Real: n.--the state or condition of authenticity. syn.--genuine, without pretense; ant.--counterfeit, facsimile, facade. (Note: my definition, not Webster's.)
So what set my mind in motion on the subject of "being real?" I have not a clue, though it was a sunny day. Where my mind goes, your mind comes along as well, if you are prone to reading these entries, so here we go.
In the 80's my son worked for a well-known pizza company whose claim to fame was its use of real cheese. Who even knew there was fake cheese? That was one of my first exposures to the world of artificialdom which has escalated to the present, a world where things are not as they seem to be. They aren't real. I recently had a CD made of several piano renditions. The end product is not real. I did not play the music as mistake free as it sounds. The producer repeatedly told me that this is how CDs are made. In that world it's called editing, a process where notes are moved around, where time between notes or phrases is either squeezed together or lengthened. Photographs are manipulated, music is electronically contrived, accounts of current events are distorted, and we aren't even aware it is happening.
Even though the physical world we live in is filled with everything that is fake I hold to the importance of being real as a person. What do I mean by that? I am of the belief that each of us began our lives in that state of being real. Over time that authenticity was compromised. Perhaps it was a parent requiring us to say "I'm sorry" to a sibling when what we felt was anything but sorry; perhaps it was a teacher expecting "good" behavior in order to maintain order in the classroom; perhaps it was a spouse or friend asking for a concession that was given in order to maintain the peace; perhaps it was a minister suggesting punishment for misbehaving. As the mother of four children, I'm all for getting along. What I am talking about is compromising myself, how I feel, and what I think in the process until I no longer even know how I feel or what I think. I don't even know myself.
A person who is real in your life is like money in the bank. They say what they mean and mean what they say. They do not sugar coat, they won't tell you what you want to hear just to be "nice." Their emotions, reactions, and responses are valid; they don't play games with people, emotional or otherwise. They will never try to control another but offer guidance, leadership, and support. Support from a real person is beyond measure. You always know where you stand with this kind of a person. There's never any doubt or question.
The facades and layers that build up on us over our lifetime take some time to peel away. Layer after layer must be taken off until the real me (or you) is uncovered. For me, it was a discovery of sorts, becoming acquainted with the person I really am. It was unnerving at times, because I didn't know who or what I was going to find or if I would even like what I found. I have found the child within me, the 5-year-old who loved life, was outspoken, and who drove her parents up the wall with her inappropriate questions. I loved being that little girl! For me the end result was well worth the process. I like the person I have found. It is a place and a state I highly recommend.
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