I’ve been trying to write this post all morning, to no avail. I tend to get two or three paragraphs in, and then scrap the lot in the hopes of making something at least slightly more approachable. While there is certainly merit in grandiose, elaborate posts under the right circumstances, it would really defeat the point of this post, which is largely to try and describe something about me that I really want people to understand (and, hopefully, appreciate). Some people live for their kids, or their work, or the sports game, or partying, or books, or any of these things. It’s their passion, what they geek out about, it’s an essential part of who they are.
My passion is the moments. Let me explain: while I geek out about a great many things, like anime, science fiction, games, and various dribs and drabs of technology, the oft-unspoken core principle behind all of it, is the usually brief periods of harmony and deeper connection between myself, the object, and the larger world. I don’t really follow cars all that much, but I can sit and connect with a driving afficionado when talking about that perfect road, where the car handles exactly as you intend, and you get that moment of exhiliration as the world scrolls by outside the vehicle. It’s the moment that I’m geeking out about. I believe that it’s not the experience that causes us to feel a connection, but the act of experiencing it, the process of being in and sharing a particular moment of time, and being aware of that allows us to find ways of connecting to anyone we wish to.
My favorite movies and games and books and music are filled with moments, whether captured intentionally or unintentionally, moments that epitomize a raw emotional response that you are then encouraged to share. Which I think is kind of the point: the sharing of the moment is more important than the moment itself. It is being able to glance over and know that someone you care about is sharing that moment and at least in some incomplete sense, understands. Maybe it’s imagined and they see that beautiful moment and instead notice the buzzing traffic and are annoyed by a mosquito bite, and feel not one whit of harmony. But the perception of understanding is there, and in a lot of ways, that’s just as important.
I’ve come to really value the friends I’ve made through Erica; her friends have welcomed me into their circle in a real and genuine way, and it really means a lot to me. More, perhaps, than I think they probably realize. To have that feeling of connection and kindred spirits is incredibly important, and so hard to pin down and distill into something that can be understood or explicitly encouraged. Suffice it to say that in a period of my life where I have felt overwhelmingly disconnected from my past, it has been heartening to find a connection in my present and potentially my future.