This Is What A Bear Looks Like…

This is not an image of a bear. But it is an image of me.
© Thann Clark

Were you expecting a snarling grizzly?

Surprise.

You shouldn’t be.

I am many things.

A person with diabetes. A protective mother. A starry-eyed spouse. A goofy friend. An enamored daughter. An enlightened consumer. An avid collector of black boots.

I share my personal experiences and opinions on my blog about diabetes – and other things, including my strange taste in music and bad movies. People seem to like what I share, so I keep on. I may pass along links to websites that could provide helpful information to others. On occasion, I will throw a statistic or two. (My math skills are horrendous; I’ve made no bones about it. You can thank me for not accepting offered entries to several universities for engineering. Think power grid failure on a global scale because of me. You’re welcome.)

I might even give a fact when the mood strikes. If the facts I do share are incorrect, I will do my utmost to rectify my error immediately. And I have in the past. I hate making errors. It frustrates me as a perfectionist.

I am a perfectionist.

(Check the name of my blog if you’re unsure. You may think the title is facetious, but it’s really not.)

If I share facts verbally in an open forum, I expect that a rational individual would politely refute my statement, publicly or even in a private conversation at that forum, so that we all are on the same page. If I share them in writing, all that is needed is a simple email as to how I erred and what needs to be corrected.

I was recently on the receiving end of a few emails of rhetorical, slightly accusatory, and persnickety questions, based on an error made in a statement that most of “my constituents” would even know about, because I will never mention the name of the company again in public or in writing.

That individual wrote that:

I am a reporter.

Then in the next email response, I was “downgraded” to writer. (Not sure why that would be perceived as a downgrade. I certainly don’t think so.)

Then the individual, in the final email to me, decided on telling me that:

I am an editor of information. (Implying that I pick and choose to bend my words and facts to create an illusion of what I think is true.)

I am none of those.

I am a storyteller.

I weave words together to envelop those who want to read what I have to say. When I am wrong, I pluck the malfeasant phrase out and still keep that blanket of a tale together. I admit when I am wrong. I do not appreciate those who attempt use my blanket to create a tent for their own camping excursion. Because you know what you can find in the woods?

A bear that does not like to be poked.

 

0 comments

  1. heather.G

    I have read some dream analysis books that claim that the presence of a bear in a dream symbolizes conflict. I never really clicked in and understood it until now. You are a more than fantastic storyteller and don’t need snarky words and vile energy sent to you. Let your bear out.

  2. StephenS

    I don’t really know you, but I already get the feeling I wouldn’t want to tangle with you. Pity someone else doesn’t understand that yet. I suspect you will, or have, set them straight.

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