You know the old saying your mum used to trot out when you came home from school, miserable, because somebody had said something mean?
“Sticks and stones will break your bones, but words will never harm you.”
Well, it’s a lie. I felt it when I was seven. I feel it at fifty-seven. It’s one of the reasons I shy away from confrontation and conflict. Words cut to the quick. My brain freezes and I retreat. People who retreat and don’t fight back are often described as spineless. I suspect that’s how some people view me. That’s their prerogative.
However, it’s not their prerogative to suggest that I have neither emotion nor compassion. On the contrary. I feel things deeply. I hurt easily. Empathy and compassion often get me into arguments. Because I always try to see the other view. And will say so. To the point that it might appear that I am defending the indefensible. I will, however, agree to differ. I will also walk away from an argument when someone is not willing to concede (not necessarily agree) that there is another perspective.
Although I often rant, I am slow to real, personal rage. There are only three occasions when I have either literally seen red or lost my temper. Once, when I was thirteen and I threw a bottle of shampoo at a wall. The second and third times were sixteen and twenty years later – at my ex.
I am now angry and sad.
Late last year, I woke to discover that I no longer had access to the Powerhouse Creatives and SteemSA discords. In the latter, I was a moderator. I had no idea why I had been booted. I reached out to the founder only to find myself blocked: on Discord, on WhatsApp, and unfriended on Facebeook. I was not blocked on Telegram, where my message was read, but there was no response.
In subsequent days a few people reached out to suggest that mean things were being said on other social media and that they were aimed at me. I had not seen the posts. Call me stupid, but I really am not good at barbs or innuendo, especially if I haven’t been clued in. Perhaps, in my naiveté, I was prepared to give the benefit of the doubt. However, having reached out and been rebuffed and blocked, I remained in the dark as to what had actually precipitated excommunication.
I was hurt and confused. This is someone whom I held in high regard and for whom I had enormous respect. A personal friend.
Anyhow, there comes a time when it’s clear that one has to quietly close the door and walk away to deal with the hurt and confusion. Yes, I’m repeating myself, but that’s how I felt. Hurt and confused. That did not stop me caring, so when tragedy struck, I did what I believe was the right and compassionate thing to do: I extended condolences.
I am glad that I did. And I am sad that I did. It unleashed a torrent and through that torrent I discovered my “sin”: participating in a fun competition on the blockchain which had emerged from her own group. When the competition “hived off” (pardon the pun) and went independent, I had no idea why. The team behind it knew of my loyalties and, like me, are not in the business of public laundry, so although they said there was a back story, did not elucidate. That is their prerogative.
What, however, has precipitated my writing this is that nobody can tell me, presume to know, how I really feel nor what I think. Nobody can see inside my head. Most of the time, and to my detriment, I wear my heart on my sleeve. So to suggest that I would go back on anything I’ve said in the past, in previous posts in my gratitude for her bringing me to, and supporting me on, the blockchain, is someone who does not know me at all.
Those words may have been deleted from the post, but they and some others, like sticks and stones, have done indelible harm.
I retract nothing I have said about 
I wish Jayne healing as she grieves. I wish nothing but the best for her and her family.
Until next time, be well
Fiona
The Sandbag House
McGregor, South Africa
In yet another aspect of my life, I offer
