Filling the void

[ In today’s edition of near daily blogging with Splatospheric, I’m exploring ideas about discomfort and the things we gain when we are made uncomfortable or when we seek discomfort.]

At an art opening a few nights ago, I ran into an acquaintance who introduced me to her friend “Eric” (name changed to preserve his dignity). She explained to him that I was working on a creative placemaking project. He said, “I think I’m working on something similar,” which he then explained in extraordinary detail. He ended his soliloquy with, “What can you do for me?” He literally said that! I literally had just met the guy. Wincing a little, I offered some ideas on how I might approach his project, but he seemed distracted and uninterested in my solicited advice and interrupted with more information about how he planned to execute.

“Sound like you’ve got it all under control! Great meeting you! ” I smiled, then crossed the room to brainstorm with a friend about working together on creative placemaking projects. We bantered until the end of the event and then continued the conversation over drinks at a bar across the street.

At another party the next night, I asked an acquaintance, “What were you for Halloween?” She detailed the process of envisioning and assembling a costume that she believed was brilliant. After 10 or 15 minutes of uninterrupted, breathless stream of consciousness, I said, “Please excuse me but I’ve got to finish writing a post for every-other-day blogging with my friend Karen. She’ll kill me if I don’t get it done.” On the way out, a friend who was leaving at the same time invited me to join her at a nearby bar for one drink, which turned into several drinks fueling a conversation that meandered around love and life and our hopes for the future. I skipped blogging that night. Karen did not kill me.

The next morning, I woke up to this nasty comment on a political post I’d made the previous afternoon on Facebook: “That’s really fucked up and irresponsible. I kind of thought you had a brain.”

Usually when someone disagrees with me about politics on Facebook, I try reasoning with naive optimism and respect. (Plus, in today’s political climate, I genuinely want to understand an opposing viewpoint.) This time, I reflexively blocked the unknown interloper. I did not know the man in real life and he was not a Facebook friend so I did not feel any compunction about the swift eradication. Until two actual friends jumped into the fray to chastise him.

“What a terrible thing to say to someone, whatever their politics. Shame on you, Rob.”

“Agreed, no need for your vulgarity here. You seem to need to learn how to disagree respectfully.”

I wished I’d waited to block the hostile commenter so he could have seen their replies.

When I have felt disconnected and lonely in the past, I would have tolerated bad or irritating behavior in others. I would have been desperate to add them to my collection of “friends”. I would have tried to fill an emotional void in me with “friends”. Not now.