Thoughts on the usage of”what’s your objective opinion “

I think what’s happening when someone asks for an *objective opinion is an untethering of you, the asked, from the protection and safety of polite social niceties. You’ll notice I said “protection and safety”,not “crushing niceness” or whatever. Maybe this is key in how I think about this. Whether or not we claim to like them, polite social norms often protect us from saying what  we really think in situations where it doesn’t matter  what we really think.
When a friend asks for an objective opinion, they are asking to cut you free to possibly  hurt them. They are cutting you free from safety to tell them that their paper isn’t up to standards, that their wardrobe could use improving, that their kid is a shit, that they are going bald, or maybe they are really codependent. They’re setting you loose to give an honest opinion from your heart, and they are not saying that nothing you say will be held against you.

They’re not giving you permission to be cruel.

This isn’t coming out of anywhere in particular. Occasionally I just spend inordinate amounts of time thinking about word usage and why we think the things that we mean, may not mean exactly what we think they do. (could I have said that more confusingly? V unlikely)

I love you. Be nice to each other.
* I don’t really think there’s such a thing as a genuinely objective opinion.

Enjoy these here 🍌 🦆

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Me too. 

Two days ago when so many people stood up and said “Me, too” on Facebook, I was one of them. And then 2 hours later I took that post down. The reason I took it down is because on some level I still feel some shame or some confusion regarding some  of the things that have happened to me. So instead of explaining  that shit anymore I’m going to say this.

I believe You. 

It doesn’t matter  what the circumstances were, I don’t care if you should have been more sober. I don’t care if you weren’t as in control of yourself as you wish you had been. I don’t care if you were a sex worker and you couldn’t talk to anybody else about it at the time, and you’re still confused about it. It doesn’t matter  the circumstances were that led to your sexual assault(s). 

Me. Too. I believe you and I love you. 

Fuck nuance, fuck what you should have done differently, It shouldn’t have happened, and I believe you.

Throwing hopeful stones 

When I am in the air and you look up,  I’m thinking of you. Not *exactly *you, but someone like you. Maybe purely based on odds, I think of exactly the human you are. Stranger things happen daily,I  assure you. 

My point I’m rambling towards is this:  when I’m on a plane,  I think of someone on the ground hoping to get out of where or whatever they’re going through, because I used to be a little person  looking up at planes and jets and vapor trails, hoping someone was thinking about me. Hoping some window opened up a wider world,throwing my thoughts ( and prayers to any form of god who might pick up the signal) into the unknown blue.

I keep my heart open when I fly so that maybe (if there’s as much strange magic as I believe there is) if you think up to the sky and I think down, my open heart can catch your hopes and carry them a little farther.

You never know. 

Fact. 

There’s a possibility I cannot believe in absolute truth : There’s no book I take as gospel and there’s been next to nothing I am comfortable fully subscribing to, other than the little voice of self and whatever names I give to private gods I hesitate to call my own. 

Knowledge moves so quickly now and the dissemination of bullshit and fact at light speed. The future of faith as I  see it, is to embrace factual Flux. Keep hitting refresh.

I think.

Ask me on Tuesday. 

I’m in Banff right now, and it looks a lot like this.

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