chasing the sun

I have, on occasion, been told that I am wise, or that I at least say wise things. In those moments I feel proud, but awkward, like if these people really knew how foolish I am, they wouldn’t be saying such things. And the thought of being wise or having wise things to say makes me excited because I feel it adds purpose to my life. But it also terrifies me because it’s an encumbrance and I fear becoming that person from whom others continuously expect to hear clever things because when I don’t have answers or advice for them, I will fail them in a sense.

To be perfectly honest, I don’t know if I’m wise or just a skilled observer of the human condition. I mean, if you watch people and really pay attention, not just to what they say, but to what they don’t say, then you begin to understand them and the unifying similarities that we all share.

The other part of that is finding out why people do the things they do.

Why did he say that thing about himself?

Why didn’t she do this when she said she was going to?

Sometimes there are simple answers to those kinds of questions and sometimes not. I like it when I ask why and the answer is not simple and I get to find out something really interesting about a person’s character.

The insatiable curiosity I live with on a daily basis is part of my charm (or so my mother tells me). I like to know why things are the way they are, which is why I like history so much, I think. I love putting the pieces of the puzzle together so they make sense and so I begin to see how this way of thinking or that ideology was able to take hold so easily or be rejected in this or that place.

The same is true of people. When you know why they do what they do and you can get to the bottom of it all, you begin to see what they actually believe about the world and themselves and God – the foundational truths and lies that run their individual universes.

So, perhaps I’m not wise – I just have an inquiring mind.

I hardly know what to write about today, with 10,000 thoughts swimming around in my head and my fingers frozen from the glacial conditions inside our office building today. And I have nothing to keep me from my thoughts because we’re at half-capacity today in the Enforcement department, so I’ve been reading the Wall Street Journal to stay busy…that’s how bad it is.

I always thought the Wall Street Journal was for tycoons and financial analysts, which it is, but there are sections of it for people like me who care little about market stability or the Dow Jones.

Today, in the “Weekend Journal” section, I read about a married man who has created a virtual version of himself and his virtual self married a woman’s virtual visage much to the chagrin of his real-life wife. Apparently he spends upwards of 10 hours a day in this alternate reality, going to dance parties, renovating a beach house and canoodling with his avatar wife.

Yikes!

As I read the story, I felt humiliated for this man, but more so for his wife who seems furious at her husband, but resigned to his escapist behavior. She cooks, cleans, and takes care of the house, while he avoids real life altogether.

The story says that they married later in life, which made me wonder if, as you get older, you’re more willing to settle for less from a mate. My friend and I were talking last night about what we’re looking for in a man and what we won’t settle less for and I really don’t think either of us have ridiculously high or low standards.

But neither did the woman in the story.

She talked about how they met online and that she was delighted to meet someone like her husband who was about her age, creative and adventurous. But a few months after they got married, his mother died and he began to withdraw into virtual reality where he met the online-wife.

The Wall-Street Journal asked the question “Is this man cheating on his wife?”

But I wonder, because of this man’s inability to come to grips with reality, if he’s not cheating himself in the process.

Real life sometimes sucks and is hard. There are a lot of things I’d rather just do without like lines at the grocery store or parking tickets (Damn you, City of Chicago!).

But that’s not what bothers me the most. What I find troublesome is that this man is spending so much time creating this false version of himself. Hours a day! Hours! Even on weekends he sits in front of his computer putting together the life he wishes he had as the person he wishes he was with the woman he wishes he was married to!

Is the real him that unbearable??

I mean, there are things about myself I’d rather you not know…like that I have a bad temper and that I used to work at Taco Bell and that I’ve never seen Casablanca. These may seem insignificant, but they make me feel embarrassed sometimes because there is this need within me to feel “normal”, a need to always fit in and never feel uncomfortable or separate.

I wish people would stop lying about themselves.

How am I supposed to really know you if you don’t tell me who you really are? Who is it that I’m laughing with? Who is that I’m sharing my secrets with?

Is that really you, or is it only who you want me to think you are?