Share your light!
Covering: Hiding your light, Disappearing Germans, Fear of Rejection (Part 2 of The Hotel Conversation)
Yes, last week was rather a quick list of thoughts that way I could spill my brain and hope that I cover everything that needs to be covered. There are some secrets I learned that I will not be sharing. Sorry. Then there are some secrets I will be sharing.
Soon after a round of hugs, Pat O’Bryan asked, “As my grandmother would say Why do you hide your light beneath a bushel.’” Odd thing for him to say soon after I arrive. Yet, several people have asked me similar questions lately. Like Twenty asked me on Vision Quest Radio, “You’ve got a lot going on inside, tell me some things.” Why don’t you share what is inside you. You are denying the world the story inside of you…
While I was walking Luna the next morning I thought about that repetitious statement. Then a second question came to mind. Pat and Tony Laidig asked where in Germany my dad’s family was from, yet the answer is unknown, although both families came over around the 1900s; Dad’s parents were both born stateside. They had brothers and sisters born in Germany. Grandad’s parents ran away from Germany, changed their name from Schröeder to Schrader and never looked back. Grandmother’s family claims their German heritage but not a city. Secrets hid for generations.
On my mom’s side things aren’t much better. My Granddaddy had to marry Granny in secret. His mother threw away the engagement ring. Add into the secrets, was an ongoing family tradition of meanness even hatred. When my Grandad died, I didn’t grieve for him. He was cold, and mean, but I grieved the lost connection to my Grandmother, who passed when I was little.
Then I recall that some things are passed generation to generation. Meanness and secrets. The secrets were bred from avoiding hatred and meanness. The black sheep in the family were the ones teaching openness and love.
Pat said to Tony, “I bet you a nickel she fears rejection.” In retrospect, it’s not fear of rejection for me. Rejection has become part of my life, because I was always doing things differently, partly because my brain functions differently (dyslexia). My two grandmothers debated how I sat on the floor as a 3 year old, one saying I did it incorrectly, the other saying that’s just how she sits. There are family members who think I should never date because I got a divorce. More meanness, more secrets.
I choose to write about love to fight the hatred and meanness. I choose to self publish because I want the independence to say what’s in my heart. I choose to use the writing name of Cierra James to give myself room, because it’s going to take a while to get comfortable with generations of secrets. And I choose to start being more open.
First secret: on my dad’s side, I am third generation German, in that heritage I am learning to brew beer.
Now, I ask for you to leave comments, please share with me:
What is your heritage?
What is your legacy?
How can you share your light?


MJ,
Woe…You got me really thinking there. I’m the oldest son of the oldest son of the oldest son of the oldest son of the —- well you can see the lineage growing.
My name Armando is a name generally given to military leaders. My last name Fierro means steel.
I’m not sure if there can be a much more powerful name than mine.
I’m also from the time when your parents spanked your butt (in public if need be — would even enlist the help of strangers if we got away,haha!) to get you back in line.
I was so tough when I went to boot camp I was laughing the whole time. They had nothing that would or could intimidate me.
Hell even when I went to war I had fun and joked around and laughed the whole time.
But as I’m getting older something is happening to me that has happened to all the oldest sons of oldest sons, I’m becoming a teddy bear.
I was not who I was when you met me by a long shot.
Its like our family legacy is peace with wisdom. As we grow older we become wiser and alot smileyer.
The bear that was my father growing up has become the crier with watching the Green Mile. And now I cant even make fun of him for being a sissy because I’m crying listening to the Dixie Chicks.
(of course if you tell anyone I’ll have to break your legs, haha)
Now that I’m thinking about it more I do remember that all of the older male members of our family were teddy bears. It was through them that our legacy continues.
Thanks for helping me realize that.
Love you babe
Mando
Comment by Armando — April 29, 2009 @ 10:55 pm