"I don't know, did you have magic?" That's what she said. And no, that's not a punch-line to a really bad joke that usually gets me a purse thwapped! It is what she said. Technically, it's what she asked, but I'm not technical. Ok, that's a lie. I digress. I am technical. I had the answer--move on.
"No, no magic." I do wish I had it though. I wish I had both: the magic, and the real answer to the real question. See, we were talking about the loneliness. The loneliness, that's thing that makes us unique and separates us from everybody else. The thing that makes some people feel--as one reader put it, "I don't know, like I could stop existing and no one would notice, not even my kids."
I don't know.
It's not even about divorce. I know all about that. But, of the three people conspiring over this conversation, I'm the only one with the divorce distinction. "I don't know," that’s the one thing we all have in common.
Maybe if we did know. Somebody has to know, right?
Sure, God has the answer, but as all knowing all powerful deity, he's great. As the Shell Answerman, doling out, quick fix change to every quick fix crisis he kinda sucks. He's more of a quiet power, a mediator who asks that we be still and know. Who has time for that?
"I don't know."
That's why I ask, but maybe my answer worms through the fruit of my arrogance. Maybe the questions aren't mine to ask. Maybe I wrestle, when I should be still. I don't know. And when you're dealing with the answer to loneliness, who's there to ask? Throwing a question into a void is just another way of avoiding an answer, cuz it's never coming back.
I threw an answer out to the asker. One that dealt with metaphor over magic. She said she was a pragmatist; yeah a metaphor should be a brick to the head of that drowning friend. I'm a giver.
I gave the current former friend the concept that people were like rocks and leaves. The rocks remain, while leaves trip to the wisp and whim of the next wind. Rocks are good, but rocks are also a part of Charlie Brown's Halloween.
"I got a rock."
Yeah, I know. The rock and leave thing? It's Edie Brickell philosophy. It's a walk on the slippery rocks. What's more, I didn't even cover the "slippery" thing. It's probably just leaf-slime though. I'll wipe it right off.
I think the fatal flaw in my religion of rocks and leaves is that my latter poster is a post poster and no longer exists (yeah, take a breath re-read it, draw a relational tree with lotsa leaves…there ya go, you've got it. Now back to our story…). Does this mean people posters can vacillate and leave? Have they mastered the alchemy of rock and leaf? Or is it that one man's non-rolling stone is another man's Barking Beatle leaf? I don't know. Tree's petrify and turn to rock, but do they ever return to a more fluid nature? There's a lot to think about. We stones think a lot.
"I don't know."
For all our thinking, that's our answer. Thank you Socrates: the wise man knows he doesn't know…my ass...
I reread some of my "lonely" posts. I wanted an answer. I mean really, how can I feel lonely if somebody out there feels what I feel? That sort of rolls against the definition of "lonely" doesn't it? I mean here's the question: Am I "lonely" first, or "self absorbed?" Yeah, you don't have to be smarter than a 5th grader to pull that answer out of your butt. It was clear I needed to cure her loneliness.
Perfect! What do I do? I sent a few emails asking more question. Collect data, that's always the first response right? I started with questions like "What are you wearing?" and "I like whipped cream, how about you?" Her loneliness persisted; she wouldn't reply. Something about being "understood."
What the hell is that? I have to "understand" too? I didn't go through this kind of work in my marriage…oh. Well anyway fine. I'll try understanding.
"You say you're lonely. How does that make you feel?"
"lonely."
"Ok, but other than that how does it make you feel?"
"alone."
"Besides that?"
"Abandoned."
"And?"
"Deserted."
"Yeah, I have that page in my thesaurus too. I'm trying to understand."
"isolated."
Yeah, I'm sure you get that a lot…
What do you do when they've walled themselves off? I mean I could send her the Pink Floyd CD, but I don't know her music. I don't know her tastes.
I don't know.
That's it! I don't know. It's not just the questions, it's the answer. it's about caring enough to ask the right questions. It's about learning to listen when you're given the answers. Forgive me, we stones can be so thick.
So I started again. "Hi, my name is Rob. What's your name? What brings you to this corner of blogworld?"
She gave me the answers when I asked. Then I asked more questions based on her answers. For the moment, she wasn't lonely. Funny thing, neither was I. What's more, while I wasn't looking, God slipped me a few of the answers I'd been asking for quite some time. How did he know when I needed them?
I don't know.
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