Human Nature

Originally posted January 25, 2008

People who know me have always understood that I love to talk. Communicate. Lecture, even. To say that I'm passionate about certain ideas doesn't quite sum up my intense desire to connect with someone, anyone, on a social level. There is no "putting your finger on it" exactly, but this desire may have a lot to do with my addictive nature. A close friend told me, not too long ago, that I was overstimulated - that I needed constant feedback. This statement was made as she casually observed my hungrily devouring any news pieces and interesting headlines I could find on the internet. Could it be that I fear being alone? Do I seek this stimulation because I'm bored with my then current surroundings? Most of the downloaded tidbits have absolutely nothing to do with my life, have no bearing on my day-to-day existence, and offer no positive reinforcement for my psyche. It's all just useless information from which no meaningful purpose can be derived. I'm a walking, talking, super-computer full of "Trivial Pursuit" answers.

When I was in my darkest moments a few weeks back (yep, the holidays), I picked up a book titled "Amusing Ourselves to Death" by Neil Postman. The book is subtitled "Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business". Truly fascinating is its simple suggestion (one of many) that society cannot continue in its desired community state if we don't connect with the ideas and philosophies of our current surroundings. In other words, observe and understand that which affects your life locally, rather than drive yourself mad with things and circumstances over which you have no control. It hit me, as I was reading this book, that so much of what I discuss during a casual conversation is irrelevant to the receiver of my words. Never one to gorge myself at the popular culture trough, you'd rarely ever hear me discussing anything celebrity-driven. I honestly don't care what any screen or TV artist is doing or saying unless, of course, it happens to be some prolific songwriter whose words impact my life. TV is not my bag unless I require some creative stimulation from a cooking show or do-it-yourself program (and I do find David Bromstad to be just as visually stunning as his room designs).

The recent events that have shaken my foundation and changed my intentions have also forced me to learn to listen. Opinions are harder to grasp than simple statements of fact, and I should know better than to dismiss them. What another person may believe, or feel, or comprehend is not necessarily an affront to my understanding of the world, but rather a series of cognitive thoughts which I may build upon to create a stronger counter opinion or even redirect my own thought processes. Seems simple enough to comprehend, yet lends itself to the old adage "I know you are listening, but do you hear what I'm saying?". Ahhh....you want me to comprehend, huh? I get it. And, it's high time I did.

Someone I know through myspace has lately had their life upended and is experiencing a maelstrom of pain and loss. We didn't speak about it, rather, I observed this chaos through the exchange of emails and the reading of blogs. I suggested that they let go and let the emotions carry them where needed. Forget the advice of friends, for though earnest in the telling, that advice is always clouded with selfish desires to have you return to normal quickly. Unfortunately, loss is painful and heavy-handed and unfair and draining - so why should you bounce back without reacting with sadness and anger and resentment and passion? We must learn from our experiences in order to cope. I've learned that you don't need to speak to empathize. As I said to this person, the wonderful thing about our species is that we do not have to be close in proximity or nature to understand the things that cause us all to suffer in kind. We don't need to be tactile in order to share the emotion. This is why a song, a phrase, a book, a picture, a scent even, can deliver a powerful punch to our gut and make us think of things long lost or desired.

My suffering was long and painful, and my recovery full of compromises. But my life now is more fruitful and full of love. Simple gestures leave a lasting mark where words might be fleeting. Observation through silence has been more advantageous and comforting than imparting a thought or disseminating useless information. For now, I'll sit back and observe.