This evening I saw a film titled: “There Will Be Blood."
The protagonist played by Daniel Day Lewis, said something to the effect that he could “see the worst in people.”
I have always had the notion that until proven otherwise, people merit a chance. I harbor the believe that every single person has innate goodness, as well as a constant battle with the shadow of darkness, much like our ineradicable shadow which follows us on a noon day sun.
This concept has been revolutionized for me this weekend. I think that I will automatically revise it, to be vigilantly on guard for the worst, for the chip on the tea cup...until proven otherwise.
It came to be that I called my best friend and confidante last Friday afternoon at her home. This is the person I trusted to a greater degree with my most intimate secrets. If fact, she is the one who nonchalantly agreed to photograph me only wearing wet gauze white top, which really was a sheer excuse for clothing.
My intention for taking these wet shirt pictures of me was to send to a special someone, while he was away on one of his frequent business trips. Although I did send one of these to an anonymous soldier stationed in Iraq, to help boost his…morale.
It was actually funny that we drove to a park on a sunny weekday afternoon, and we walked far into the woods to find a secluded and perfect spot for the photo session, all the while I wore a jacket over my wet shirt.
So much trust, love, secrets, tears and laughs shared were obliterated by mere chance. These created a precious and rare mosaic shattered into a hundred pieces, which cannot be glued together again without showing a grotesque disfiguring, too ugly to hold viewing under the glaring sunlight.
This chance was due to a freak coincidence that someone pressed the wrong button on a cordless receiver and pressed speaker phone.
I know I should not have eaves dropped; it is wrong to do so, yet I was riveted to their conversation as they enjoyed their early dinner.
I know it was wrong, but remember we wrestle with the shadow constantly. I find that my curious nature can also be a handicap.
After being privy to their intimate conversation, which by coincidence detailed the contents of an earlier conversation we had sustained, I called her cell phone. In a softly modulated tone, not belying the gut-wrenching hurt, and shock I had experienced from her betrayal, I carefully enunciated each word when I told her not to ever, ever call me again.
The film I saw tonight aptly suited my mood; it helped somewhat to crystallize my general perception of people from now on.
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