I'm surprised at myself but it's also a feeling of liberation. I'm starting to not care about my stammer. I've travelled so far with the burden of trying to climb outside of my thrownness and be a fluent speaker; I tried to escape from my own skin; I was terrified of the means by which I talked and neglected to appreciate the process of formulating a thought and being me. I cared about my stammer and I forgot to care about me.
Now I realise no matter how well or badly I express my thoughts, their value remains intact. As I stammer my value is preserved. I'm not located in my listeners comprehension of me; I am located right here in my thought and in the openness I show. Can you see me? Do you approve of me? I am beginning not to care about such things.
If I want to focus on my stammer and miss the rest of me that's a choice I can make but in no way does my own choice diminish me. I persist.
If you want to focus on my stammer and miss the rest of me that's a choice you can make but in no way does your choice diminish me. I persist.
This can lead me to loneliness or togetherness, happiness or sadness, contentment or agitation; wherever it takes me I realise now that my stammer does not dismantle me. I remain intact...