Listen: Soft, Quieter Voices Need To Be Heard Too

Guy Fawkes 2006

Guy Fawkes 2006 (Photo credit: Max xx)

My friend’s voice is soft, she is not a leader but a follower, I have no problem with this but some of my more straight-shooter, take control friends might. They have dominant voices, sit in attendance at board meetings, screaming, making a loud fuss about things that are important to them. Quiet people can’t or won’t do that but they still have their opinions. Louder people yell sometimes so that they don’t hear the soft voices in the background because nobody wants to speak over them.

Why should they? When they start to softly voice their concerns sometimes they feel berated. “Anyone who is scared to stand up for what they believe in is a scaredy-cat” loosely paraphrased someone said. Exhibit A. That, my friend, is a judgment, name calling.  Softer voices have opinions too but are not as equipped as some of the more confident, take charge people to talk at meetings, to make a fuss but their opinions, sometimes silently, count too. They also vote. Some people shy away from conflict, this is not a judgment call, I would call it a style.

Where am I in all this? Straight down the middle like a true Libra. Balancing each side, over and over again. Quietly. Making a huge fuss when it is important to me.  Family. Family. Family.

When my daughter was young she hid behind me and if she was shy or afraid, she would place her arms in the air in front of me and say “Up, Up” and I would lift her up and feel her body instantly relaxing against mine. Our son, the first-born,always bossed people around, he still does.  Our daughter had planned her birthday parties years in advance and stuck to each theme, always wanted to see her cake beforehand and read the last page of every book before she decided to read it. Our son loved the element of surprise, he had to be the good guy and I was always the bad guy and left rooms always trying to have the last word, saying “No more conversations, no new conversations.” Two adult children, two very different styles. I love them equally.

It took me a long time for me to find my voice, as a second child with an older sister who was very strong and bossy, (Some other people would call it overbearing.) When I was young I was shy, bashful so I can truly understand both sides. As soon as my sister went to college I found my voice and it was dramatic and beautiful and real.

Listen. Try silencing your voice and make people feel safe and don’t criticize them automatically for their fear or reluctance, I know you do it, you know it too. Not everyone is like you, though, the world is not made of people as strong as you. They need their own voices to be heard, in their own way. Sometimes with care, sometimes written, or spoken in whispers to friends who are willing to take the time to listen and not judge.

Whether you outright say it or not, people feel your judgment straight from your body to theirs, not all judgment is verbal, of course. You can feel it from someone’s eyes  or body language.  I will not judge you for hushed tones like a sleepy mouse, I will applaud you if anxiety  enabled you to speak softly about it in the first place.  We’re all just different in how we express things. Let’s try to play together, without judgment or criticism. The point is, everyone, in their own way, is entitled to be heard.

candle, candle in glass

candle, candle in glass (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Dedicated to my good friend, D.E.G.

for getting the conversation started.

(credit to above named photographers)

The Donald, Oprah And President Barack Obama

Donald Trump enters the Oscar De LA Renta Fash...

Image via Wikipedia

I am not the only one who feels stressed out. It seems the world is in a very stressful and sorry state. Not just in our country (The USA) either, it seems that everywhere there are horrible natural disasters, wars in different countries, debt, unemployment and no hope for the near future. Instead of asking President Obama for reassurance, which I am sure he would love to do if he could, I’m asking Oprah for her take on the situation. I trust HER.  Oprah is the only person I want to run for President because I believe in her. So, right now, in the middle of many world crises, I choose her. I pick her. I want her to tell us that things will work out and that the karma that really goes around comes around because unfortunately I’m starting to doubt that. I’m just not one hundred percent sure if that really is true anymore but if Oprah proclaimed it to be true, now, I would become a believer again.

I saw Donald Trump being interviewed by Meredith Viera today. I was absolutely speechless but The Donald certainly was not. Even the looks and grimaces on Meredith Viera’s face were newsworthy. She was practically spitting at him. The Donald was saying that he is pretty sure that “Barack Obama” is not a United States citizen. Again. WHY, Donald, why? You were so emphatic on the show today that even I, an avid Barack Obama supporter, started thinking that maybe there was something behind that. (Did I just say that?)

I’m beginning to fear for my brain. If I am actually starting to question my judgment about President Obama that is a very scary thing. So, I will not be listening to Donald Trump anymore (except on The Celebrity Apprentice) and I will continue to try to have faith in this Administration. It isn’t an easy job, and we know what shape the world was in when the President took office. But still… I need some answers, I need some faith, and I need some hope and the only one who could possibly do that now is: Oprah. Oprah Winfrey for President of the United States, 2012. I’m in.

