Of concealed truths

But for all the modesty of her spreading skirts, the demureness of hair netted smoothly into a chignon, and the quietness of small white hands folded in her lap, her true self was poorly concealed.

This sentence from Gone with the Wind is riveting. How crucial it seems to be able to strike a balance between what you are, and the effect that you tend to have on people. When someone is called charismatic, it is perhaps because they have reigned in their public image to match the way they relate to themselves. Their words seem to sparkle with integrity… and who doesn’t like a person who comes across as honest and warm? This is the missing piece to complete most people’s quest for self-awareness, I believe.

For me, the Johari Window tool came in rather handy in my journey. Not a journey that is coming to close any time soon, I can assure, but boy am I glad that I’m on my way at all.

I believe we all start at square one, tagged ‘Unknown’. We don’t know too much about ourselves because we haven’t given it the privilege of thought at all. And probably because we are lacking initiative or self-esteem, we don’t put ourselves out there either, under the social scanner. Sure, we might seem mysterious, but only if anybody cared to take notice at all.

For me, I believe that I spent much of my adolescent and early adult years in the Blind Spot. While I was rather sociable, I barely realize the effect that I had on people. When people tried to tell me, I would brush it off as if it were an overdone compliment, or I would find myself pretty surprised. “What! You guys thought me intimidating? But, I’m harmless!”- that’s such a classic ‘me’ quote.

And then, I believe I slipped back into the Unknown for a while again. It was dark, and that’s about when my passion manifested itself as all that pain-in-the-rear angst. It’s hard to stay in this region for too long; well, at least for me. I am not intimidated by finding truths, given my curious self. I am an explorer by nature, and stagnancy has never really come my way. Touch wood?

However the next time I moved back into the Blind Spot, some very nice people in my life took the effort to help me confront it. To say the least, they led the horse to the water. Funnily, the horse spent quite a while simply look at its reflection.

The Hidden Area is probably the thicket that one must journey through by oneself. It’s dark and skeletons unexpectedly fall out of the spooky closet, and monsters sometimes nip at your feet when you are saying your prayers before bed, but boy is it worth showing the courage to turn the lights on. You realize that it was all an intricate joke that you set yourself up for- at your feet was a stray cymbal-ramming wound-up clockwork, and what fell out of your closet was just an elaborate thingamabob that would be perfect to hang up in your living room. You really never had anything to hide, and that’s when your public persona shines through. Self-actualized, some might call.

If you ask me, that’s a pretty apt name, likening the model to a window- a window into your soul, perhaps?

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One thought on “Of concealed truths

  1. Pingback: Having My Moment. | Risk-taking. Soul-sailing.

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