Sometimes I filled with this peculiar, yet oddly beautiful, sadness.
I have had so many people come in and out of my life. Sometimes they come back in again, then go out.
People who I have shared amazing experiences with - now, memories of the past.
People who I thought I would stay in touch with for years to come - now, facebook "friends" that I occasionally stalk, reminding me of life's impermanence.
People who have long left my dunbar150 circle - now, colours in the landscape portrait painting of the past.
And I am only 25.
What remains in the next 25 years?
I don't know - I just can't shake the feeling, this mild remorse, that comes when you see someone you were close to, but through life's inevitability, you both go different ways. I ask myself: could I have given more to the friendship? Then again, maybe not. I am not sure.
The more I ponder this peculiar feeling, the more I am odds with myself.
I can feel it. Dormant feelings waiting to be explored.
Does everyone experience this as I do? A continual flow of people, in and out, coming and going. Or is just me and my reality? The downfall of having an innate curiosity for people: you inadvertently fail to maintain contact with old friends as you keep moving forward in life. Or perhaps my feelings are normal -the inevitable cognitive dissonance that comes when can't you give adequate social grooming to your Dunbar150.
Maybe this is the small price I pay for following my dreams. For always following my gut and going on my own. For staying Fuck you to groupthink and status quo.
I have always this Catch 22 relationship with "popularity": the gift of connecting with people, at times. left me feeling empty. Over the years, I have organically changing my tacits: I crave quality over quantity. I do my best to be a loyal friend to people that matter to me. But even those people seem to change. Which gets me in this head-spin: is it 'me' who is creating this impermanent flow of people - or am I simply observing the nature of life? Moving, Flowing, Never-ending touchpoints with people. Do I accept this? Is this how is it? What is this pattern I am observing? Do other people see this as I do?
The childhood psychologist in me says that peculiar sadness stems back experiencing impermanence, loss, lack of love early in life. Divorced parents. Boarding School. Issues with my Dad. A clique really.
Then again, I have always experienced such amazing bonds, joy, happiness with others.
Hanging with Japanese Backpackers at my mum's restaurant
My brothers at Boarding School.
My awesome years at IH.
Travelling in Asia.
Edgeware Kids.
And, more recently, my Palomar5 family.
It ain't like I ended any of these relationships on a sour note, life just seemed to pull me in my own direction. I still maintain contact with people from various walks of my life; others not so. I am making new friends. Maintaining current ones. And slowly saying goodbye to others.
I guess it just weirds me out - if I have had such a rich tapstery, yet impermanent, tapstery of people in life already, what will my life look like when I am 60?
(Especially in the age of the networked economy when we are all going to be a click away for life. Is that kind of ambient awareness a benefit or a hinderance for our collective psychological life? )
I can't even pinpoint the origin of this thought process anymore.
Am I witnessing the pattern of life's impermanence that every spiritual tradition discusses?
Am I simply experiencing delayed grief from a lack of love in my younger years?
Is this a group dynamics thing - mere cognitive overload when you give social grooming as you would like to?
Or am I doing my head again?
I have always this Catch 22 relationship with "popularity": the gift of connecting with people, at times. left me feeling empty. Over the years, I have organically changing my tacits: I crave quality over quantity. I do my best to be a loyal friend to people that matter to me. But even those people seem to change. Which gets me in this head-spin: is it 'me' who is creating this impermanent flow of people - or am I simply observing the nature of life? Moving, Flowing, Never-ending touchpoints with people. Do I accept this? Is this how is it? What is this pattern I am observing? Do other people see this as I do?
The childhood psychologist in me says that peculiar sadness stems back experiencing impermanence, loss, lack of love early in life. Divorced parents. Boarding School. Issues with my Dad. A clique really.
Then again, I have always experienced such amazing bonds, joy, happiness with others.
Hanging with Japanese Backpackers at my mum's restaurant
My brothers at Boarding School.
My awesome years at IH.
Travelling in Asia.
Edgeware Kids.
And, more recently, my Palomar5 family.
It ain't like I ended any of these relationships on a sour note, life just seemed to pull me in my own direction. I still maintain contact with people from various walks of my life; others not so. I am making new friends. Maintaining current ones. And slowly saying goodbye to others.
I guess it just weirds me out - if I have had such a rich tapstery, yet impermanent, tapstery of people in life already, what will my life look like when I am 60?
(Especially in the age of the networked economy when we are all going to be a click away for life. Is that kind of ambient awareness a benefit or a hinderance for our collective psychological life? )
I can't even pinpoint the origin of this thought process anymore.
Am I witnessing the pattern of life's impermanence that every spiritual tradition discusses?
Am I simply experiencing delayed grief from a lack of love in my younger years?
Is this a group dynamics thing - mere cognitive overload when you give social grooming as you would like to?
Or am I doing my head again?
