As much as I talk about going off to live in the mountains or out in the desert, I don't know if I'd ever be able to do it. There was a time, ten years ago or so, when I could spend three or four days without human contact except maybe a minimal conversation with a convenience store clerk. Now I find it difficult to make it through a single morning without a trip to the coffee shop to chat with friends and acquaintances.
Even so, my stamina for this is limited. I went with my usual Friday dinner group tonight, but while they all went on to an art show or some time at the Red Cup, I came back home to my back yard, my fireplace and my solitude. I enjoy the company of others, but I can't handle as much of it as others can.
Ms. Landscape Person describes a conversation she and I had — today? yesterday? — about relationships. I always feel like I've let myself down when I get into these discussions, because for me, talking wistfully about love and relationships is as pointless as talking wistfully about why the earth can't be shaped like a butternut squash instead of a sphere (yes, I know it's not a perfect sphere, but whatever — you know what I mean).
I'm not going to denigrate anyone else for however much time and energy they put into pondering relationships, but personally, I've taken it off my list of things to obsess about, and I'm always disappointed in myself when I find I've gone back over that same old territory yet again.
But the point I was trying to make in the conversation she describes is the point about the non-existence of self. If there is no self, who is it that's lonely or horny or whatever? If there is no other, who is the object of attraction?
I wrote something about this in the spring of 2007, and here it is.
I kind of cringe when I think about all the millions of my own CPU cycles I've used up pondering this subject over the years - only to finally conclude 'the hell with it, I'll go watch squirrels in the back yard.'
But that's what I've done. And I think I'm about as happy as anyone else.
No comments:
Post a Comment