Let's Talk about Us

I've joined a spiritual group that meets on Wednesdays. A thousand repetitive instincts are currently working to make sure I never return, but I've set my intention to keep up with it, because it is casual, moderate, and interfaith. At my first meeting last Wednesday, I think I realized why these instincts are so impossibly flighty. I have no concept of connection.

One of the main tenants of this group is the connectedness of all things. I've looked into it. It's the food chain, the circle of life, the works. In that way, it makes sense, but trying to apply it to my personal life is like dividing by zero. It just doesn't compute.

Growing up in Utah, sometimes dubbed "Mormonia," when you're not a member of the fold and are raised to embrace that fact, you belong to "US," and the Mormons belong to "THEM." It's the same when you go to a Catholic high school. If you cross yourself with a smiley face, it's because you're part of a smaller "US" compared to a greater "THEM." If you're not Catholic, Mormon, Evangelical, Buddhist, Muslim, Jewish, Hindu, Zoroastrian, or even Atheist, suddenly, tiny you, of "US," are separate from a titanic "THEM." So long as you embrace that separateness, you will never belong to any one of those groups. That's tricky when looking for a place in the world.

That doesn't just apply to religion, mind you. When developing a personality and a relationship with people at large, if you don't want to be too mean, too nice, too smart, too stupid, too funny, too melancholy, too analytical, too spontaneous, too dramatic, too down-to-earth, too admiring, too condescending, too passionate, too apathetic, too macho, too effeminate, et cetera, but you look around and see hundreds of people who are too much of something, suddenly, "US" shrinks to 12-point, Helvetica "ME," and "THEM" becomes the remainder of this blog post.

Twenty-four years down the line, the insanity of this mentality has suddenly become clear. I am actively resisting belonging to any particular group out of fear that belonging to that group would alienate others in other groups. In so doing, I have distancing myself from every group and wondering why no one has decided to join me. Maybe it's just the word "alienation" that's taken me to this extreme. I've been friends with people from all sorts of different backgrounds, so why is it so hard for me to accept that they could be friends with me if I belonged to something that they did not?

I'm going to stick with this group. If I'm going to learn how to progress in life, it will not be alone. Maybe that's the secret to overcoming Asperger's. The more time I spend around people, the less trouble I will have with seeing the truth that there really is no "THEM." It's all "US."

Farol Verde

I finally decided to put to use the two free AMC theatre tickets that have been hanging on my wall since November. They went toward a viewing of Green Lantern, one of the summer superhero movies on my list but predominantly the only one for which I could find a viewing buddy. As far as superhero movies are concerned, what it lacked in character development, dialogue, and continuity, it possessed in imaginative set pieces. As usual. But that's not the point of this post.

The mythos of the Green Lantern franchise is that the universe is built upon the conflict of two powerful energies: Will and Fear (think light side and dark side of the force). Those that succumb to fear are quite literally consumed by it, and the journey/wandering/stroll of our protagonist requires him to overcome such basic human fears as jumping off a towering skyscraper and facing a giant Androssian monster. While I'd love to go on about how many times I've found myself in the same situations, I'll focus a little more on something more general.

I've written about fear a lot in this blog: the fear of making eye contact, speaking out of line, being thought stupid or threatening, etc. My good friend in Germany related a story to me in which he made sustained eye contact with a guy at a bus stop, which then led to a mutual smile and a sort of rapport. Of course, I countered with the theory that, unlike Germany, America is as paranoid, if not more so, than I am. Therefore, sustained eye contact with a stranger on the street would be nicht gut. Yet he advised me to try it. Three seconds. Four, even. An eternity for me. But he presented it as a challenge. Damn it!

So, for the past week I've started to force a full second of eye contact. I've started talking to people with whom I don't normally associate, including the Adonis-type at work who may or may not have been flirting with me in February. And you know what? I get smiles out of it! People respond pleasantly. I mean, it takes quite a bit of reading to determine whether it's an appropriate time to talk to somebody, but an impromptu chat with a stranger is actually very empowering. You sustain eye contact with somebody, and suddenly, you're on their level. You no longer have to worry that your head is going to swell up like a giant tumor and your eyes glow yellow out of fear (see the movie), because in the end, to misquote Hamlet, words are just that: Words, words, words. There really is no need to look further than necessary into them.

I'm going to keep practicing eye contact. It's getting easier as I continue my adventure to see the Historical Landmarks of California and have to ask directions and information from complete strangers. Still, as of yet, these have been older, humble types, not as intimidating as the younger, firebrand sorts that breed so much insecurity in me. I'll take it one step at a time, a question here, an observation there, maybe even a compliment, troublesome though they may be. It takes time to learn how to conjure a racetrack out of pure energy, so if I keep viewing this as a journey or challenge, I just might be more enthusiastic to overcome it.