However hard we shout we may not be heard, or heard the voice dies on the passing wind or bounces off some wall to be lost in the chatter of the day. So many of us shout or maintain a monotone of sad complaints against a world which seems indifferent to our plight. Too many like us, it must be said, so why should we come first or be heard amongst a chorus of complaint. Behind the cheerful buzz of magazines or love among the coffee cups many sit and wait for that one glance which says you’re understood.
“My troubles seem so small against the rest why should I even speak”. You hold that thought as years pile on the years. Brave because there is no other choice we face the world’s indifference to our plight. Soldier on or swim against the tide. If the water takes you who else will know, so lost are they in struggles of their own.
So we chatter on about our frocks or sports ;new recipes or the holidays we might have, keeping to the surface of our minds. Maintaining a brittle cheerfulness lest memory grabs our feet and drags us where unresolved issues bide their time. No grave too deep to hold their secrets from our dreams: reborn at night to mock our daily quest. Like some unwelcome butler our secrets shake their well-groomed head as we construct some glib personae to charm our changing guests.
There is another road which wise men seek. To build a faith and friends who know the worst. Talking with them can help you face those ghosts which overwhelm the solitary mind. The fear of being misunderstood can prevent us being understood at all. Escaping the prison formed by shadows from our past we can in common things: the laughter of children in the park or old people content within themselves find strength to rise above our doubts and grasp at life’s adventure once again