I suspect most people have a deep rooted fear of rejection. The most insidious of fears no doubt, because it is the most persistent, and surfaces the most often. Its hard to trace back the first time we truly felt rejected, but rejection leaves deep emotional scar that can trip up our progress in the future…for a crazy long time. Socially for example, there is a understood, unspoken discourse, where everyone feels comfortable. Common topics: partying, sports, and the oldest topic conversation in the book, the weather. Play it safe topics. What if you opened up with a random fact after you met someone. Did you know that squirrels burying nuts accounts for MILLIONS of new trees every year? Ok….this person is crazy. But that IS an interesting fact.
Let’s take social media example: safe bet would be, picture of you and some friends, smiling at a concert or bbq, you hanging out at the beach, maybe some landmarks? Lets not underrate social media here. Facebook posts and twitter accounts might seems like no big deal, but we all know they are. Politician’s know they are; they’re hiring big shot firms to manage theirs. In a way social media is nice, we get full control over the way we portray ourselves. We have time to think of our responses, we don’t really have to interface with people. I recently did an exercise with a stranger, where we stared in each other’s eyes for 2 minutes straight. the feelings I felt surge up during those 2 minutes were incredible: I wanted to jump of my skin.
I have always carried with me a sense of nostalgia. It is a lot to carry around full-time, a romanticized sense of the past that taints my vision of what is right in front of me. I confided about this feeling, in an old friend who I haven’t seen for years (wouldn’t you know it) and he told me maybe I had an old soul. Whether or not that’s true, I found that comforting. Sometimes, the feeling of nostalgia even creeps into the present, and I feel like I am missing this moment, and the people in it. Maybe I really am.
Maybe its just stubbornness that compels my mind to insist that the past had something that the present is lacking. I feel life, whether or not I’m ready, life moves forward. That was something that my visit to Poland made abundantly clear. Seven years…babies were born, people moved out, people grew old, battled with time, and some lay to rest. Felt a pang of that Catholic guilt, that I had missed all of it, preoccupied with living my life, thousands of miles away. I didn’t make these decisions. I’m lucky they were made for me, because I couldn’t have been so decisive myself. To leave everyone, everything, to start over. Maybe things do progressively get tougher. Some of the people who will play big roles in my life, I’m sure I have yet to meet, which is an exciting prospect. Those rose colored lenses, they serve me no purpose. If I really think about it, I can count more major blessings now than ever. I already know that in a few years, I’ll be missing today. I just need to figure out how to channel that appreciation of the moment to this moment, now.