Promise.com

Between partners, friend, colleagues, clients and family there is always a level of compromising which is acceptable, that is how we get through our ever complicating lives; agreeing on less than we originally wanted for the sake of things that are more important to us such as love, peace and more often, a simple quiet life. But what of when you compromise what you, yourself want to be? What becomes of those that compromise the future, security and happiness of others?

There is a lot of compromise taking place around me and I am unsure as to whether it is based on the lack of acceptance or attainability. Selfishness has a part to play; it is the darker voice from the left shoulder saying “think of number one”, “don’t give in”. That is OK, if the compromise is unfair or unacceptable but when someone is in front of you, someone you have a love for, and they are stood with their defences down, hoping for honesty and trust, is it not the ‘right path to take’ and adjust your demands, perceptions or values to a more comprising ideal?

I have a dream. A life wished for and worked towards, a job which is a means to that life. I have morals and values, reflective of that life which holds me as I want me to be, a promise to myself.

Is it that others are compromising my dreams or am I? What would happen if I shared those dreams? They become vulnerable and open to further compromise by those selfish enough to try.

Second thoughts

Is there a name for those few split seconds, when you wake realising that whatever you had been dreaming about, was just that – a dream, and before you remember what is really going on in your life which causes your heart to sink to the pit of your stomach, those few seconds when you have nothing on your mind but feeling of complete peace and contentment.

Why can’t those few seconds be longer?

That moment of realisation that everything is not as it should be or that there is a big task at hand, whether a work presentation or a relationship/friendship problem, is like going too high on a swing and losing your stomach. The heart beats harder, reaching the back of your throat causing short sudden breaths.

The thought of staying under a duvet, hidden from the world is appealing. Why not just crawl under a rock until the storm has passed? Surely not everything has to be addressed and dealt with.

As the cogs begin to turn, there is hope that a new solution may be found, that the night to ‘sleep on it’ has provided an answer. Breathing slows and the stare begins, the wall becomes the visual for the thoughts being churned. Eyes stay open, fixed on a dent in the wall or a flower on the wall paper, it distorts as conversations are rehearsed and responses prepared.

The thirty minutes which pass achieve nothing other than lateness.