Shelly McNamara

Open Hearts. Open Minds. Build Connections That Heal the World.

Walls

Your Lens Never Expanded

By

Our lives become the lens we look through
The lens we live through

I see your gifts – your potential
You see my gifts – my uniqueness
Or do we?

You seem to fear me
You seem to judge me
You see and experience me as an “other”
Deserving of treatment that is  “less than”

Is it that your lens never expanded
Beyond your narrow world?

Can you see me for who I truly am?
Can you see beyond your narrow world?

Or is it that I can’t see beyond mine?

Limits

By

Who put limits on you?
Where did they come from?

Self-imposed limitations
Born in a culture
Fueled by a shared culture

Do your lenses trap you?
Does your culture trap you?
Limitations we accept as givens
Limits we can’t seem to release

Looking Beyond

By

Victims of an insensitive world
A world that can’t look beyond
Skin, religion, or facial expression

A world in which some are granted entitlements
While others are granted little but the basics to survive

Yet, here we sit – the innocence still remains in ways unseen by so many

We are all connected as human beings
If only they’d look beyond and try to understand

Can You Let Me In Now?

By

Time passes
Life passes
Why focus on things that bring distance between us?

I pass by you daily
Do I see – acknowledge – and celebrate you?

Do I judge what you are – who you see – and how you look?

Our lives have kept us apart
My judgment has kept us apart

I am older and wiser now
I see you so rarely
I wish to see you more

I long to share a moment with you
If only to share a smile – or word of advice
Or maybe a tear for all of the time and
Pain that has passed

I once passed you by with only a frown and a scorn
As I judged what you were
Who you saw – and
How you looked

If only I had known what is so clear to me now
All of those years since past

Can you let me in now?

We Build Walls

By

I worked with Heather in the mid 90’s.  She was young, in her early 20’s.  Just ten years her senior, I was a relatively new manager.  We were both early in our careers, eager to learn and grow.  We worked hard, and laughed even more.  We delivered some great work, and had fun doing it.

I taught Heather the fundamentals of Training & Development.  She crafted masterful powerpoint presentations, and patiently coached me on my (sad) technology skills.  She openly talked about family, friends, and her new boyfriend.  I talked about my family back in Cleveland, and the few friends I had made since moving to Cincinnati.  There were awkward moments of silence when she sought to learn more.

At 32, I had mastered what many LGBTQ people learn as a necessary coping mechanism.  I kept my personal life private.  I shared little and listened a lot.  I hid my then 12-year relationship.  Hiding and covering was the easy choice.  It was also the costly choice.  Heather talked about her plans – they were moving to Florida. She finally turned to me and began asking more probing, direct questions about me, my life, and my future.  I  told her that I had a more expansive life than she knew.  I had a life partner.  We had a home.  We had plans and dreams just like her.  I saw the sadness, and confusion in her face as she calmly asked me  “ Why didn’t you share this sooner?  Why didn’t you trust me? Why didn’t you let me in?”    The long conversation that followed didn’t relieve me or her of the loss, the pain felt deep within when you know that you have missed something you can’t ever get back – time, relationship, and connection.  All lost because I chose to hide behind the wall that I had built to protect me. I learned.

We Build Walls

We build the walls around us
To keep out the few
Yet we lose the many

She spoke the words – this time I heard them differently
I felt them differently
The pain struck deep into my heart

You see, I built the walls around me
To keep out the few – the judgmental
I lost the many – the loving and caring

I regret the loss
I grieve the loss
It’s become all too familiar
So, who am I protecting?

The pain of missing a friendship we could have had
Yes, it’s all too familiar
And that I regret