This May Take a While...If I Have That Much Time

"Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, 'Where have I gone wrong?' Then a voice says to me, 'This is going to take more than one night.'." -- Charlie Brown.

This happens to be a fate that I often bring upon myself...this recounting of what went wrong.  Sometimes it is what I said wrong. I am often not a smooth communicator and stumble badly over what I mean to say, getting more and more frustrated as I blabber along. Digging a hole. Not quite deep enough to hide in but plenty deep enough to still have my head sticking out to be taken off. Sort of like that game where you bash the groundhog over the head if he sticks it out of the hole. Or the shoot-the-duck game at a carnival. Me being the unlikely or unlucky duck flying by in the hail of lead shot.

A lot of times it is just a simple matter of getting in over my head. Thinking that I can handle it. Forgetting that I have no experience of a particular skill or job. Something I find myself doing often...staring from my back up at something I have no idea about under a car or truck. Trying to figure out some way to say something meaningful about an asked question where I don't feel like a clown or an imbecile with the answer. Many people can spout off anything and they are believed, they have the gift of communication right on the tips of their tongue. I feel jealous sometimes. Then they will eventually, in many cases, appear truly as an empty vessel, devout of real understanding and knowledge.

I now critically look at every thing that I hear or see. It is painful at times. I want to believe but my illusions have been so slowly shattered over time to not allow belief. I have forgotten and discarded what I once took as faith. Trashed it. Now it is overtaken by worry and stress and concern about how to dissect it for the truth. I want to so very bad believe, as a child does, but without a mind full of snake oil. Victim of a Flim-Flam Man.
Am I worried about being wrong or being found out that I am wrong by others? A fraud? My own version of a Snake-Oil Salesman? After all, don't I offer and ask often times in this Blog for you to think about deep, wondrous, troubling things? Or am I just troubling others with my angst?

The cartoon of Charlie Brown, Lucy and the football come to my mind. If I was going to kick the football and you were holding it, would justice be served if you pulled it away as I kicked it? You, being my worries. I know I have felt that urge to yank it and watch others stumble if only at times to assist Karma with a little action. It feels so deliciously wrong to think that way, yet it persists.

Destined to lie on my back and look up at the mistakes. The ones I made and the ones that are to come. *Sigh!*