Hermitage

In the past week or so I've conversed with several smart and interesting people. We've talked about the following: movies, distilled vs. bottled vs. tap water, holiday decorations, holiday plans, the weather. These are not my usual topics of conversation - though who among us can claim anything to be 'usual' anymore? Here we are, interesting, interested, engaging and engaged people having conversations as if we've nothing in our lives to look forward to. As if our lives revolve around showing up at work, working for something we don't particularly love and then returning to the couch. Unfortunately, our lives do revolve around those very acts. And it shows.

I've come to find leaving my house something of a hassle. In-town jaunts are fine, but I literally dread leaving my town these days. Cold, unreliable buses, bad connections, hunting for food in a foreign town, attempting to entertain myself. What was once a series of adventures is now just a series of hassles. Cutting back on travel means I've become accustomed to being alone - perhaps too much so. I'm overly self-reliant to the point where I think it's unhealthy. We're social beings, right?

When I'd given up the dream of finding a normal, stable roommate in New York I searched for an affordable place to live alone. In my search, I found a small house in a suburban cul-de-sac within my price range. My excitement was soon dampered by the insight of a friend who noted that if I moved there he'd never see me again. It was true. I'd easily slide into my own universe and then wonder how I got so far from everyone.

I've done this now, here. I talk to people and then think "I have nothing to talk about." It's not that I want to distance myself from people or that I don't care to speak to them. It's just that we don't really have a lot to say to one another. I don't like to talk about work much. I'm tired of complaining all the time - of filling my life with that energy. I watch movies and read, but we all share the same copies so it's not like we can really get a book club going. We know the basics of each other, but the deeper details and stories don't really connect to anything right now - we share as necessary or appropriate and, oddly, weather discussions don't prompt significant childhood recollections.

We all walked away, at some point, from the life of half-hearted work, tv watching and the mundane only to arrive right back in it. I don't know anyone who wants to be at this point - to live with it and just accept it. It's like we all became stuck at the same time. We've faced a lot and have more to face but we're tired and want to breathe for a bit. Unfortunately, that pause is taking so much out of us and making us feel all the more lost and alone. We don't talk about ourselves much because, partially, we are tired of dealing with it and can't imagine others want to either. As Leonard Cohen would say: forsaken, almost human; we sink beneath the wisdom like a stone. Work. Parties. Alcohol. Zoning out. We've become the zombies we despise.

My former chatterbox addiction has turned into me hiding out more - turning it off, staying 'invisible' or just 'away'. I do it to get more done. I do it to not have a ton of "how was your day?" conversations. I do it because those conversations should be "what's going on in your head right now?" - only I don't want to initiate them all the time. And right now, I'm not so sure I want them initiated.

Sigh. Get any snow?