Sharing the Important Things

Maybe I’m getting too comfortable here. After a long conversation with a fellow in the neighborhood, rather than calling a friend, I ran to my keyboard to write about the disconnected thoughts and questions it evoked.  But quickly I began to wonder what it is about this blog that makes it the right medium?  Or even is it?  Honestly, I don’t know.

The only thing I can say is that it seems that way.

A man and woman, or perhaps young girl, crossing a long suspension bridge across mountains, with endless pine trees beneath.  It looks as though they could almost reach their feet down to brush the tops.  I found this wonderful image on Life of Pix!

It seems as though this spot is the one that allows for different levels of communication at once, which is how the conversation with the fellow went as well.  Such an interesting person who has lived so many lives and is actively cultivating yet more, which brings out my appreciation and celebration, but also I notice, my wariness.

It is actually nice to talk with a person who is at the same strange place in life as me in various ways, who is honest about how they are feeling in the world that very moment.  I’ve found that quality in particular to be a rare one: the attention span, capacity, to stay >there< with the person you’re with.  In his case, I think it matters that he doesn’t watch much television (unlike me! :), and isn’t addicted to his phone (like me!).  Not once has he reached for it in the midst of our meetings.

Our conversation even touched on how strange it is to be dating and reinventing one’s life after being so sure of course early on.  We’re both like fish used to brackish waters, with one eye toward the lively sea, but the conversation nonetheless has a habit of coming down to “Dance or don’t dance? Drink or don’t drink? Films?” Underneath everything, a fierce guarding of the individual opennesses we’ve worked and sacrificed toward.

And that’s where it keeps ending, now several meetings in, over the course of the last few years. 🙂  He probably thinks he knows a lot about me, because one picks up a lot residing in the same building for a while, but almost always I walk away feeling that I’ve ultimately shared very little of what I’d thought to at first.

And that those are pretty important things.



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