Echo of a Quack

It’s a big empty auditorium, or is it? 

It’s dark and I cannot tell if the seats are occupied or indeed vacant.

So I stand much like the duck at the entrance of the valley forlornly waiting for my echoed reply.   

And then it comes…

The echo rolls back, not as a thunderous roar of disapproval, but as something different, something unexpected.

Approval comes out of the darkness.

The offered pat on the back is genuine.

Yet you struggle to accept honest simple praise…

It’s a close relative of imposter syndrome, self-effacing deprecation struggling with complimentary praise for ones’ scribbles.

Reviews were sought; opinions given and the provider individually respected.

Praise isn’t comfortable.

Collective admiration makes you uncomfortable.

You are waiting for the ‘but’

And unlike a ducks echo, it isn’t coming! 

Pride comes before the fall

Modesty MUST prevail.

Praise must be accepted and not dissected.   

We do indeed live in strange and interesting times. 

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