Random thought #1
I believe that everything happens for a reason.
Which is another way of saying that I am (more or less) the sum of my experiences.
Which is another way of saying that the present moment is the direct result of every previous moment.
Which is another way of saying that I believe that there is something to be aware of and to learn from in any situation.
I'm usually pretty successful at deriving one or more lessons from an event in my life, but every so often something will happen that causes me to ask, "But what does it mean?" (Yes, in this respect I may resemble the double rainbow guy a little bit.)
Lately I've been reflecting on those things that happen that seem to be going somewhere but then don't and then I'm like, "Okay, what was the point of that?"
For example a few months ago I answered a community board posting by a woman who was looking to partner with another writer to learn about marketing her book through social media. I had self-published my novella not too long before that, and I was looking for a sense of support and learning community. The woman and I talked on the phone for a while and agreed on a time and place to meet. The next day, she wrote an email to cancel, saying she wanted to work with someone who already had experience in it, not someone who was just learning it. Hmph. Fine. But so then what was the point of my stumbling across that message board and getting in touch with her?
Another example: On our walk a few days ago I had stopped to let Milton (the dog) sniff around in the grass. I looked up and saw this jogger in blue in the distance. Tall, thin, blonde, male. As he approached I worried that Milton might think the guy was running at me and try to attack (as Milton has done before), so I stepped off to the side and tightened my hold on the leash. Looked up again as the jogger passed. Handsome face, maybe late 20's/early 30's. I flashed a tight smile. His eyes sparkled at me, and he said, "Mornin'" in a velvet, husky voice that might've held a trace of Southern accent. Oh my. And then he was gone. I remember thinking that if I were to wake up to those eyes and that voice, it'd be the best part of my day.... And? So what? How the hell does it help me to know that?! Sigh.
Yet another example: Have you ever had that experience where you meet someone and feel really, really connected to them? You "click" right away, and maybe you're thinking, This person and I are destined to be friends/spirit animals/lovers/life partners. But for whatever reason, nothing comes of it. You call or text or email (or all three and then start to feel self-conscious about maybe looking a bit desperate...not that I have done that *cough*), but there's no answer. Or maybe the answer is "Hey! I'd love to see you, but I'm really busy right now. Maybe after x, y, z?" And then x, y, z happens and you don't hear back, and then you realize they said "maybe," and what the heck does that mean? Why maybe? We're supposed to know each other and share wonderful, deep, spiritual connection! you want to shout. But it wouldn't do any good 'cause they're nowhere to be found. Plus it would be really embarrassing.
Random thought #2
James W. Pennebaker's book Opening Up: The Healing Power of Confession talks about the effects that confession has on the confessor, namely improved emotional and physical health. But what effects does it have on the person on the receiving end of the confession? I know what writing creative non-fiction does for me, but what does it do for the people who read it? Do they too feel opened and healed?
I'm thinking about the creative non-fiction class I took in the spring and this sense of closeness, acceptance and knowing we (the students) had about each other, even though we didn't know many of the things that people usually know about their friends or acquaintances: ages, broad strokes life history (rather than the moments we chose to write about), what we did outside of that classroom. But we fell in love with each other. Not the yucky, needy, "I want something from you" kind of falling in love. The "I witness you and think you're beautiful and
care about your well-being" kind of falling in love.
My mom has said she notices that phenomenon too with her non-violent communication practice groups: the members fall in love with each other because they are open and vulnerable with each other.
But the falling in love comes as a result of being shared with, not of sharing. Do psychologists regularly fall in love with their patients? Do readers fall in love with authors? It doesn't seem likely. But then what is the effect?
To Random Thought #1: It sounds like you experienced a sort of mini-loss in the scenarios you described. Loss of anticipated pleasure, income, relationship, meaningful work, a hot date, an opportunity. Those incidents left in you a drop of longing, frustration, or even sadness, if not just a teeny tiny drop. To your puzzlement I offer one woman's perspective: A bit of suffering reminds us that we are alive, human, and ready for more action. We're not going down without a fight. Our emotions have indicated that we are drawn to something, and if we can't have it that time, that way, we could still KNOW in our gut that we don't need to give up on what we are drawn to in all senses of the word, because THOSE are the things that define our personhood and bring us the feelings that define a real, ALIVE experience.
ReplyDeleteTo Random Thought #2: I fell in love with John Irving in my late teens and early twenties for his imagination, his humor, his characters and his craft. His stories seem to contain a lot of confessionals, mostly about what it was like to be a boy, young man or 'grown' man for him. His stories are all about longing, loss and tragedy, but the humanity and loving goodness of his characters always come through in the stories, which gives a home to his tremendous sense of dark comedy. Food for thought...