One of the subjects which comes up often within a counselling session in Daniel Picave Coaching & Counselling is that people feel they have lost the ability to speak openly. We want to talk about feelings and emotions but feel too self-conscious. We fear we will be mocked or misunderstood. 
 
Within one of our sessions we look at the obstacles to speaking openly and invariably the only obstacle is an inner fear of being judged. Without honesty, we are simply treading water and when we tire of treading water, we drown. 
 
Did I speak too soon? Why are you smiling? She smiles and I melt like ice cream in sunshine. You smile and I sense your mocking. So, did I speak too soon? In that space just outside the life we lead. In that warm, subdued lit space where it was just perfect. 
 
I looked at her across the table and I spoke. I spoke with honesty, I really did because I wanted to give her that. All the time I am speaking, she is listening to me and looking at me and my words are withering as all I want to do is stop speaking. I want to fix the injustice that has her on one side of the table and me on the other. 
 
The reality of my having lived through a hundred mocking moons where she has seen so few. All the time I am speaking out loud in a hushed tone and kissing her with my eyes, I can sense you mocking. Lighting up the night sky as you do and mocking me. So, what would you have rathered? I say nothing at all? I leave the world as it is? 
 
Her in her full and structured world and me in my self indulged, word saturated, thesaurus of solitude with only magpies for chatter and the beating of their monochrome wings to fan air into my lungs? I have been looking for her, you know that. We have spoken of this a thousand times and you have mocked as again I get it wrong and begin the search again. Yes, you would have me give up and accept the congregation as my kin with the scarified tribute upon my skin. I almost did. I almost did. 
 
I know you want me to stand in your mocking light and let her pass me by. You want my days to be magpies and my nights to be you, taunting me with moonlight on seashores, silvered frost from your breath in the air as I walk from today to tomorrow, again and again and again. Maybe you will have your way and if you do, remember this, I have given you a lifetime to mock me with your moonlight, my mocking moon. 
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