Sometimes I get this feeling that my life isn’t meant to be lived in front of computers in solitude. Rather it’s meant to be lived outside, around other people, in a dynamic flow of events and exchanges of experience and emotion.
I visualize the social world as an ocean where instead of water, it’s people. They’re going about their daily business, talking to each other, making plans, moving around, having moments of joy and depression and everything else. And it’s all constantly shifting and changing.
The human world of feeling, entertainment, relationship, subjective reality, impermeance.
I have spent a long time feeling like an outsider, observing others engage in this reality, not understanding how they could enjoy it, or even how they do it. I was always the quiet, logical one. I had neither the motivation nor the understanding to dive deep into it, to throw structure and reason to the wind and just let whatever happened, happen.
A big theme in my life lately had been learning how to live both in the world of rationality, my comfortable fortress against the uncertainties of life, and the world of emotion, the subjective and shifting seas that bring both great danger and great reward. Becoming more aware and comfortable with myself has meant an increasing comfort in exploring the unpredictable, vortex-like world of the subjective. So has letting go of my need to make perfect sense of everything. My mind still guides me, preventing me from making bad mistakes, but also reminding me I can take risks and survive if I fail.
The thought of deep diving into that fluctuating realm of the human kind is scary, but I feel the pull toward it. Already I’ve stepped in it here and there, and found it delightful. (But being your textbook introvert, also exhausting!) This world of the emotional, physical, spiritual – these places where philosophy and strategy can only take you so far – these are the areas where most of my personal growth is and will continue to be in these next few years. Much of what I’ve been writing here is me trying to make sense of it. It’s me cautiously approaching the border of logic and emotion, order and chaos, objective and subjective, quantifiable and experiential.
Life is improv. A ship is safe in harbor, but that’s not what ships are made for. Maybe it’s about time I cross that border and drown in the waves, like the protagonist of some aquatic hero’s journey, and resurface a more fully human person.