I don’t understand most human socializing. I used to get it, or at least was closer to getting it than now, but those days are long gone. To put it simply, I don’t understand what most humans are seeking to get out of their interactions with others. Here are some of the things I’ve noticed.
So many kids spontaneously play and share with each other. They often use different toys, props, board games, playground equipment, and games they make up on the spot. Any talking that occurs is usually related to whatever type of play they’re doing in any given moment. This seems to very quickly break down any walls between any of the kids and bring them all closer to each other, even when one or more of those kids are meeting for the first time.
Adults, in contrast, will often have little to no physical play. Most adult socializing I see involves sitting down and talking, usually with those they already know well. This talking may be done over food, or alcohol, or, often, both. There’s little to no playing games, dancing, or sharing any other kind of physical activity. The talking is often about nothing in particular, involves lots of interruptions, comes with fast changes of subject and not responding to what someone has said, and usually contains lots of forced laughter. It can also easily turn hostile any second. Verbal fights can break out when the conversation turns toward a major disagreement between two or more participants. Discussions seem to grow shallower, faster, and more likely to devolve into fights as the number of participants increases.
Additionally, many humans I meet still engage heavily in direct eye contact when they talk to others. Much of human eye contact is uncomfortable for me, partly because humans always seem to want to take something from me (whether it’s money from my pocket, words from my mouth, thoughts from my head, or simply time from my life) without giving me something of equal value in return. It’s also often uncomfortable for me because of how much a few particular individuals would force me as a little kid to look at them right in the eyes while they yelled at me, put their faces inches away from mine, and hurt me in other ways. As such, when someone stares intently at me, I experience the lingering pain from those traumatic situations.
Whether with new acquaintances or old friends, I often end up saying little. Aside from my interest in mindfulness, this is largely due to fear and lack of interest. The fear is over the hostility I’ve seen and experienced firsthand from many folks over the course of my life who felt angry at something I said and hurt me in response. Since the world seems to be becoming a more hostile and less patient place, the less I say, the safer I’ll be. Lack of interest covers most of what goes on in casual social circles: small talk, inside jokes, endless teasing each other, references to events I didn’t attend, etc. None of that fascinates me or brings anything to my mind to say in response, and it often leaves me feeling confused, so I generally avoid it or say nothing when faced with any of it. I also find it incredibly difficult to keep up and give everyone my best self when interacting with more than a couple of folks at a time; this is why I prefer one-on-one interactions, a preference most I know don’t seem to share. I love when I get a social respite by interacting with someone who also enjoys quiet presence, slow speaking, or deeper discussions (or all of the above) during smaller gatherings. Like an oasis in the desert, these rare folks leave me feeling refreshed and uplifted.
For all of the above reasons, I feel most comfortable interacting with others around some sort of shared activity. Board games, card games, charades, and especially big physical activities such as soccer, ultimate frisbee, swing dancing, and juggling, are where I’m most at home. Focusing on an activity, particularly one that involves handling some kind of equipment, relieves the pressure of finding things to say and looking others in the eye. When I used to regularly play some kind of sport on Saturday mornings with a few folks I knew, I’d often meet new folks in the process. Whether or not the new person was on my team, we’d introduce ourselves and talk after playing for a while. The game served as a great ice breaker and expended lots of energy (leaving us with less energy to feel upset or start fighting if things took a turn), both of which made the later interaction much easier than if we had started talking right away after meeting in a restaurant, bar, or other low-activity situation.
If you’ve read this blog for a while now, you might have guessed that I generally feel much more comfortable around animals than humans. My dog Sawyer felt perfectly content to just hang out with no words, barking, howling, or anything else. While we often played together, it was also ok to just sit or lie down next to each other or look lovingly into each other’s eyes. Unlike with humans, I loved looking deeply into Sawyer’s eyes and always felt better after seeing the love he showed me in that way. He never judged, condemned, or hurt me for what I said, hurled cruel words at me, or made me feel like a stranger when we hung out. I miss him and I wish I knew more humans like him. The few who come close to his example live far away and don’t get to interact with me much. Fortunately, I get to regularly visit with a few different kinds of friendly animals, including dogs. Being around them always makes my day, especially when I get to visit with one or more Pomeranians as I did today (Sawyer was a Pomeranian and that breed holds a special place in my heart).
This would make me feel quite lonely if I hadn’t gotten good at being good company for myself. I’ve made lots of progress at being kind to myself, handling my emotions in healthy ways, and finding and meeting my own needs. Any one of those is a big ask for anybody else, and expecting anyone to be always available for all of them is a recipe for disappointment. I know that from experience as I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve used that recipe to bake a big disappointment cake and frosted it with frustrated icing. Since I’ve learned how to be my own friend, I’ve felt more at peace with others who interact differently than I like. I don’t attempt to change how they interact with each other, and they don’t attempt to change how I interact with them. Sometimes I’ll have a nice interaction with one or two of them at a time while they’re away from a larger group. Even a brief interaction of that sort is always welcome. I’m glad to have gotten to this place with regard to social interactions, and I look forward to interacting with more humans and animals who share my social preferences.