#strangers

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“Day-13. Strangers.” Yeah. I don’t really know what yo make of this… Happy birthday to those born on July 13. May this year you rule as Royals, Kings, and Queens! Have a nice day!

-Bubbly, ROLL OUT!

Sean and I were listening to This American Life (a fabulous NPR show everyone should listen to, along with Wait! Wait! Don’t tell me!) and there was a story about a 17 year old girl in foster care who couldn’t have been more thrilled she had gotten pregnant, and her story about how her son overcame one of about 9 cases in the world of Cerebellum Ataxia.  This basically meant her son’s brain didn’t communicate with his body so everyday things were incredibly challenging.  All ended well, he’s currently 18 even though the 8-9 cases in the WORLD had not lived past 6 years old.  Really cool inspiring story told from the perspective of a mother who grew up in the foster system beginning at the age of 9, had no family to support her during her pregnancy and no father present for her son Isaiah.  She was determined to love him and support him like she had always wanted from her own family.  I love when cycles of hate, abuse, or absence end.  SO beautiful to hear about.

That being said, that story inspired Sean to tell me he thinks I’d be an amazing mom.  I said thanks because I didn’t really know what else to say.  It’s strange, I know I want to be a mom, but I just haven’t had that little feeling in my head/heart saying yeah, I could definitely do this soon.

We’ll see, but NPR really has some great stuff!  Also if you’re looking for podcasts, Strangers is amazing.  I love the stories they tell and the lives they follow - mostly different individuals every week!  Sometimes they do a follow up which is always fun :). 

Humanity as it Could be 

#people    #strangers    #humanity    #human nature    

I seek the validation and attention from strangers. So please, in this corona rittled world, interact with this post, share comment, repost, use it as a means to get your own attention. Let’s face the facts, we’re just all a little lonely

Hi. 

Do you remember when, as we sat in the park eating our ice cream, some dancing personality approached us wanting to perform, and I said, no thank you & you were impressed that I offered such a kind dismissal? I scoffed then thinking you barely knew me. And do you remember that you told me you were *slightly* lactose intolerant when I asked why you got mint chip vegan? It seemed like such a personal detail to share to a stranger. What about when I started talking about how my father came the US and you gave me a look that said wait, mine too? And that story you told me about the last man on earth who received a knock on his door? Did you make that up on the spot? I was impressed and then quickly embarrassed because I couldn’t come up with a short story spontaneously even though I was supposed to be the aspiring writer. 

I’m jogging my memory and these are the little details that fill in around the one single thing I remember best: when you spoke your native language. Ironically, I can’t quite remember what it was that you even said, but I do remember its effect on me. I still think about the lulling sound of it sometimes.

I’m jogging my memory because I’ve been hearing a lot about regret lately. Actually there’s this book I learned of called The Power of Regret, about how thinking about the past and what we fail to do can inform us about what we value in life and how we can do better in the future. That’s not to say I regretour serendipitous encounter, or even its finitude – the short-lived conversations, the dinner that we never had, etc. But it made me dwell a little longer on the moment. Sometimes I am grateful for strangership and sometimes I am curious and wish there was more to it. 

I think about that evening like I’m watching a movie, except I know there was no script, it was all improvisation and some things played out well and some things less so. A lot of information was left out, both the kind you want to hear and the kind you don’t. And so without a script, it’s not fair to regret something you had little control over. But still, I wanted to create an opportunity to fill in some of those gaps, provide you with more information and also, selfishly and curiously, see what effect I had on you. And maybe that is the regret, not pushing further for an opportunity that would be more controlled, more scripted, so we could feel more satisfied about our performances and effects on other people. 

I like closure, I like clarity, and I like to communicate clearly. Just– I don’t know if it’s appropriate for me to do so right now. In the past, it would seem I’ve always appeared uninvited, and I’d prefer to respect the space that you’ve created, if that was intentional.

Anyway, if you get this, I hope you call. But if you don’t, that’s okay too. Sometimes there’s beauty in something unfulfilled. 

Paris, juillet 2016

Paris, juillet 2016


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