Heartbreaker/Heartbroken (8-28-16)

“I find you fascinating.” The words echoed in my brain for days after Sophie left. No one had ever told me I was fascinating let alone someone I had just met. I found her inspiring. She was the kind of person you read about or the kind they make independent films about. She was brave and sharp. She had so much going for her yet she was still thoughtful and kind. She didn’t have to be. Honestly no one has to be, but when you were as captivating as Sophie with a presence that causes double takes and attracts many a man’s attention, one would forgive such failings. Actually, Sophie didn’t have any failings, at least none I could see in the short time I knew her. In fact, she had an aura about her… one that conveyed peace and love in a charming and realistic way. I’ve met some people who conveyed a message of peace and love before but they would lose me in new age rhetoric and spiritual speak that’s beyond my grasp. Now, this is not a critique of those people, it’s just more difficult to relate to and communicate with people who are speaking a somewhat different language. This brings me back to Sophie. She told me the best way she knew to understand people was through “patience and love”. Patience for those times when the timing isn’t right or when the words and gestures are not quite understood and love for every occasion so that no matter what the result, you’ll have no regrets. I was a few years older than Sophie but her soul seemed twice my age. She was wise. She was lovely. She was funny. It’s really too bad I never got her last name.

I was on a train to Chicago. She was getting off in Cleveland. Our paths crossed between Erie, PA and Lebron’s house. That’s when curiosity got the better of me. It was my first time on a train and I began to wonder if my train was like those trains in the movies… what cool stuff and adventures might I find? I got up and began to wander around the train, exploring and slowly taking it all in as I often do. I met Sophie near the bathroom. I wasn’t actually going to the bathroom; I just wanted to make sure I knew where it was and how it looked inside. It doesn’t hurt to know your assets and liabilities when you are on a 12 hour ride. After inspecting the facilities I heard a voice ask me a question from a nearby seat. “First time on a train?” It came from this beautiful dark haired woman with a winning smile who had this incredible sparkle in her eyes. I stopped dead in my tracks. I just looked at her, stunned for a moment before I could muster a reply. Just as I was finally about to answer she added; “You’re looking around with the eyes of a child.” I smiled. “Is it that obvious?” She smiled back. “No, it’s wonderful. Most adults do not maintain the sense of wonder and appreciation a child does. That’s a beautifully rare thing. ” Usually when I meet people I’m very nervous. My introverted and anxious nature makes me seem awkward and slow to respond as I’m trying to get a read on the person, process what is happening, especially in the awe-inspiring presence of an attractive woman. Those are usually the most difficult conversations for me to have. I usually sound like a bumbling, rambling nerd in such scenarios but Sophie provided me a level of comfort I wasn’t used to. She was sitting with an empty seat and asked me to join her. I went to the front of the car, grabbed my backpack and hurried back. I wanted to run back as fast as I could but of course, I wanted to be cool. It felt like a sitcom moment where I exaggerated my walk so that I could rush but still seem a little extra suave. I probably ended up looking rather foolish. I think Sophie saw right through me but appreciated the effort… for the humor of it.

We exchanged first names and small talk but within 5 minutes we were having the kind of deep conversation I would need to know someone for years to have. I don’t even remember how we got there. We discussed philosophy, emotions, motivations and behavior like 2 people who knew each other intimately. It was scary yet so exciting at the same time. If I had stopped to think about the depths of it all as we spoke, I might have been compelled to pull back but we kept going, kept digging for almost an hour. She was amazing. The kind of person I would dream about. Was she real? That hour passed by so quickly and upon our arrival in Cleveland she quickly apologized for having to leave, grabbed her backpack, gave me a heartfelt hug and flashed her magnetic smile as she walked out of my life. We had only exchanged first names, nothing more. The last thing she said to me after apologizing for having to leave so abruptly was that she really enjoyed our conversation... “Thank you Eddie. That might have been the most sincere conversation I’ve had in years! I really hope you can mend your broken heart someday. I know you will.“ I wished her luck with her own problem she was having that necessitated her trip to Cleveland. I think we really helped each other that day, both in lending an ear to someone who was going through something significant, and offering compassionate and non-judgmental feedback. It was a perfect moment in time. One I’ve never forgotten.

