Do you understand what I’m doing at the moment? I mean, beyond the material thing that I’ve given up my flat and am on the road living and working with people as required, being useful and moving on.
No, neither do I.
Except it seems to have something to do with living differently, with experiencing other people’s lives and hearing their perspective on mine. It seems that this is something important for me to do, it’s not a choice I came to lightly, it took me a long time sitting in a flat in Fulham wondering why things didn’t work well and hankering for a way to be doing more, having a variety of experiences and meet with more diverse groups of people. It’s one of those things that I can’t say I chose to do, it feels much more like it chose me.
I woke up this morning with paranoia, the idea that everyone hates me and thinks I’m just being a dick, spongeing off the goodwill of my friends and occasionally writing pompous self-indulgent stuff on the internet. I know that the cure for this is writing about it, talking about it, getting it out of my head, because that’s the place it comes from. It isn’t based in any real evidence – I am making it up. In fact, since I poked my head above the parapet and wrote something yesterday I’ve had several very friendly and loving messages enquiring into my well-being. If anyone does think that stuff, they’re not letting me know.
What is different (I hesitate to say, “not working”) about this current journey is that I’m being challenged to involve others in my life. If the people I visit don’t feel involved then it does become a bit like spongeing, it all feels one way, but I’m still not sure how to do it. I’ve always found this involvement, openness, personal connection, difficult. I’ve found it hard enough to identify in the first place – I thought I was doing it, I think I’m doing what’s required, and yet from time to time I find myself having a conversation that shows me that the other person doesn’t feel involved, they feel shut out and cut off. I don’t really know what to do about this except talk it around some more and see what other people think. It feels like it’s in my blind spot. What does it look like? How would I know that I was involving you more in my life? If I’m always telling you what I’m up to, what I’m thinking, what I want to do, how does that differ from self-obsession?