When I was younger, trips were often a good time for writing. I’d post blog entries from airports at 6am, the broken routine kicking my words loose. I thought I’d do the same this time, but I’ve been busy (in lovely ways).
On the way down here, the woman next to me struck up a conversation that lasted the entire flight. It was about life direction, the intersection of careers and personal fulfillment, family dysfunction, attachment theory, etc. Very much my sort of thing. I’ve been thinking a lot about attachment, my compulsion to seek deep connections with people, and my dissatisfaction with relationships that feel more superficial. I have a strong need for a certain kind of attention — something that represents investment or interest in me as a person. A natural and healthy need in anyone, I’m sure, but only to a degree.
I think a lot of it has to do with a sense of scarcity or insecurity around friendships and relationships, and a fear of losing the connections I have. Likely exacerbated by the social isolation so common for men my age. We could dig into some fun childhood stuff here, but instead I’ll just say that I feel like I’m making good progress in recognizing and managing that piece of me, and holding that contact lightly.
Since I arrived in the bay area a couple of days ago, I’ve been spending all my time talking to old friends and driving around listening to boygenius. Two and a half sad lesbians — what’s not to love? (“Two and a half lesbians” was the name of the band my wife was going to form with a couple of friends, actually…)
It’s been great. The only downside to all this socialization is that I’ve made no progress in my book, but that just means I have a lot of book left, and it’s quite a good one.