Hey there, my friend. Very, very happy to find you on LJ.
As usual, there's so much in what you write that I doubt I could begin to approach it all without replying an essay's worth...let me touch simply upon one point, which I hope will be of some perspective for you.
You do indeed come across as 'distant' or 'aloof' to the unfamiliar audience. Not simply as Chipotle -- it's simply how you are. I spent a great many hours overanalyzing this quality of yours when we first got to know one another, worrying that I'd offended you if you fell silent, or didn't reply as verbosely or conversationally as I expected. I assumed you thought dimly of me, or at least dimly of my ideas or methods of expression.
Over time and reflection, I came to see things differently. I realized that you were a very direct, very straightforward person, and that the art of expressing yourself conversationally was as subtle and delicate an art for you as expressing yourself creatively. You move slowly and carefully...and very, very precisely. You speak with a very Zen manner -- your words are exact, minimal, and elegant.
I think that intimidates some people; I know it used to intimidate me, and once in a while it still does. To the insecure, the uncertain, to those who look outward for validation, you give very little. Our shared social circle, as an example, is full of insecure and self-conscious people, many of whom are socially shy and hoping for a great deal of encouragement to come out of their shells. You don't readily offer it. You don't enter the dance of emotionally-stilted posturing that, to some degree, all people are touched by.
Everyone, even the most confident and self-assured person, somewhere inside wants to be liked, noticed, appreciated and valued. In the MTV world around us of ridiculously loud social stimulus (of which I am, beyond a doubt, a gross national exporter), you are the quiet lilt of a shakuhachi the ear has to strain to hear.
And on the flip side of this coin...it's a voicing of worry. When you seem upset and tense and unhappy, your friends want to pull you closer to them, not allow you to drift further away. If I had a nickel for every time I've said that I wished I could help make things a little less harried for you, I'd be retired by now. Ultimately, all your friends can really do is stand by the sidelines and keep speaking up, in some small way, to let you know they care. Sometimes 'you're being aloof' really means 'you're drawing inward and I feel powerless to help you with the issues causing it...please know I want you to be happy, even if I can only express it by being worried and upset with your worry and upset.'
It doesn't surprise me to imagine you come across this way...but in my opinion, the same things that make you feel sometimes aloof and distant are what make you such an admirable and beautiful person. Your words and feeling are gently voiced but very, very clear and distinct. I know that you mean what you say, I've learned not to expect the 'layers' of social kabuki and pantomime when we talk. I find you fantastically, overwhelmingly refreshing in this respect. You mean exactly what you say, and say exactly what you mean. I would guess that anyone who knows you to any degree has similar thoughts to these...or at least has answered these questions about you, and accepted these answers, in their own way.
You get to be down, frustrated and low-energy. I don't think anyone would grudge you that, much as we wish we could be of more meaningful help in your journey and wish you all the happiness life has to offer.
If I've committed a faux pas by replying here -- some people prefer no replies, I know -- feel free to delete this reply, I'll understand.
Hang in there my friend. Come hell or Des Moines, this too shall pass.
*smile*
Date: 2001-12-21 15:25 (UTC)As usual, there's so much in what you write that I doubt I could begin to approach it all without replying an essay's worth...let me touch simply upon one point, which I hope will be of some perspective for you.
You do indeed come across as 'distant' or 'aloof' to the unfamiliar audience. Not simply as Chipotle -- it's simply how you are. I spent a great many hours overanalyzing this quality of yours when we first got to know one another, worrying that I'd offended you if you fell silent, or didn't reply as verbosely or conversationally as I expected. I assumed you thought dimly of me, or at least dimly of my ideas or methods of expression.
Over time and reflection, I came to see things differently. I realized that you were a very direct, very straightforward person, and that the art of expressing yourself conversationally was as subtle and delicate an art for you as expressing yourself creatively. You move slowly and carefully...and very, very precisely. You speak with a very Zen manner -- your words are exact, minimal, and elegant.
I think that intimidates some people; I know it used to intimidate me, and once in a while it still does. To the insecure, the uncertain, to those who look outward for validation, you give very little. Our shared social circle, as an example, is full of insecure and self-conscious people, many of whom are socially shy and hoping for a great deal of encouragement to come out of their shells. You don't readily offer it. You don't enter the dance of emotionally-stilted posturing that, to some degree, all people are touched by.
Everyone, even the most confident and self-assured person, somewhere inside wants to be liked, noticed, appreciated and valued. In the MTV world around us of ridiculously loud social stimulus (of which I am, beyond a doubt, a gross national exporter), you are the quiet lilt of a shakuhachi the ear has to strain to hear.
And on the flip side of this coin...it's a voicing of worry. When you seem upset and tense and unhappy, your friends want to pull you closer to them, not allow you to drift further away. If I had a nickel for every time I've said that I wished I could help make things a little less harried for you, I'd be retired by now. Ultimately, all your friends can really do is stand by the sidelines and keep speaking up, in some small way, to let you know they care. Sometimes 'you're being aloof' really means 'you're drawing inward and I feel powerless to help you with the issues causing it...please know I want you to be happy, even if I can only express it by being worried and upset with your worry and upset.'
It doesn't surprise me to imagine you come across this way...but in my opinion, the same things that make you feel sometimes aloof and distant are what make you such an admirable and beautiful person. Your words and feeling are gently voiced but very, very clear and distinct. I know that you mean what you say, I've learned not to expect the 'layers' of social kabuki and pantomime when we talk. I find you fantastically, overwhelmingly refreshing in this respect. You mean exactly what you say, and say exactly what you mean. I would guess that anyone who knows you to any degree has similar thoughts to these...or at least has answered these questions about you, and accepted these answers, in their own way.
You get to be down, frustrated and low-energy. I don't think anyone would grudge you that, much as we wish we could be of more meaningful help in your journey and wish you all the happiness life has to offer.
If I've committed a faux pas by replying here -- some people prefer no replies, I know -- feel free to delete this reply, I'll understand.
Hang in there my friend. Come hell or Des Moines, this too shall pass.