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It’s more fun to remember things than to try and relive them again. Growing older is nice because I see myself and you more clearly, I think. I’ve been thinking what it’s like to grow up. To feel yourself crest and calm down. To feel so safe within yourself. To know that you yourself are settled. Whatever goes on around you, you see it swirl around you. The chaos of the world. And you know you are solid and safe and stable in the middle. 

We consume but we don’t want to engage. I think it’s possible to outgrow your consumer obsession. But engagement takes practice and at times, courage. What if you say the wrong thing or don’t say it right. What if the other person misinterprets what you’re trying to say. What if in our attempt to engage you…lose? Strike out? Miss your target completely? How do we step down off the podium of defense and learn to engage with one another in a civil and respectful way, while still having the know with all or the wherewithal to voice what’s right, admit what’s wrong, and do more than just entertain someone’s thought, do more than give them air time. How do we learn to push back with open ears and open hands?

I struggle with this idea of communication and connection and how context threads the two together. I want to connect not necessarily with others, but with the ideas of others. I want to be privy to their thoughts and context and connection, but I find communication my least desirable skill. I don’t just seek out books, I run to them, as listening, as hearing the words is my preferred form of communication. Then I can go away and think about them and maybe have something of formulation at a later time. Maybe I’ll speak back then. I want to hold the world aloft and contemplate it. I don’t necessarily care to engage with it, even though I know that more than observation is necessary to learn. That application, trial and error, are part of it too. But I pull back into my quiet, I pull back into my solitude, rather than seeking out the notice of others. I don’t know what that says about me. I don’t know if it’s good or bad. 


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