Sophie had this theory about me. She asked me about my childhood and teen years growing up. She asked me about my relationships with my parents, with close friends, girlfriends etc. She came to a conclusion that floored me. She told me I’ve had a broken heart ever since I was little. She thought that I never received the love I gave out and expected to receive in return and my heart stayed broken because the relationships I had did not truly satisfy me.  She spoke of my underlying sadness. She said it’s there even when I’m happy; it’s just there in the background. How did she know? She suggested I was perpetually broken hearted, always looking for someone to help me repair it but never able to find the right person, that I was basically waiting for someone to save me. She told me I was living my own fairy tale. When she said all of this, I thought she it was a bit too much but the more we talked about it the more I was willing to entertain her theory. Sophie was a sweet person; she had no reason to bullshit me, no motivation to hurt me. She was the kind of person who always seemed to want to help others… my favorite kind of person. She was just sharing her observations with me. Maybe I do have this perpetual broken heart. Maybe I am waiting for someone to come and save me. I keep thinking about the last thing she said to me, “I really hope YOU can mend your broken heart someday. I know YOU will.” Sophie thought the answer to my lifelong broken heartedness was to fix it myself. That would explain why I haven’t found anyone who could do it. She also thought I would get there myself someday. Looking back, I wish she had stayed on to Indiana because then maybe she could have told me how to accomplish this feat but perhaps that would have defeated the purpose. This conversation was so many years ago and barely a blip in the story of my life but lately I’ve been thinking of Sophie.

The last few weeks have been very difficult. Many awful things were happening and then I confounded the problems by doing what I always do, thinking about it far too much, being too sensitive and making things worse. By nature I am a constant worrier. I don’t always vocalize it but I often worry about everything. I worry about things I can control and things I cannot. I try to remember not to worry about things I cannot control but when worrisome things start to pile up, when too much adversity unexpectedly arrives at once, sometimes I get overwhelmed. I’m just so damn sensitive. If some of my crazy leaked out and affected you lately I apologize. I guess I do have a broken heart.

A lifelong broken heart… it might justify the root cause of why I’m so sensitive. Introversion surely plays an important role, as does being easily over-stimulated, highly empathetic, a tad obsessive and even a bit dramatic. I try too hard; I always try to hang on to a good time or a good thing. I never let anything go. I never forget. I never completely move on. If something important happens, good or bad, if something touches me, it never leaves. I never get over things. I think it’s because my heart IS broken. It has been for as long as I can remember starting with my parents never giving me everything I wanted from them emotionally and it continued and snowballed from there.

Okay, so I’m broken hearted by nature. Does that mean I am always sad or depressed? No it doesn’t, but those things are never far away. I wonder if this is just a case of; it is what it is. Some people seem like they are always happy. Some people seem like they are always in a bad mood. I am neither. But the way my life has played out, all the pain I’ve experienced, the relationships I’ve had, or better yet the lack of relationships I’ve had have helped to shape me into this broken hearted romantic who still believes in love and dreams despite the lack of personal evidence in the field. So maybe it IS easier to hurt me, maybe I DO feel too much, so what? Despite any mistakes that I have made during the course of my life, I don’t regret nor will I ever regret how I feel or have felt. My feelings make me who I am but yes, they can work to my detriment as well. I will work to be better at controlling my feelings so that I don’t get lost in them for days, months or even decades. I’ll work to do a better job of my emotions and feelings having less of an impact on my actions.

