which usually prompted chuckles form those lucky enough to hear. As time went on, I noticed that wearing my heart on my sleeve was not a good idea given just how many times it'd be bruised. I learnt that it's best to have thick skin and broad shoulders. I learnt that the bear of a man that roamed the halls of my childhood memories is what I was to be to cope. The acorn does not fall far from the tree I suppose.
Truth be told, my number one defense and refuge has always been humor. I was the one that cut the tension in the room with a quick remark, or the one being punished in class for pointing out the hilarious way in which the geography teacher had said, "The ass(Earth) is round". Life is absurd, and I just see things a certain way. It keeps me from running mad and just giving in to the several things that could make you depressed. It's allowed me to make friends and keep them, to cope with tough times and make great ones happen. It's been a loyal friend when one was hard to find.
But how ironic that irony and humor while an awesome shield for the arrows that are the vicissitudes of life, they also serve to prevent real interaction at times. They keep you from being just you. It is the lubrication of humor that eases the rough interactions of life, but sometimes, no lubricant is needed(TWSS). Some things need not a dry witty remark or a jokey attitude. I know this but have to remind myself of that. That it's easier for me to hide behind humor than to be truly sad and openly so..i suppose because the only thing worse than being sad is people knowing that you are sad, or weak or in need.
The weird thing is it's easier to be open to strangers. That temporary ear to whom you hold no accountability who will not call you later for a follow up, whose distance from your life affords them an insight you may find valuable but at the same time lacks any real context or perspective that someone who knows you would provide. I was reminded of this recently as I spoke to a new acquaintance with whom I've shared things I never have with some of my closest friends.
Much like how social media has this weird effect of making us either share way to much or construct our own persona. We put up just the right pictures and carefully select our words and page likes so that we are seen as we want to be seen not as we are.
This means that when you need a hand, or a voice to calm you or a friend to just sit with you, they probably won't know. They can't read through the perfect exterior. they will see the joy that is real, but they may not see the brief moments when the load gets too heavy. A strong man is only so because he knows where he can be vulnerable. He needs to be strong enough to change, to show his wounds. Think of the warriors of old, who wept openly and who loved passionately in between times of chopping limbs and raping and pillaging I didn't say they were perfect. Shut up!)
Let it be said. I'm happy with who I am. I like my attitude towards things and that I don't get easily flustered and am mostly self reliant. I also don't mind that this piece has the word I repeated about 50 times and is beginning to seem like something from Eat, Pray Love, but this is 'warts and all' after all. Despite me being happy with the way I am, there is always room for change and growth and I perhaps it's time for me to get a face that can elicit at least one bambi every year or so.
I'm out, bitches
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