Saturday, February 20, 2010

51. Different drummer


When he was young he pulled the counterpane over his head and listened to the muffled sounds of the world. He liked it like that, muffled and distorted, but distant. He envisaged the shape he made from the outside, lumpy and irregular, but disguised. He carried this image of himself existing outside his own body, floating freely, listening and looking. His mother called it fly-on-the-wall-itis. He wished she did not watch him. He wished she did not know. How did she know?

Now that he is older, he has graspd the wisdom of other manifestations of singularity. Preferring one’s own company is frowned upon by others; generally, others who only feel alive in company. He frequents parks. He is neither lonely nor alone. He is simply by himself.

He doesn’t need to re-invent himself. He doesn’t need to talk. He thrives on listening, on watching, on thinking. And on writing.

8 comments:

Joan Elizabeth said...

I relate to this young man ... not the fly on the wall bit but the enjoying being alone ... some people do find that odd.

A nice description that draws one in.

Vicki said...

As a hermit, this really resonates with me. It’s why I love living remotely.I imagine this is also you, Julie.

counterpane -- another new (old) word: noun (dated) a bedspread

Julie said...

I deliberately chose counterpane rather than bedspread or quilt or doona. It has a poetic lilt to it.

Yep ... a bit of self-analysis going on there. But I am the mother too ... somehow.

Julie said...

Although I dream of living on acreage I think I am better off living in the tumult of the city. More to soak up ...

Vicki said...

And for me that would be stressful. I prefer when I can’t see or hear any evidence of civilisation at all. The outback appeals to me for that very reason.

Joan Elizabeth said...

I'm with you. I don't mind city buzz at all. For me it's because it is an anonymous type of buzz, I can be singular within it.

Unlike Vicki, I don't like being very isolated in the sense of out in the nothingness.

I like somewhere in between, I guess that's why I am so happy in the mountains.

I also think there is something of 'roles' in each of us ... when we have to turn on extrovert charm it's easy enough to do, just so long as there is a time of retreat not too far away.

Vicki said...

"I also think there is something of 'roles' in each of us ... when we have to turn on extrovert charm it's easy enough to do, just so long as there is a time of retreat not too far away."

Exactly!!

Julie said...

Yes, I agree regarding roles, too. It is a bit like acting. You psych yourself up knowing that it is for a limited time. Like yesterday, I had a family gathering with lots of cousins. I was totally exhausted by the end of it, even though I enjoyed myself. I have this concept of my blood "burbling". That is my Greta Garbo moment.