I’ve always lived with a level of discomfort.
One night it’s my neck. Then it’s my upper back. Then my lower back (very thankful for my jumbo-sized heating pad). Today it’s my wrist. It used to be my knees when I played sports, but thankfully a diagnosis of Femoral Patella Syndrome cleared that one up. One time, I pulled a muscle walking my 10-lb. Bichon Frisé with dementia down a sidewalk. Hell, I’m pretty sure I woke up the other day and my actual skin on the underside of my bicep hurt.
Oh, and then there’s the emotional and mental discomfort.
Right. That.
I’ve lived plenty of days where I feel fine, physically, even though I’m very much in my “I think I need to stretch before I walk through the grocery store” stage of life. But in my adult life, I can’t think of 24-consecutive hours of solace I’ve had where my mind hasn’t left its harness to wonder through the possibilities of what could be. I don’t want to equate it to a personal hell. That would be dramatic. But purgatory doesn’t sound far off, quite candidly.
A perpetual feeling of being lost in the flood of “what’s next?”
The discomfort stems from uncertainty. On the outside, I may appear to be patient, but that’s one of my greatest magic tricks. I’m always worried about what’s around the bend professionally, but in recent years, even more so personally. I’m surrounded by the happiness of others, which I very much am a cheerleader for.
But what is to come of me? Will I ever find compatibility of my own?
That wasn’t something I thought a whole lot about as a teenager. You have your seventh grade flings, and even into high school, having a partner is a status symbol. There’s little beyond who you’re taking to prom, or what pictures you’re going to upload to your Facebook album that in 10 years time you’re going to regret immensely.
Shallowness fades eventually. And reality hits you across the face.
I can remember when it did for me. I was 19 years old, sitting on my twin size bed in my dorm room, listening to Bruce Springsteen’s newest album “Wrecking Ball” (I am nothing, if not, consistent). On the final third of the record, I come across a song called “You’ve Got It,” and a passage jumps through my headphones into the crevices of my cavity:
“Ain’t no one can break it
There ain’t no one can steal it
Ain’t no one can fake it
You just know it when you feel it
Baby you’ve got it”
Wow. Turns out, there is an actual reason for why we search for our secret sauce in life after all. But the formula for finding it is…undefined?
Life goes on, and you learn.
There are so many ways we form connections with those around us. In the words we speak in casual conversation, in our actions towards one another, in the songs we sing together, in the words we write and pass along, etc. All of those things start on the surface, budding bonds that either build in linear form, or straight up into limitless skies.
And when the latter occurs, man, it can be really scary. Sometimes in practice, but mostly in uncertainty.
That’s because the tricks our brains play on us can leave us wallowing in the muck of avarice. We see the promising signs of a growing companionship, and allow our chemical need for more to encompass our essence like a flame engulfing a torch. No matter where you lead, it will continue to burn. Eventually, just to burn out.
Then, you’re a victim of your own foolishness. Once a believer in a promising connection, left spurred as a result of apparent differences, or perhaps worse, general indifference.
Not always, though.
Sometimes, someone comes into your life unexpectedly, and you begin down the same trek you’ve been down countless times before. Skeptical, understandably. They forge your trust in them through friendship, basking in commonalities, moral similarities, and similar outlooks on the way we tackle this thing called life. It’s easy, and it’s warming.
Then you approach that line once again. The hormones rush with an intensity that leaves your heart palpitating, peering deeply into every word you exchange. You know you’re alone in feeling this level of compatibility, you’ve been here before. Compatibility is a two-way street, and when you reach this level, reciprocation is usually absent.
Until it’s not. Suddenly, you see these advanced stages of connection are matched. The energy is returned. The once unspoken and taboo give way to a clarity that you weren’t sure you would ever experience, or if you have before, doubted you would cross again. It’s a meeting and matching of the mind, and a shared circling of your souls. Your stars and your signs are in lockstep. There’s something going on here.
And you want more. You need more. For maybe the first time ever, this seems right.
How are you truly sure of the depth of your desires, though? How do you truly know when compatibility surpasses the threshold of complacency and into the territory that lay beyond the dangers and thrills of the unknown? You’re fiercely aware from your failures of the catastrophic consequences that come from coming up empty. Is this another dance with rejection?
When Jim Halpert decided to kiss Pam Beesly, an engaged woman in practice but hardly in intent, did he finally realize it was a connection too strong to ignore? When Pam relented and embraced this act of desperation in a dimly-lit office space, did she recognize their compatibility went beyond pre-established (but so obviously without foundation) boundaries as well?!
The only element of all of this that I’m certain about is that Season 2 rules. Every other part of it, I genuinely am without resolve.
That fear of what could be, or what may not, cripples us. We risk compromising our futures, our attachments, and the endless possibilities of what may be because we’re scared of the unknown. What seems most right, authentic, and real is most terrifying.
But upon reflection, I’ve pushed myself to put my vulnerability on the line. When something seems like the real deal, I force myself to embrace the venture into the void. I tell myself it’s worth the risk, because I don’t think it’s something you’ll ever be fully sure of, or completely confident in.
You just know it when you feel it.
Good shit Jon. 🤘🏼