Life, the Universe, and Everything

"Did you, too, O friend, suppose democracy was only for elections, for politics, and for a party name? I say democracy is only of use there that it may pass on and come to its flower and fruit in manners, in the highest forms of interaction between [people], and their beliefs -- in religion, literature, colleges and schools -- democracy in all public and private life...."
-Walt Whitman

These last few days have been kind of hard for me.

I'm not saying that I haven't had a place to live, or food to eat, or good friends to talk to . . . So I guess I'm better off than many. I should try to focus on that.
But, since this is my very own blog, I'm going to tell you exactly why I'm feeling the way I am.

I've been having thoughts about life, people, existence . . . All that, you know? The thoughts are kind of heavy. They're not bad, per se, but they don't exactly make me want to frolic through a field of daisies. Or maybe they do, but in a totally different, twisty way.

Anyway, mostly I'm concerned with relationships. Not romantic, but just between people. I don't know if I can vocalize this correctly . . . Bear with me. It feels like, whatever you're talking about, one person is more involved, more passionate. Ordinarily, that isn't a bad thing; it's what feeds conversations, isn't it? One person explaining, the other questioning, each adding a little and taking so much more. Sometimes, though, it gets really tricky. People don't let on to how much they care about something. I certainly don't. I wouldn't call myself disingenuous, but I definitely hide my passions from people. It's because I don't know how they feel. That, however, leads to a vicious cycle: I don't share the depth of my feelings, so the other person doesn't know, so they don't show the depth of their feelings, so I don't know, so I don't show . . . You see?

It's when I don't know stuff that I get scared. That's why people are supposed to be afraid of the dark, no? Because they don't know what's in it; the lack of knowledge is terrifying. It's the same with interactions with other people. A few days ago, I was talking with a friend. For me it was a relaxed conversation, very open. I was happy. Suddenly, my friend was crying. I had no idea that the things we'd been saying had been so moving to the other party involved.

I don't want my words to have such a profound impact. Well, no, that's not true. I would like my carefully thought-out, edited and re-edited, weighed and measured words to have an impact. This whole idea of just general conversations affecting people . . . It's alarming. I'm only human. I'm flawed (boy, howdy)! If I'm going to discuss something that's really dear to me, I'm going to put a lot more thought and effort into it. I mean, it takes me forever to write a blog entry, and I edit it several times before and after I've posted it . . . And no one even reads it. But that doesn't matter. I think it's important, so I take care.

Maybe this is just a bit of a wake-up call. Maybe I'm the one who's never as passionate. Maybe I should be better about that. It's like someone just handed me a key and said, "Here, there are six billion people in the world. That means six billion doors. You've got roughly 70 years. Start opening."

This might be fun.