Call Me One More Time, If You Dare

Voters Entering Election Booth

Image by Ikhlasul Amal via Flickr

Dear Pollsters,

I have had it with all your automatic, robotic political phone calls that I’ve been getting 4 or 5  times a day, if not more. Call me one more time and I will NOT vote. I know this isn’t a rational thought process but you should know these incessant phone calls are not only grating but disruptive.  I plan on voting so STOP calling me.  Can’t I just have a normal family dinner without my phone ringing again and again?

Isn’t there a point when even you think these phone calls are EXCESSIVE.  Do you want your family dinners interrupted by phone calls or the door bell ringing every five minutes? What if there were pollsters asking you about your favorite brand of diapers or the quality of your toilet paper?  Enough is enough. Don’t call me, don’t ring my bell. Leave me alone and let me have some peace and quiet, before I vote, and after.

Political Pop Cop: John and Elizabeth Edwards (Repost)

John Edwards official Senate photo portrait.

Image via Wikipedia

1/29/10

Come here John Edwards and your little baby too! Wait. How’s this instead? Come here John Edwards and bring your sex video tape too. Does it sound like the Wicked Witch of the West running after Dorothy and little Toto? Great, it’s supposed to. Herewith are the makings  of a very dirty, dramatic soap opera filled with love triangles, babies out-of-wedlock, political conniving, incurable diseases and a sex tape…..which are unfortunately and undeniably true. Allegedly.

I have to begin by declaring that I never liked John Edwards. I  got bad vibes from him right from the start. It was something about his slick hair and apple-polished face.  I was never a fan and can’t really say why except for something in the guy turned me off, he had a disingenuous feel about him; I didn’t trust him, nothing more, nothing less.  Later this personal  assessment was proven; this asshole decided to run on the Presidential ticket right about the time that his (as we thought then) precious wife was diagnosed with terminable cancer. Is it fair to judge his political expertise on that? No?  Sorry, I did.  The second he didn’t drop out of the Presidential race because his wife had cancer, he was lost to me. Gone. Done. No Do- overs.   I did not want a man to run this country who wouldn’t want to be with his dying wife.  Priorities. Oh, Poor Elizabeth, I tsked. Poor, poor Elizabeth. I truly felt sorry for this remarkable woman whose personal courage resonated in every part of me.  Until….

I read that Elizabeth Edwards and her dear hubby John, both used her illness as STRATEGY for his campaign.  “Let’s use your cancer diagnosis, we’ll get the sympathy vote.”( I’m paraphrasing.) What the hell? They used the “C” word, cancer,  to work for them in his campaign?   That’s low , in my opinion, not to mention tacky and heartless.   It’s enough that I never liked him but now her too? She was pushing for this strategy?  Oh no, tell me she didn’t!

This might be too much for my sensitive  soul to take. I am running on emotional disgust fumes. Don’t like liars. Don’t like manipulators.  On the other hand, I generally don’t like snitches but actually, in this case, I do. The snitches aka best friend and campaign manager, told the public, the truth. (Do I have to say allegedly again?)

I forgave Bill Clinton, I decided his private life  was his business. I wasn’t thrilled when Monica Lewinsky found foster care in  his office but I did not write him off. After all, that is one  intense family and I know there is more to it than meets the eye.  It was not my business (not that this is) and Bill was in office already when his state of “affairs” become more complicated.

John Edwards is now a new baby daddy.  I can even, somewhat remotely, forgive a mistake BUT NOT  this MANY and not with INTENT and MANIPULATION.   He blamed his “fertility” on his friend and supposedly wanted to dupe the public with a fake diaper DNA test. I don’t even know how you can do that!   Who thought up THIS storyline?

Supposedly,  disgustingly, disturbingly,  John Edwards told his lover that once his wife died they would get married and have their own family and that the Dave Matthews band would play at their wedding. Is that even believable?  Really, you can’t get lower than that. Just hearing that makes me crazy and I can’t get rid of the image in my head and I have tried really hard!

John, you blew it, big time.  Elizabeth, I still feel sorry for you that you have cancer but I would feel that way for anyone struggling with that horrid disease.   I read that when Elizabeth Edwards heard about the love child that Johnny  had with his lover “it made her throw up.” After reading about your escapades and writing about them, I know the feeling all too well. Both of you make me want to throw up.