The Fascination of You

The Fascination of You

One of the many tasks I have worked on over the years is learning how to chat. I still don’t feel comfortable with small talk. Frankly, I'm not even sure what that means. I want to connect with you, feel shy and a bit insecure, yet there are so many circumstances where I am at an event and need to make some kind of conversation with strangers.

Why do I like people? How are you interesting? What makes me feel warm towards you?

I used to ask, ¨what you do for a living?¨ That turned out not to be a very good conversation starter. People often have complicated feelings about how they make a living. I found it much more fun to ask, ¨ what do you do for fun?¨ Or ¨what makes your heart sing?¨ Or ¨where do you find joy?¨

They are fun questions for several reasons. One reason is that I hear about what gives someone joy. They tend to light up when they tell me about their passions. Reading, horseback riding, music, cooking, gardening! So much love and happiness! Another reason is that sometimes they look at me blankly and say, ¨I have kids.¨ or ¨I work full-time and go to school.¨ Those responses give a nice entré into more questions about their family or their schooling.

People are so interesting. It is so often worth digging a bit to find out why.

When I ask you about you then listen to your answer, I learn stuff. I learn about activities I didn’t know people did for fun, like ironworking. I find out about books I haven’t read or music I haven’t listened to. Somehow, wherever I go, I meet really interesting people.

In the dark ages, I was afraid of you. I feared that you would hurt me; crush me with cruel words, cut me with sarcasm, or snark, mock me, ignore me. I saw my world as a terrifying place filled with danger. It wasn't true, but it certainly was what I filtered for.

Most people I encountered treated me kindly, respectfully. I didn't notice. At the end of the day, I rehearsed the wrongs that had been done me. Once in a blue moon, I would recall a kind gesture, and marvel at how rare they were.

I was filtering for rotten behavior.

As I worked with my teacher, I learned to look for the niceties, the kind gestures, the smiles. I would pause and take a moment to let that good stuff sink in. I would think about the nice things that happened as I finished my day. I stopped rehearsing the crummy stuff, I stopped paying attention to it, I stopped letting it in.

The more I filtered for love in the world instead of hate, the more love I found in the world.

The more love I found, the less frightening you seemed, the more fascinating you became. The more compelling I found you, the easier it was to set aside my shyness in favor of my curiosity and interest. The more I did that, the nicer my world got. I like having people in my world.

How have I changed from hiding and avoiding people to enjoying connecting with you?

(c) Pam Guthrie 2015 all rights reserved 09112015

Tell Me Your Tale

Tell Me Your Tale

Why do I engage? Oh ho ho! What a powerful question that was for me because I didn’t, or only did reluctantly for so very long. What I wanted, what I thought I wanted, was to be invisible to you. What I believed was that if you got a chance, you hurt me. Sorry about that. I had some serious trust issues. I used to joke, ¨I love humanity, it’s people I can’t stand.” Poor little me.

As I chose to address my issues, or deal with the white hot mess that was my life, I found that I had to do some stuff. I had developed perseverance from staying in abusive relationships, so when it took me eight tries to find my best therapist, I could do that. I had developed courage from living in my terrifying life, so when I needed to do something like a leap of faith, I knew I had courage, even though I was scared to pieces.

Engaging. That was something I didn’t really get. What the heck does it mean to engage? How do I connect? How do I touch someone, and be touched by them?

For me, I had to let go of my fear of being seen for who I am. I had to find a way to sincerity. Holy moly! I needed help to get there. That, of course, meant that I had to be vulnerable to people instead of just seeming to be vulnerable! Wow! What a spooky notion. I had a group of friends who, for about five days, said, ¨I don’t believe you,¨ when they didn’t. Maybe it wasn’t that long, but it helped me to break my bad habit of saying what I thought you wanted to hear and saying what I meant instead. And not one of those people hurt me as I was being vulnerable with them.

Why do I engage? What makes me seek out connections? How do I see that we are alike?

As I have learned to engage, some really neat stuff has happened. I find that I have something in common with all sorts of people. I find that I want to hear your story, hear about how you see the world. I want to connect. Now, I like to find a way to engage with you quickly. I delight in finding our commonalities. I feel more human as let strangers touch my spirit, and I feel good about leaving a random interaction with both of us smiling.

When I engage, my world gets a little bit bigger. When I engage, my world gets a little bit sweeter. When you, a stranger, share a bit of yourself, I recognize the gift and feel honored by it. And then, when I have my down time, I am often overwhelmed by the amazingness that is now my life. I do enjoy feeling blissed out.

Sometimes I speak with you, sometimes we may share a smile, sometimes it is just a look that we share, It is that moment of sharing that makes the difference. When we engage, you will often share one of your gifts with me. Or a talent, or a skill. I love that! I love to know what you are good at!

What do I have to do to reap all these lovely benefits? Engage, be present, listen.

I engaged with the guards at the museum. They each gave us so much -- fun, inside stories about the installations, pointing out exhibits we might have missed, little flashes of their personal lives.

We want to connect, we want to engage with each other. We are one and that oneness likes to happen in our interactions. As we grow up, we find it easier to do, but for many of us, we have to practice.

How have I changed from isolating myself to choosing to engage?

(c) Pam Guthrie 2015 all rights reserved 07112015