I think too much AND I feel too much. Is that rare? I know the famous saying is “we think too much and feel too little”. For good and bad, I embrace it. For the most part I like who I am. I like that I think and feel too much. I just have to be aware of who I am at all times and when situations test me. I just need better control over my thoughts and emotions so that I don’t make bad things worse, so I don’t turn good things into disasters and great things into obsessions. Am I perpetually broken hearted? Yes, probably but maybe when Sophie hoped that I could mend my broken heart, perhaps she didn’t mean it so literally. Not every situation that presents itself before us is one that needs to be fixed in plain terms. Instead of trying to fix something that maybe I can’t technically fix perhaps it’s better to accept it, adapt to it and make it a strength instead of a perceived weakness. Something like using my crazy powers for good instead of evil over lamenting that I have them in the first place. Is this what Sophie meant? Sometimes our struggles, our flaws, our adversity and how we respond to those things should be what defines us, not our ability to ignore them and pretend we are people that we are not. I dunno, I’m a work in progress and I’ll never be finished. I’ll never be perfect or complete or completely satisfied with everything and you know what, it’s okay. I’ll keep trying to do better than the last time because that's the point, to be better than we were. And as for my broken heart… it still works. Thank you Sophie. I hope your heart is filled with joy and fascination. 

My Olympic Observations (8-19-16)

I've been enjoying the Olympics thus far but I've had some thoughts about what we're seeing and not seeing.

My Olympic Observations:

1. A lot of athletes from around the world go to school in the U.S. There have been countless times where they talked about a foreign athlete from almost anywhere in the world and they say “he/she attends the university of Iowa”. It makes me think wow, even though America has a lot of problems, even though our higher education system is flawed financially, we are still a world destination and a place where citizens of the world want to be. Imagine if we fixed the brutal student loan system and the government wasn’t trying to profit on young people who are punished for the crime of trying to better themselves.
2. From what we see on television Rio looks like heaven on earth but don’t let the media fool you. There are so many people struggling in Rio and in Brazil as they have brutal income inequality and corruption throughout their government worse than we do. They also have a notoriously brutal and corrupt police force which has killed more people in the city of Rio alone than our police have killed in the entire USA this year. This spotlight on Rio should serve as a warning to us. This is where we are heading. We aren’t living in favelas yet, with starving have-nots in slum villages “living”, if you can call it that, in the shadows of glorious shopping centers for the haves but we’re getting damn close.

2. I think we need a new national anthem. Don’t get me wrong, the old one is okay. I always thought it was a great burn that it was set to a popular high society British tune but I think its’ time has passed. For one, we like the British now. They are our friends. It seems pretty disrespectful that our national anthem is a dig at one of our closest friends. For two, the language in that thing is so antiquated. No one speaks that way anymore except when they are singing the thing. Some may find that romantic, I just find it tired. It’s okay to evolve. Third and most importantly, the entire song is about a great battle in Baltimore harbor during the war of 1812. I understand that it’s a source of national pride because we won that pivotal battle and the war, but at what point does the song do more harm than good? That battle happened over 200 years ago! I mean, America is thought of around the world as an arrogant bully and our national anthem sings of rockets and bombs, yee haw! I dunno, perhaps this type of thinking influences our aggressive, violent culture. From childhood we are singing or constantly hearing about how we fought and kicked England’s ass and how wonderful it was. Maybe if our anthem was something more inclusive and respectful, we’d be more inclusive and respectful. The things we regularly say, or in this case sing, have more of an influence on us than we think. We simply take it for granted but just maybe, if you have a violent national anthem, you might be more likely to have violent culture… just saying.

3. I hate any “sport” where someone is riding a horse. I’m sorry, not sorry, I can’t do it. When equestrian comes on I now always cringe and change the channel. The funniest part to me is when the horse doesn’t quite make a jump or doesn’t perform as desired and the commentators remark about how the person on the horse didn’t make it. “Oh, Richard came up a little short there.” or “Angela clipped the bar on that jump.” Respect the horse! I just can’t get over how we humans see a large majestic creature and the first thing we think is, hey let’s ride it! I dunno, maybe it’s just me.

4. My favorite thing about the Olympics is the overall brilliance of the humanity assembled. Countries that are friends, foes, something in between assemble and compete peacefully, together for 2 weeks and united on a global level. What else in this world can achieve that? The only flaw in it is the competition element, but that notwithstanding, to see all the countries come together and co-exist for even a short period of time is a beautiful thing.