Exposing the Naked Truth of Identity – NaPoWriMo – 23

One of my friends in cyberspace turns 70 today. She is another person who has a passion for writing and sharing that writing. As well as a shared interest in writing, there is a shared interest in Jungian psychology which colours a lot of what we both write. I want to take a moment here to wish her a Happy Birthday. Hear is to you Jeanie – may your health continue to support your vibrant presence in life.

Today the wind has died down considerably, a significant change from the 30 to 50 kilometres per hour winds of yesterday. The sun is shining in through our large windows and I actually feel warm, warm enough to enjoy freedom from clothing for much of the day while indoors. Going outside is a different story as the temperatures still dip below zero during the night and into the morning, rising to 4 or 5 degrees Celsius in the afternoon. Enough snow has melted to allow us to talk longer walks out into the countryside. Since our return from Mexico, walks have been shorter and confined to the village where we have to dodge large puddles and potholes.

Now, with that glimpse into our live here on the Canadian prairie, it is time to write today’s poem.

Who Do You See?

As I walk down the street
wrapped in layers of clothing
meeting people who think
they know me, I carefully
present an image of a man
that they think they know
a man with a shared past
in the community, a past
that showed a professional
version of the person
beneath the public face

It isn’t simply the clothing
that creates a barrier
preventing the person hidden
beneath from being seen.
Each of these others are
unable to see what is there
because of their own filters
and blinders that only serve
to create an illusion

Should I stand naked
in front of each of them
the truth of who I am would
still be hidden by their
own attitudes, unconsciousness
and belief systems

Should I speak words
that would strip away all
of my conscious and unconscious
masks and protective disguises
they would not be able to hear
those words clearly
hear them through the filters
of their own conscious and unconscious
protective layers

How can you see the whole
of who I am when I can’t?
If I stand if front of a mirror
naked as the day I was born
I can’t see clearly.
I am distracted by so
many years of history
complexes and voices from
both the inner and outer world
voices who seek to define
who I am.

So, who do I see?

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