We watch the television shows wher character’s secrets are exposed and we can experience all of their so called private lives and thoughts, and its entertaining. But what about when its right outside your house? Next to you in line at the grocery store? At the gas station? In the bathroom stall to the right of you?
I believe the women in my family are cursed and blessed with what I refer in this blog as the “talk traction.” We must have some magnetic force out there that pulls the closeted in. My mother, my sister, and I recall new experiences about others sharing deep closeted things about themselves daily. Why do strangers feel compelled to reveal their closeted thoughts and experiences with us?
I must say, meeting people on a real level is both revealing, shocking, frightening, and at times burdensome. There is a reason I stopped reading the news, because there is only so much chaos one little being can process. I swear each person I meet feels like a a 500 page mystery novel where you keep thinking you’ve got all the clues, but more pop up, and the more complex and unimaginable enters to more you read.
In the past few months I have met a variety of people sure enough I was an outlet for them to find refuge in. I should have been a psychologist. The problem there is I would have to judge and decipher how this being should progress. In my case now, I just have to listen without judgement.
But it can be hard, to hear the honest truths about peoples lives, the mistakes and the shame, the hurt and the disgust and not judge. However, the more stories I hear from the people themselves, the less I judge. We are all the villains and the victims in our stories, depending on which chapter you want to talk about that day.
I think its interesting that we can put so many filters on the areas of our lives: what shows we watch, what news we read, what books we read, what people we associate with, where we work, where we live, what we wear, that its almost frightening when we are faced with something we did not have any control over. But honestly, isn’t that the moment you really feel life’s presence?
If I am being honest, I have spent most my life trying to live like a hermit, but I thrive on stories and I am cursed with the “Talking traction.” I like being behind the camera, behind the ink, and behind the scenes, watching the world in effect, but more often then not, I am joining in with the chorus.
I think I enjoy when the actors forget there lines, when the singer croaks, and when the dancer must improv, not because of some vindictive personality, but because I see life unscripted for just a moment. Just a moment we forget we are told, and live truly in the moment.
When was the last time you felt that? When was the last time you weren’t referencing another thought to respond to something in front of you. For me its when I am interrupted by another’s human experience. It ricochets off me and for a moment I am experiencing instead of doing/acting/saying/thinking.
I guess the “talking traction” is something I am would have to say I am grateful for. It keeps me honest and it keeps me interested in life. It also teaches me things I never learned in books. It’s the best education I’ve ever received in fact.