Captivating, Communicative

Captivating:

1. Taking prisoner; engaging the affections.

2. a. Having power to engage the affections.

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This program is full of discoveries about myself.  I have discovered---again---that monthly hormones turn me into sludge.  Nothing captivating about sludge.  I have not been captivating.  I was bemoaning this sad fact out in the flower garden, swinging on the garden swing, spending a precious few moments alone, and pondering this word, feeling absolutely miserable, listless, lethargic, well, you get the picture.  Whine, whine, whine, whine....shall I go on? 

As I was gently swinging, I looked down and saw a rolypoly laboriously make his way across a decorative brick.  I remembered playing with them when I was a young girl, handling them, trying to get them to curl into a protective ball by agitating them.  I smiled at the memory and continued to watch the bug.  Then I saw a daddy long leg cross the same brick with what probably seemed like leaps and bounds compared to the rolypoly.  And then ants, skittering around on the hunt for food to feed the colony.  Then I  heard a mosquito buzz in my ear, a bee hum in the flowers all around me. 

Of f in the distance, my sister's cat was climbing a tree, harassing a nest, the mama bird squawking in a threatened panic.  There were birds everywhere, the flowers in full bloom, a soft breeze, leaves rustling in the trees, my 8-year-old son and niece around the corner laughing and squealing in delight on the trampoline. 

I was taken prisoner, completely captive in affections for all the things around me.  In a flood of emotion and gratitude, I knew I was the one held captive.  This was not what I was expecting from that word at all, yet it created something more poignant and captivating than I could ever be on my own.  In that one moment I was happy to be sludge, as long as I could be such whilst completely in the spell of the wonder about me.  For that moment I was a happy captive. 

My 5-year-old niece came bursting into the garden and broke the moment, but it lingers still in my heart.  Makes me smile.  And even now, a day later, it still holds me captive when I think on it.  What a beautiful word.  What a beautiful manifestation of that word. 






COMMUNICATIVE, a.

1. Inclined to communicate; ready to impart to others. In the sense of liberal of benefits, though legitimate, it is little used.

2. Disposed to impart or disclose, as knowledge, opinions, or facts; free to communicate; not reserved.

We have paid for our want of prudence, and determine for the future to be less communicative.

 

 

Communicative.....hmm.  I don't know how to approach this word.  Still feeling like sludge, so my communication has been limited today.  I had two wonderful opportunities to impart or disclose knowledge and opinions with my daughter and my 15-year-old son.  And I believe I communicated well.  

 

I also had an opportunity to impart what I thought were words of wisdom to my son with mental illness.  Ever had one of those days where it would just be in the greatest of wisdom to simply  tape your mouth shut?  This particular  instance spun out of control so quickly, I had to walk away.  It took me nearly 2 hours to calm down.  Granted, none of my agitation showed on the inside.  I kept all feelings contained.  Even my body language.  He has no idea I was so upset.  That's largely in due to this program and what I'm learning about myself.  Even though I am very weak in communicating with those with mental illness, I am learning how to control myself better.  Still, communication with him is nearly impossible.  I don't even know why I bother.  

 

I've even thought of setting up a clicker system with him.  1 click for "no", 2 clicks for "yes", and a serious of clicks for "I love you, but I better leave before I do something I regret."  This is the simplest form of communication I can think of.  Even dogs respond to it.  Think my 14-year-old would respond?  Probably not. That would be too easy.  Sigh.  I wish he could know that I'm trying to tell him I love him.  He doesn't understand my language, and I'm having such a difficult time learning his.  Communication isn't as easy as I thought.  I've always felt I was quite good at communicating, especially considering my love of words.  But with him......

 

A very enlightening word.  Revealed a lot about myself.