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Twitterspawn
Jan. 20th, 2011 09:49 pm Tonight I wrote this <i>I also think I like/want to be myself with much more depth&complexity than any other person is capable of. I used to fear this.</i>
That's the limit of twitter's 140-character thing.
What did I mean? I meant that when I was twelve, or fourteen, or nineteen, there were certain things that I held in esteem in people. I prized people who were able to throw off the chains of social conformity and stand out from the crowd. I valued turning the searchlight of intellect on something and reducing it beyond its component parts. I worshipped independence, but-- it's not something I wanted for myself. I hadn't yet experienced being close with someone, not really.
I may still not have, depending on how close we want to talk about and how much you need an "I" to be close, but I have more breadth of experience from which to draw now.
I feel like I'm a much more distinct shape than I used to be. I have more presence in the world, I'm more solid, less defined by who is looking at me or in what context I'm seen. This is not to be confused with constancy because my life remains a whirlpool of change, but the "me" that drives it all casts a larger shadow.
Oh, I never can put this into words.
So now that I'm less worried about individuality, about the actuality of <i>being</i>, I spend more attention on the quality of being. But-- this comes only because I have achieved my individuality more than I ever dared dream I could. I walk the web nowadays, my life is a mesh of interconnected warmths and caretakings and givings and love. When I was nineteen, this would have seemed hopelessly insecure, to live this way without nailing things down. Now I slake that insecurity with habit-- with watching West Wing with Michael or Burn Notice with Andrew, texting Angus to say I love him, taking myself to a restaurant if I need. I give myself routine and challenge and care as I need them, and it is more than enough most times. I don't need some other human always there to lean on or to even tell if things aren't going well.
So now I'm worried about the quality of being, and it's people who live well that I find myself drawn to. I like people who can successfully navigate social situations of all kinds-- who are kind and giving without letting people melt on them, who are reliable without locking themselves into a cage of other people's expectations, who are moral without being overbearing, who can be close without losing their boundaries.
I used to worry that, if I didn't meet the right person when I was young enough, no one would ever completely understand me because too much complex history would have passed, and that was what I wanted more than anything else. I wanted to be seen, to be known, from top to bottom-- and to be good enough for someone to want to know me so thoroughly.
Now I don't see myself so much as a product of my history as I do of a manifestation of my potential. I am a strong enough person in my own right that I'm the only person I need to know myself entirely, and even that isn't necessary. The <i>knowing</i> doesn't make me who I am. The living of it does.
I never knew that was possible. And I never knew it was possible for so many actions and motivations and feelings to swirl along, more-or-less harmoniously, in the shell of one single human being.
I think that complexity and unexpectedness is the most glorious thing about people. I love it in myself. I love it in others. And it's better than I could ever have expected.
That's the limit of twitter's 140-character thing.
What did I mean? I meant that when I was twelve, or fourteen, or nineteen, there were certain things that I held in esteem in people. I prized people who were able to throw off the chains of social conformity and stand out from the crowd. I valued turning the searchlight of intellect on something and reducing it beyond its component parts. I worshipped independence, but-- it's not something I wanted for myself. I hadn't yet experienced being close with someone, not really.
I may still not have, depending on how close we want to talk about and how much you need an "I" to be close, but I have more breadth of experience from which to draw now.
I feel like I'm a much more distinct shape than I used to be. I have more presence in the world, I'm more solid, less defined by who is looking at me or in what context I'm seen. This is not to be confused with constancy because my life remains a whirlpool of change, but the "me" that drives it all casts a larger shadow.
Oh, I never can put this into words.
So now that I'm less worried about individuality, about the actuality of <i>being</i>, I spend more attention on the quality of being. But-- this comes only because I have achieved my individuality more than I ever dared dream I could. I walk the web nowadays, my life is a mesh of interconnected warmths and caretakings and givings and love. When I was nineteen, this would have seemed hopelessly insecure, to live this way without nailing things down. Now I slake that insecurity with habit-- with watching West Wing with Michael or Burn Notice with Andrew, texting Angus to say I love him, taking myself to a restaurant if I need. I give myself routine and challenge and care as I need them, and it is more than enough most times. I don't need some other human always there to lean on or to even tell if things aren't going well.
So now I'm worried about the quality of being, and it's people who live well that I find myself drawn to. I like people who can successfully navigate social situations of all kinds-- who are kind and giving without letting people melt on them, who are reliable without locking themselves into a cage of other people's expectations, who are moral without being overbearing, who can be close without losing their boundaries.
I used to worry that, if I didn't meet the right person when I was young enough, no one would ever completely understand me because too much complex history would have passed, and that was what I wanted more than anything else. I wanted to be seen, to be known, from top to bottom-- and to be good enough for someone to want to know me so thoroughly.
Now I don't see myself so much as a product of my history as I do of a manifestation of my potential. I am a strong enough person in my own right that I'm the only person I need to know myself entirely, and even that isn't necessary. The <i>knowing</i> doesn't make me who I am. The living of it does.
I never knew that was possible. And I never knew it was possible for so many actions and motivations and feelings to swirl along, more-or-less harmoniously, in the shell of one single human being.
I think that complexity and unexpectedness is the most glorious thing about people. I love it in myself. I love it in others. And it's better than I could ever have expected.
