Aloha, Cindy...

The Polka-Dots of Perception

I view the world through the polka-dots of perception. My vision is skewed as I look through the corners of my eyes, so my field is elliptical with myself behind. I realize it is me that leaves the world behind. But in my minds eye I belong here spotted like a giraffe peeking over the trees. I eat leaves and peer down then realize that I appear small to those looking up at peering down. I am embarrassed at my misperceptions of the world. As if I wore a yellow polka dotted bikini or something. Then I think I’m the purple stigma eater and try to illustrate through words my point of view. I think of stigmatism as a curse.

Something I earned through wrong action. I think I’m doing this existence thing, this road to success up and down hoping that one day to defeat how I pigeon hole myself. This self-recrimination this self-doubt. I know that I can only defeat it by reaching out. So I walk down the street covered with my spots. I’m sure that the people driving by look down on me. The ones flying by seem unapproachable on the ground. And in all honesty I only blame myself. I walk and smile to those approaching, look down shyly at aversions eye contact is not always welcome. I take on my assertions, recover and hold up my head, fight against gravity to keep my chin parallel to the earth. I go to a meeting and find community. Realize that my friends, my life is such a gift. I know that I wear the polka dots of pride. That most people are thinking about their own. I decide that maybe if I spent less time with my eyes on the sun I would see less spots. The world is so bright and beautiful. I am fortunate to have a shared home and am grateful. Errors in judgment are common. I often misjudge my potential and miss the mark. Perhaps I undershoot the basket, not stretch and extend my arms. Reach out my hand to a hug, accept willingly by giving first. If there is anyone I’ve left out today I apologize. If by chance we crossed without acknowledgement I’m sure to be the blame. And I scapegoat myself again and again as I heard once. So others blame me because I’m easy. Easy to paint spots on as I wear them anyway and a few more couldn’t hurt. So I live with my own errors in perception, my own lack of judgment. Reality is just so relative. I know that from the curved lens that I view from that if I am to erase the spots, the polka dotted with superficiality world, I must start from inside. Pop that pride and let the air out of those polka dots! Ssssss I snake away in a worm hole to the opposite side of the Universe and view through the other side. Try to see the world from other perspectives, imagine that I am perfect and all is well again. But then my bubble bursts and I’m back in my ivory group home. Hiding from the world beyond eyes. I look into the mirror horrified. The purple people eater is wearing out her friends. I lament and I’m in the dog house again.

I wag my tail between my legs and carry on. I’m such a clown. Laugh and recover yet again. I have another chance again tomorrow. To sweep up my mess and follow through and despite the jungle I will clear my way without a machete in hand. I dance on tip toe through my days of splendor. I am on the stage of perception in the spotlight of my mind.

I bow at curtain call to applause. Connect the dots, form a new constellation in the night sky and carry on. Now my spots are stars!