Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Observer

I had lunch with a friend of mine today. In the course of our conversation, he thanked me for being his friend and keeping his secrets. "I'm so blessed to have you," he said. "I can tell you anything and feel safe."

Immediately I told him that I was keeping a video journal and had been recording our talks for years. As soon as he's rich, I've got it made. We both had a big laugh, and then I turned off the hidden camera ...

Later in the day, I thought about what he said. It's true that over the years he has shared a lot with me. Not that he's hiding anything particularly terrible. His are the normal concerns and lapses of someone who has a busy life with wife, children, work, church, parents, etc. I'm glad I can be there when he's troubled and needs an ear and a prayer.

However, as I thought about it, I realized I didn't have anyone like me for me. Someone to listen without judging. Without trying to fix anything. Just an ear and support. I'm sure this absence is my fault and not of the people around me. I have several friends who would listen if I asked. I don't ask.

Oh, I talk to my friends. I'm not a total privacy freak. I do share some of my life, but I hold back. Don't know why. Always been that way. There's always been a part of me -- another me -- that sits back and judges my reactions and the reactions of others. It's rare when I'm totally engaged in anything enough for me to not be aware of this neutral, rather cynical, inherently cautious observer.

I wonder where this observer came from. He's been with me for as long as I can remember. Even as a little child, I was conscious of that other presence, that other me. I wonder why.

I remember a poem that goes like this:

Love your friends
and love them well
but to your friends
no secrets tell

for if your friends
become your foes
then your secrets
all will know


I'd hate to think I've been that paranoid all my life. That afraid. But maybe so.

Or ... maybe he's a alien who is watching our world through my eyes before his race invade our pitiful planet. Maybe other people have Observers, too. Maybe we are all carriers for inhuman monsters ...

Or maybe I need to stop watching the SyFy Channel so much.

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2 comments:

Constance Burris said...

For the most part, I have that same person within me, that sits back and observes other people. I look at other people's mistakes and I try not to make them. I grew up in a crazy family, so that obeserving, quiet person kept me out of trouble. In fact, I was able to graduate HS and college when my five others bros. and sis didn't make it to high school.

I also used to sit and listen to others, especially my best friend. But when I actually started going through things, I had to learn to share my feelings with others, because it makes life a lot less lonely.

SBB said...

I think writers may have this observer built in or develop it. By observing, we learn how people interact and react. From this, we write stories. Yes?