people... again

I'm going to start this post the way I started the last post titled 'people' -

People are awkward things to be around.
Not because of them - because of me. I'm always aware of the disconnect - the breakdown of communication that happens because we're not psychic; we can't 'dreamfast' and get into each others' thoughts and memories like the Gelflings in The Dark Crystal.

I'm just thinking of this because Joel and Geri and Mary and Tammy and I just got back from seeing 'Twilight' - a thoroughly enjoyable film, and one that very effectively takes you (in my opinion) back [emotionally] to a high schoolish time where love could blossom not through shared interests or fascinating conversations, but because of some minute, unspoken connection - a glance, or a touch.

In this movie, the characters risk everything for each other, and you feel that they understand each other intimately, and yet what do they know of each other, really? They're both familiar with Debussy's 'Claire de Lune' - that's about all I can figure they have in common. But we're taken in, and we trust their relationship completely.

In direct contrast is James Spader's character's statement from last night's [last :-( ] Boston Legal - "...and there's no requirement that a couple be 'in love'; in fact, given the current divorce rate, one might say the most insidious problem with marriage is that people make life-altering decisions while 'in love'. It's a drug, a toxic one at that, and scientifically proven to wear off."

But I digress - to get back to the disconnect... so much of the time I feel apart from people, even when I'm with them. I feel alien, and one-sided. There are things I want to say that I can't say, things I do say that come out wrong and are misunderstood or misconstrued, things I try to say but my tongue gets garbled; statements I make that cause everyone at the table to look at me funny, like I've got green hair or a horn sticking out of my head.

In my daydreams, in my dreams, being with people is easier - they know where I'm coming from, intrinsically, without asking, without being told. They see me as me, the me I am when I'm alone; not some them-version of me. You know, I've got at least 10,000 versions of me; one for every person I've met - never do I feel 100% me with anyone.

[as I'm writing this I'm thinking -that almost sounds kinda cool - imagine being able to be 10,000 distinct people! The possibilities!]

But then there are the moments that click - and I think that's where God comes into play. I think that's where, for a moment, we humans leave the imperfect-disconnect human plane and touch something divine in each other. And we've all had those moments - a shared gigglefest with a girlfriend; an evening sitting with friends by a campfire in the darkness; a shared smile; a hug that lasts longer than normal; an hour of magical time after the kids go to bed; standing with a friend watching trees wave in the wind before a thunderstorm; christmas breakfast; skinnydipping under the moon; and, well yes, being in love - the list goes on and on - these moments where you feel so close that things can be unspoken and yet still commonly understood; where energies mesh without effort, where (as my friend Filippo put it one evening after hanging out with me and 5 of my friends) "I knew we all felt as if each of us could have kissed the others." - and it wasn't sexual, but just a momentary, sacred melding of souls in a certain space and time. It's something you have to wait for - you can't make it happen, you can't control it, you can't repeat it. It just Is.

I know those are the moments of connection that I live for, and long for, and that keep me from going off and becoming a hermit.