i’m not going to lie. i saw this on america’s got talent. i really don’t care of “reality” tv but every once in a while a gem is surfaced. the part of the artist’s story shared in the episode is heartwarming.
it’s ok… it’s alright.
crossing the line
i had dinner with friends the other evening that i haven’t seen in a while. pre-covid + give or take a year. a bit. i am honest about this because i don’t want to fall into this trap of blaming all of my social skills, or flakiness, or isolationism, or loneliness, on lockdown. that shit was shaky well before. ironically, it brought me out of my shell a bit. more on that some other time.
i shared with one of them that i’ve been going through a number of changes – life, spiritual, fashion, career, accessories (lots of dangly earrings), educational. she noted specifically the spiritual element: that it was the first time she had heard me talk about it openly. be honest about it – in a self-aware way. she said she has always observed that spirituality, mysticism, esoterica, whatever was something i brushed against, rode the perimeter of, but never seemed to cross into it. at least not cross in with clarity, earnestness, willingness. not cross into it without worry of how deep the forest was. fearlessly.
i wouldn’t say that i’ve crossed the line – not for the want of trying – but perhaps I at least have a toe in. she noted that i seem ready to continue moving in. i agree. the irony is that it is more difficult than i would have imagined to achieve any sort of immersion. but even already, this partial entry seems to be opening up a world of things. a world of mutual benefit.
someone who’s advice i take very seriously suggested that i just need to find my “tribe”. i have always felt like a bit of an outsider. not necessarily an outcast, but just someone that doesn’t quite fit particular molds. so i either spill out of them or they swallow me up and i get lost. i’m not terribly great at any particular thing. i don’t really have a hobby. i stretch myself thin-ish across too many things i enjoy, and then, mostly because i can’t perfect them, i give them up. i have friends, i think i’m cool (cool enough), i am funny. (i say this because this isn’t meant to be a loner’s soliloquy or a pity party.)
a couple things of note from the preceding paragraph:
- i have friends: yet i seem to be more interested in finding the right friends who will move me into this mystical realm. perhaps the ones i have are those who will do it, but not in some turn-the-lights-down-and-listen-to-aphex-twin’s-selected-ambient-works-by-candlelight-while-reading-tarot-cards kind of way. perhaps a more practical way that isn’t depicted in movies, but is possibly all the more meaningful. we’ve drifted upon one another’s lives for a reason. maybe we’re all just not flexing enough. that said, i could use a little help on the esoteric voyage. and it’s been difficult. maybe i’m just not ready? or not meant for such a trip.
- i can’t perfect them, i give them up: it’s ok to be alright. this goes back to (possibly) an earlier post about how when we predetermine final results before we begin – not just expectations – we are then determined to fail. at least i am. i use the fear of failure, or not getting 100% A+, as a deterrent to beginning something altogether. this is fucking self-sabotage at its finest. not even giving yourself a chance to start, to make mistakes (aka to learn + grow).
- i’m cool (cool enough): really what that sentence should have noted is “i am confident in who i am, i like myself, and don’t particularly care about others’ opinions of me. i respect myself enough to not let other people’s disrespect affect it.” someone told me recently that (i’m summarizing) one doesn’t find happiness or some level of enlightenment until he stops caring what other people think.
i’ll continue to put the intention out there, seeing what manifests. and not limiting that vision to what i expect, or what is shinier. i’ll continue to try and keep my heart and mind and spirit and body in the right place. and i’ll try to not be such a fucking perfectionist.
let go. go with the flow. i want to cross that line, safely(-ish), and go exploring. i want to have to use my headlamp, hiking boots, ice pickaxe, kayak, climbing harness. i want to get lost. but i still need a compass. i’m not sure about the map though…
sexting
this post is not about sexting. it’s just something that fascinates me. i’m old enough to have only had access to a smartphone – the first iPhone – as an adult. i was intrigued with communication technology in high school though, where a majority of students had pagers. including myself. they were cheap, plans were probably something like $5 a month, and you had the joy of going to a payphone – or using your friend’s house phone while you were at their house – and punching in your number to send to a friend to call you back.
they didn’t know how long you’d be at that number. also, it may be a bit until they were able to return the page. they, too, had to find a payphone or, if they were at home, they could use that. or they could also use their friend’s phone while they were over there.
next level: pager code. basically texting. not T9. actual pager code. like short-form number series for longer phrases. or actually pressing numbers that represented letters on the telephone keypad to spell out messages. the number-letter relationship was visual. “8” was “A” as well as “B”. “12” was “R”. “143” was “I love you”. And then you had your “signature”, your tag, your handle. Mine was “41” which is also “hi”.
I did manage to get a coworker who was over 18 at my high school retail job to help me get a cell phone. it was some kind of rose gold, dull tan thing with a plastic flip to cover the keypad. it did not have texting. it did not have a camera. it made and received calls. it was purely functional but did a 17 year old really need that level of functionality – especially when hardly any of his friends had one, too? i hid this phone from my parents for at least a year.
when i moved away after high school i could get my own phone plan. i wanted a Siemens or Ericsson. They were very European and I felt particularly such at that time. Nokias seemed pedestrian as the US models were a bit lackluster and I wanted something more complicated, high maintenance, and not as reliable. my propensity for over-complication started young. so i had a crazy looking siemens phone that was still probably to this day one of my favorite phones. it was slim and silver with a blue pixelated screen – no graphics – and blue buttons.
this is a pretty boring post. i’m just waxing poetic about dead tech. but i think it’s so interesting. anyway, more siemens, then to ericssons/sony ericsson. now that was a kick-ass phone. you thought flip phones were satisfying to close. wait until you flicked your wrist and half your phone swung about and shut.
ok enough about phones. i lost pretty much everyone probably a paragraph or two back. communication technology. now no one really talks on the phone. i do. i sometimes prefer it to texting. i struggle with the screen typing, the autocorrect, the inpatience and anxiety of waiting for a reply the lack of context or emotion. texting can be rough. phone calls are easier. they can be fast – often faster than texting. that said, i wonder if apple has it right when they turned the iPod into a neutered iPhone. can (do?) people buy iPods instead of an iPhone and just text when there’s wifi. iPads have cell service. same question.
enquiring minds want to know.