Stream of Consciousness

I took advantage of the beautiful weather today and went on another neither rare nor frequent outing on my own to explore various coffee shops and nice spots to read. I kind of cheated and went to a coffee shop I've already been to because I just wanted a good cup of coffee, but afterwards I moved my imagination over to a nice neighborhood park I remembered passing a couple weeks ago. I sat on a sunny bench and read as I shyly then freely kicked off my shoes and stretched my legs in the empty park. But about half an hour in, the park started to fill with families, dogs, babysitters, and even a herd of early teens skating all over the well-kept jungle gym and slides. I kind of shifted my attention back and forth between the people and events around me and the emotions and love for the characters on the page. Eventually I ended my lucid affair and focused my attention on unfolding what conversations the people I was uncomfortably staring at might be having, how happy they must be with their newborn child, how scared the toddlers were of the hoodlums on wheels, and how patient the father must be with his tantrum-throwing daughter stomping as hard as she could as she trailed behind, almost threatening to stop following at all. After pretending to be invisible for probably too long, I started to wonder what people thought about me in the park. Did people pity me and assume I was lonely because I was sitting alone in a park, hair undone, glasses perched high on my nose, reading a book? Did they think I was crazy because I was semi-tanning in the almost-split position on a bench in the midst of newborn nuclear families? Or did they not see me at all?

I think it is so unbelievably bizarre and trippy that we all have our own thoughts and experiences that everyone around us is oblivious to. Grasping the concept of people as individuals has suddenly become a much larger and unrelenting task. It's a state of mind more than just trying to see things from another person's perspective, it's actually trying to imagine being that person, dissolving your own upbringing and downloading a completely foreign order of events leading up to your new existence. And aside from that, individuals existing simultaneously makes me wonder what others are doing at the exact moment that I'm doing something. It's really difficult to explain and I am having trouble trying to communicate it, but ever since cramming in my sociology major, I keep tweaking my perspective to this third person narrative and seeing people (and not as often as I should, myself) like I'm reading a novel or watching a movie. We're always so understanding of characters in movies and books because the reasons for their actions are subtly cued to us by a systematic plot. An explanation served on an entertaining platter. Oh so simple, huh? But when we hear things about others or have a less than ideal encounter, we're so quick to form judgments because we're caught up in how what others do affect us without regard for why or how it came to be.

It's come to my attention in the past few months that what I thought was a positive addition to my growth through college is also my tragic flaw. Trying to consider circumstance, thinking of possible misunderstandings, walking in others boots...I'd like to think it made me much more open-minded, accepting, and patient. That's a big step considering that ever since middle school, my new year's resolution has always been to be more patient with people (although my biggest pet peeve is still getting stuck behind slow walkers!). But the problem with being understanding, is that some people are just jackasses and then you're just a pushover. Or they're jackasses and don't know it and need to be told but you are cradling your balls saying "it's okay they didn't mean it". I'm not implying that I never get mad or that I love everyone or that I don't know how to discern right from wrong. But I am testifying that it gets fuzzy for me, especially when I know that the intentions were good but the outcomes were just all sorts of bad. Then I just don't have the gumption to bring it up. Or I privately forgive people without them even knowing they needed forgiveness, which ultimately results in repeat offenders, unintentional or not.

Guard our hearts? Judge others? Accept others? Your values versus mine? Where's the line in the ethics of these questions? Who are we to say what's right and wrong or who's good and bad? I once told a good friend that I like to surround myself with people who inspire me. His response was "doesn't everyone have the potential to inspire?" Damn it. Got me there. But how do we balance our own sensitivities with the sensitivity to other's experiences? I've been lectured by many about being a pushover in certain circumstances (oh but not all because I know a lot of you have seen me quite ruthless and hard-headed), but I can't help but try to obtain and adapt the literary stream of consciousness to real life. However, in the midst of my attempted grasp of others' thought process, it's possible that I fabricate excuses, circumstance, or misunderstanding.

A simpler explanation would be that I apply positive or negative interpretations of (mis)fortunes, glances, behavior, and communication when I want them to be someone they're not. Possibly a need for them to be someone they're not...whether that be someone to love or even to hate and blame. Weird. This is a bit too much for me to try to think through, so I'll just put it in ink and possibly return to it later. But most likely not in an effort to avoid having to trudge though questions that I know aren't absolutes. Goodnight.