I had this conversation that really disturbed me recently and I have been thinking about it for probably two weeks now, trying to resolve what it all meant in my head, but it really really hit me today. It came when someone I was pretty fond of told me he didn’t feel the need to contribute to humanity. And I kind of recoiled like, wow, how insanely selfish can a man be to not even feel a sense of responsibility to anyone but himself, at all? He told me every day felt like Groundhog’s Day, and I recognized what he meant, in theory, but it is not the life I lead. He said his life was grey, there was no black, there was no white, there was no color. He said he needed to go take his money and find some color, I guess you could say, in world experiences. He had been working for some 14 years or something like that, without a vacation. He did travel to some places for work, but he had not taken a vacation anywhere else besides locally pretty much ever. I am under the impression he had at least one meaningful something where he left his home to go live with someone, but he seems unimpressed by people at large. He clearly has no sense of purpose beyond gluttony. Interesting. Maybe I will have to write a piece on that sin (shh, contest I am thinking of entering).

I think the thing that he doesn’t get is that expecting your life to be grey and shutting yourself out of experiences, reflecting on life as Groundhog’s Day, seeing life in only shades of grey basically predicates that this is all you will get out of life. What you expect is what you get and recently I have come to understand this in some ways I really need to invigorate into practice. I wonder if he realizes this…or maybe he just wants to actually open his eyes up to this reality only once he leaves. Though there are certainly parts of my day which might be similar in terms of certain routines established (My Devil’s Food run, for example), I always try to change it up–I go earlier, I go later, I walk down a different road, I go to a different destination. If I see something I want to do, I will do it, forget having any person to justify going–I follow my heart and eyes…

Saturday I took myself to the Botanic Garden. Then I pedaled down to Wash Park and hung out on a ledge. And then, because I am a sucker for sparkly things (like fireworks), I decided I was going to go use that Stein again I got last weekend when I went to Oktoberfest with Brenda the day we went to go audition for Survivor. (oh, no, I did, never really having watched the show at all). Oh wait, I didn’t say anything about that. There ya go. Lesson learned. Auditions with no idea of what one might say while pretty intoxicated? Not cute. This was before noon and I had quite a bit of vodka. All pretty funny…

I was riding in on the train last Saturday, my face plastered to the window during that time of night when the sky is on fire. One man sitting across from me said, “Not a bad place to live, is it?” as he got up to exit the train a few stops in. That stop another dude got in and I could kind of feel him staring at me as my face once again was plastered to the window, clearly appreciating. He said, “That, that is why I love it here. I was born and raised here, and I would never leave that,” pointing his fingers as we both looked out the window.

Yup. That was my conversation for the whole rest of the night, aside from a drunken collision with a group of girls and guys in their late thirties who tried to absorb me into their group. But I have this thing. They call it the, what, Irish exit? I leave. I know when I am done, and that’s the way it goes. It’s usually one of those things I try and recognize in the middle of the moment things are starting to get whacky or uneven. I was alone, and certainly nobody was there to ensure I was not going to get taken advantage of or not need to have the guard entirely up, so it was my only reasonable option. I was definitely feeling pretty invisible, though.

This of course is clearly the problem in such a circumstance. Freedom allows movement through any kind of crowd. But not just movement, active participation. I had gone as an observer so why was I so upset I was alone? I didn’t even put myself in a posture to meet anyone, but I get all fussy because I really didn’t. Because I am sometimes ridiculous. This can happen to the best of us.

The reasoning really is pretty simple despite whatever initial intentions I thought I should have. I need people around me. You can learn quite a bit by just opening up your eyes, actually try seeing, but also there is stuff you can see with the assistance of the context of words, of communication. I have learned more about life by interacting with people and showing people my love and friendship in ways which clearly define good reasoning. I always followed my heart, and though clearly it’s got its own little issues I never did anything with any ill will, intent nor usually outcome. Every man I have been involved with seriously since 2000 I can call and consider a friend. And that has been since 2009. The involved with seriously part anyways. Yeah, I am one of those ex-boyfriends are friends girls. It just means when I connect with someone it’s usually for a good reason…and breakups, though not always easy, end up amicable either way.

I do feel like I have been able to touch a lot of people and communicated with so many, put myself out there in ways most people do not. How many of you have ever wandered around by yourself, involving 90% of your social activities with absolutely nobody you know? I do that. I go out to dinner alone, to the movies, to anything really. And I love it sometimes and sometimes I miss that nudge towards somebody to see what I see, that moment where you meet someone’s eyes and no words need to be spoken because what you are seeing says it all for you. Those zing moments, where another’s eyes justify the acknowledgment of the beauty?

Trying to understand people, and making connections are where salvation is. Helping people in circumstances less fortunate than you is the one way you can surgically implant an I give a shit about other people sliver of humanity. I think that volunteering should be mandated, especially if you are voting on an issue that affects those in circumstances less fortunate than you. There is no personal connection, everything is done electronically these days, communication is largely lacking, intonation is entirely missing. I appreciate it for my ability to spin my webbed little tentacles across miles upon miles of internet connections and all of that, but I need a healthy balance of real air and real things instead of postage stamp-sized representations which could only dream of being actual stand-ins.

I want flesh and breath and sound and eyes. I want people in front of my face, because this whole internet world is clearly voyeuristic, but there is nothing that can replace the actual experience. The internet will put you into casual contact with those you might not ever come into contact with normally (hello internet dating/err friending, by the way). But if you are not nurturing your friendships, you are missing out on certain in person components that make humanity that much more enjoyable. I do my best every single day to put myself in the path of as many different people as humanly possible…I like people, and though some of you really need lessons on heart and living an honest and true life, I like the stories and experiences I expose myself to because I am unapologetic and will try just about anything (save hard drugs or anything that could hurt me or anyone else) at least once. I see the value in connections, human relationships and community. I am the type of person you’d want to have around in chaos. I try to see and bring the light into everything I do. I am the woman standing on the corner looking up at the sky with a smile spreading, flying around Wash Park on my cherry red Schwinn Typhoon, wandering around all manner of event, even if just by myself.

This actually brings me to something interesting I was responding to regarding someone’s email to me after perusing this site…and I recognize something very clear and evident about you guys who come here poking around. I see your traffic, silly men. I know I have some. I don’t know who you are, but I know you come here. So why so quiet?

I tend to assume it’s because you all have some issue with your own mortality and therefor sacrifice your own moments. Mortality is tough, and I was happy someone said to me the other day, “oh what, whatever, these aren’t men.” You cannot predict anything, no matter how much you try. I am actually a pretty healthy girl given the circumstances. I bike several miles a day, I do yoga almost every day. I am not obese. I eat well…I might even beat some of you cookies when it all comes down to it–my heart surgery is all behind me, and when your turn comes down the line here in 10-20-30 years I can sit back and say, “eh, open heart surgery? Old news…”

That’s the fantasy anyways.