“If you don’t want to know the answer don’t ask me the questions," she says smirking.I put aside my chopsticks and stared into her blue eyes, wondering how true the statement she just uttered rang. In a world where superficial statements are gilded by pseudo-self reflective pronouncements, I was taken aback by the sheer frankness of her words. People don’t speak like this. In interviews, on dates, in many other social encounters, we are asked to present ourselves, “Who are you?” However, instead of presenting our authentic selves we follow the prescribed script of rattling of insipid facts. Resulting in two individuals, one hour later, no closer to closing the chasm that is the self. She however, bucks that trend. The conversation was thoroughly one-sided. I, pitching prodding question after prodding question and her attacking them like softballs.We spoke of the past, the real past! The past that actually can define you! Music preferences followed a comparison of therapy notes. I enjoyed every minute of it. As the conversation progressed, it felt as if the table separating us shrunk.
There was truth in her statements. Truth that typically is impeded by our general lack of humility. In public, we must present ourselves as strong and impenetrable. However, a reticence to speak about a perceived imperfection is weakness. I believe there is strength in humility and strength in vulnerability.
I recently read a book concerning introverts. I’ve always considered myself one and I wanted to understand, at a deeper level, what that meant. Specifically, I was interested in a conversational proclivity that I couldn’t seem to shake. I cannot engage in small talk. I have been told that it is the foundation of building rapport. However, I am utterly disinterested in any form it takes. I don’t watch much t.v., I listen to obscure music, and I am a pop culture pariah. Needless to say, I don’t make much of a house guest. But, ask me what drives me or tell me what drives you and I can come alive! I want to know what keeps you up at night before you tell me about the best show on Netflix. Sometimes I find comfort in these facile conversations, as we all do. It’s very easy to go on autopilot and talk about music or movies. I am at no risk of offending someone due to my penchant for low budget indie films and my love of Japanese anime. However, If I tell you I believe in the redistribution of wealth or that I wept while listening to the post-hoc justification uttered by Bob McCulloch for a decision he had previously made, you make take offense. You may not like me, and don’t we all want to be liked? I disagree, I think our biggest goal is to be understood and to understand. I know that’s one of mine! So I’ll begin to hold steadfast to that. Maybe i’m not ready to commune with someone over coffee and tell them that perhaps the past isn’t the past; all the time, and that it sometimes manifests itself in cigarette buds and words solemnly scribbled in red notebooks. However, maybe I can tell you about my dreams and aspirations. Then after, we can talk about our shared love for the 1975’s.
