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Said By Silence
This entry is for Paintbrush, who knows why.
As some of you probably know, there is a category entitled ”culture shock” on this website. Given where I’m (geographically, socially, emotionally) living right now, I had hoped it would be an a topic actively explored topic in my writing.
I still have that hope. But if I’ve realized anything this week, it’s that culture shock is not really a concept that can be examined or analyzed. Or, perhaps more accurately, it is not a concept that I can personally examine or analyze while simultaneously living through it. Because for me, culture shock is a state of emotional being—a state when the most flexible and accepting parts of my mind and heart have retreated into that silent inner space that is beyond the reach of anyone or anything beside themselves. Culture shock is when I am quick to judge—when I recognize that I am quick to judge, berate myself for doing it, and then do it anyway because it’s too hard to be open-minded or understanding or tolerant. Culture shock is when I stop acting and start reacting.
Some, I dare say many, people have no problem sharing accounts of their reactive days with other people, whether online or off; I am not generally one of them. This is partly because my first reaction is to keep such things hidden in that silent space and curl up in bed with a book instead. It also has to do with my assumption that all crappy moods will eventually pass. But mostly, I don’t write because I know I am reacting and not thinking, and that is generally a waste of bandwidth.
It is my nature, when choosing between silence and drivel, to choose silence. I also prefer to attempt being fair and fail, rather than being unfair and not caring. So, on days when I am reacting to my situation instead of acting within it, and I know that I’m doing it, chances are slim that I will post here. I would rather that this website be a place for me to reflect thoughtfully upon events afterward than vent quickly and leave themes unexamined. Wandering from event from event without an understanding of lessons learned is considerably more frustrating than wandering slowly.
There is, of course, a price to that. But I think I’m willing to pay it.