Orbits
Feeling freefall
My original orientation once was, “the closer I can get to something or someone, the more involved, integral, and exposed, the better.” I was born into a world I wanted to merge with, to meld into. Everything seemed so rich, so beautiful, so fascinating. I just wanted to know it all, intimately, from the inside out. This included things, like VCRs and toys, but also people, too.
As I’ve grown, I’ve learned to not be so ferocious in my hunger for this, but I suspect it’s still very much there. The call of the void looks different for every person, I imagine, but for me it still looks like wanting to be subsumed.
But now... seeing the impossibility of the chemical and alchemical work involved in producing a “perfect meld” — seeing the nuances of incompatibility of things and people, and indeed, of everything in this world. My friend’s music preferences clash with mine; the hoops I need to jump through for clients feel arbitrary; my bed doesn’t match my aesthetic.
Maybe these worlds are not made to merge. Maybe they exists as they do due to the interplay of things, people, and egregores. Maybe our inborn goal isn’t to find a “perfect,” final fit, but to find a million and one “dynamic,” intermediate fits. Stable orbits, if you will.
What does that mean, specifically? In a relationship, I might be tempted to figure out how to spend more time with the person, meet them on every level, seek their connection on all of my levels, etc. But maybe I can learn to hold the desire, the longing, and let the roots and vines grow gradually, over time. Maybe I needn’t over-plan or over-tend. Gaps and spaces are where the relationship can let light and air in, to grow.
I’m guessing it’s the same for work and life. Do I need these things to fit so perfectly, or is the feeling of dissonance and discord a flicker of a sign that there is more to see and do? Is a “perfect fit” now or forever a false idol?
Maybe learning to find that sweet spot and rest in it—rather than riding the red line all the time—would make me happier and more fulfilled? I suppose there’s only one way to find out. Stable orbits might feel like freefall, or weightlessness, and maybe that’s what I can learn to feel more gracefully and willingly.
