Midnight Musings

It's a funny thing. I know, they're not called compartments; they're called chambers. (How old was I when I first learned that? Do I care?) Palaces have chambers. Judges have chambers, too. There is a judge here named Chambers but they call her chambers her "office" at her request. I suppose it's not very funny if you have to deal with it on a day to day basis. It's like the Cape May Courthouse courthouse or the North Branch branch of the Red Bank Bank - both of which, at this writing, actually exist.

But the emotional heart has compartments. Not everyone realizes that and not everyone who realizes it can take advantage of the fact. Why am I saying this? Because I have two very complicated friends. I don't know how complicated they, themselves, are, but their relationship is a whole blog unto itself. I met them as a couple and really only spent much time with one of them. Recently, I've spent more time with each, both separately and together. Occasionally they will talk about a conversation they had with each other and that's the funny thing. To see the one person through the eyes of the other and then be able to put it aside for your own view of that person is strangely fascinating. I can't possibly see all facets of another person or even all the facets someone else sees. It's unfair to make judgments based on something someone else sees. (Now *there's* a revelation. If I looked through your eyes at the color you call green, would I see the color I call pink?) So I continue to hold my view of the person based on what I alone have experienced with them, while musing over - or ignoring - what I've been told. It's the fairest plan of action and, since life isn't fair, it's my duty to do things right if I want to have a say.

My, but I'm high up in this ivory tower.

'night.