Everybody has a story. And, as I get older (and wiser), I “see through” pretentiousness. At least, I THINK I do. And that is all that matters. To me. Haha. I am beginning to see that when people choose to be pretentious, it is mean to people that are not worthy of the presentation or just “LEFT OUT”.
Stories vary, according to the storyteller. And, I have heard some doozies. The “spin” is all over the place, and I want to say, “Wait a minute, didn’t you just say…….” I don’t. I just let them go on while I smell something fishy. It has nothing to do with truth. This week, a friend of mine died. You should read the memorial that was written. I could not believe what I was reading. Because I was there. I know a lot of the truth. But the spin was interesting. Most of what was left out. Was that mean to those who were omitted? Was it intentional? I don’t know.
I am finding that ex-pats (expatriates) in France – or anywhere – have reasons why they are ex-pats. You should hear some of the spins I hear. It always makes me wonder why I am an ex-pat. What is my spin? Oops. What is her spin? What is his spin? Oops. If someone is on Facebook, you can get an idea of spins by reading what is really going on by the memes and posts they choose to post. Otherwise, you are on your own with conversation topics and the presentation of a person’s lifestyle. Is what they are saying in keeping with their choice of apparel, how they look, where they live, what they are eating for lunch, and such. I do it – study spins – because I enjoy it. I like truth, and I like for a person to try to tell the truth or try to tell accurately the facts. Maybe there is no truth because facts fluctuate.
And then there are the political spins in ALL countries. But that is another whole “ball of wax”, as my grandmother would say……… I call it “propaganda”.
It is all exhausting.
Yesterday, I went to my favorite restaurant for lunch. I sat in my favorite corner, against a velvet curtain and the wall. And, while I was there, I watched an old lady (I am probably older than she was). She was walking with a gorgeous cane. Her hands shook as she held the menu. Her hands had diamonds on her fingers with gold bracelets on her arms. Before she ordered off the menu, she asked (in French) the server to straighten three pictures on the wall. I did not understand the French request, but the server straightened three framed pictures. I saw the owner of the restaurant see the server straighten the pictures and ask a question. After the pictures were straight, the lady ordered lunch with Pellegrino water. She did not order the special of the day. I did. After a dessert off the menu, she was finished.
I left before she did, but I knew that – with all of my problems and my spin (which changes every time I speak), I am better off than she is. My hands do not shake when I hold a menu. My cane was furnished by a hospital in Nice. I have diamonds that I chose not to wear for security reasons. I don’t like bracelets. They bug me.
So, I have NO answers. Just a lot of questions. So, I will leave you with a poem that I got off Facebook that I like. A LOT. Many thanks to the original poster – a friend of mine.
In the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love.
In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile.
In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm.
I realized, through it all, that…
In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.
And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.