There was a big dead butterfly at my feet as I got out of the car to sign the paperwork that authorizes my sister, who has regularly failed me, to do stuff she failed me on.
Not a good day.
I know she is doing the best that she can, that she wants to help, but it certainly doesn’t feel like she understands anything about my experience of the world.
Me and the dead butterfly. I always told her that one of us had to make it out of here alive, and it wasn’t going to be me.
Barry Humphries says that he could write everything that Dame Edna Everage says, but that it would take a lot longer than just having her say it. Instead, he just lets her go, and acts as an inner censor when she is going too far. (In case you don’t know, Dame Edna was created and is performed by Mr. Humphries.)
Why can Dame Edna be so much more fast, sparkling and witty when she is on stage than when she is on a keyboard, on a script?
Because the magic of human relationships is interaction. We get in the moment and we let fly, never quite knowing what will come out of our mouth next. We get feedback, something captures our attention, a notion comes to us, we intuit something, and bang, our conversation goes in a new and unexpected way, one that would be almost impossible to script.
That’s my experience sitting in this dumpy chair in this ragged basement tapping on this beat-up keyboard. I can get there, but without the surprise and spark that come with real interactive relationships. I end up worn down rather than invigorated, end up seeping life rather than sipping life.
I go out and have a tiny bit of interaction and then I bring that back and share it in text. I’m used to patching together the small bits of interaction I do have and making the most of them. I replay, replay, replay, replay, squeezing what I can get.
I once told a partner that I was learning to trust myself, but that I needed to learn how to trust others. She suggested that I learn that by myself. Oy.
But do I get everyday interaction that exists in my world and not in the world of others? No. I do go out to find connection, but it’s on their terms, their context and not mine.
That interaction is missing for me. Leaving me alone. And lonely.
Callan 