fragments

O wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us! - To a Louse, Robert Burns

On this, my 100th blip, I thought I'd reflect a bit on my blipping. What I'm wondering is whether, blip by blip, a picture is emerging of the type of person I am. More interestingly, I'm sure the picture people have of me bears little relationship to the picture I think I'm painting of myself.

There are so many little fragments of ourselves. Can they really be pieced together to make a mosaic of who we are?
There are the fragments we show to the world.
Fragments of our inner desires.
Fragments of our actions.
Fragments of what comes out our mouths.
Then there are the fragments of others' opinions of us. Stories people tell about us, witnessed or otherwise.
Fragments of kind words, the loving actions of others and their effect. These may even brighten some of the other fragments.
Fragments of intimacy. When the inner life dares reveal itself.
And so many more...

Put these together. Can we arrange the mosaic to create a picture, or is it for other people to piece it together? Is there really only one picture of ourself to be made of all the little fragments, or does the picture change with each encounter? Each of us our own artist of the other.

Maybe it is enough to be a thousand little fragments, to be put together moment by moment. Sometimes it will make a picture, other times just a scatter of fragments. So, we are not who we think we are. There is something joyous and reassuring in that. Change is constant. The fragments dance in the hands of the maker.

Onwards.