Human connection is endlessly fascinating. People are always in at least two different dialogues, one that is actually spoken, while the other remains unspoken, unvoiced. And then of course there is the monologue inside your head – which is not to be confused with the unspoken dialogue that you are having with others.
I am negotiating different understandings of life and love. Loving yourself sometimes borders on narcissism. And loving others more than yourself borders on a lack of self-worth. To strike up a balance, to find that supposed place of equilibrium is rather confusing. When placed in a dialogue with the other, borders and boundaries are re-defined, reshaped, and your sense of self stretches as you find a comfort zone. But that’s the thing. I keep discovering that comfort zones are constantly shifting, changing, and what I am comfortable with today is not necessarily what I find safe tomorrow.
When the ground is never as solid as you think, when variables change, it is important to maintain stability. And this stability is what I question. Do we find solace in the familiar, in routine, in stability? I am wondering whether words can speak on behalf of this in-betweenness, of being both here and there, of two or three simultaneous dialogues, and of being both in the present and glancing over your shoulder as tomorrow looms closer.
And that’s all for now.