Who are we

 

Subject: Who are we.

It’s funny how we all yearn, deep down for human contact but then on receiving it we find reasons for seeking our own space. We are indeed contrary, full of impulse and insecurities, we fill our minds with flights of fancy mixing them up with the actuality that "no man is an island".

As much as we wish to be independent, free to go where we wish and do our own thing there’s always that nagging doubt that we are missing a special ingredient, that talent we all have for love. Not everyone of course wears their heart on their sleeve, or is unabashed to openly reveal their feelings in this increasingly individualistic world. People sit, hunched up over their computer screen, a doppelgänger, trading their actual reality for a series of phantom realities deep in the twisted cables of a Cloud Based Server linking millions of other phantom relationships across the globe. That sense of security which comes when real people interact isn’t present on the internet, that awareness of presence and companionship is missing and we are the worse for it.

One of the curses of Covid 19 has been the forced segregation of friends and family. The internment within four walls particularly of single people many of them old and infirmed , some nursing pain and thoughts of impending death. Generally speaking we are not designed, mentally, to cope with being on our own, it isolates and draws our thoughts and attention towards ourselves and to the often dismal life we lead.

When we are young we had the optimism to believe that things would improve and we were constantly reminded of our worth as we interact with our young, hedonistic friends. Gradually we whittle down the circle to one, 'the special one' who we then join forces with only, once more, to find ourselves becoming isolated within the forces which make up the in-laws and even their extended family. This is natural, even healthy but we do have to submerge our doppelgänger friend for one more ideologically pleasing to the company we now keep. This double life which subordinates the real you and projects this  manufactured personality for years seeking the approval of those around, people who have no idea of your background and the fundamental essence of who you are. Its a weight which often strains the true values of ones cultural identity.

This diversity is  not black on white, more fish fingers and scampi, a life of contrasts, not conformity, of cricket and not another food program.

At some stage along the path we get our wish and have all the choices we can imagine. Unfortunately by that time our imagination has given up on us and we have to resort to a mishmash of the same old, same old. A trip to see Rome on arthritic ankles or hauling your overweight frame along the beach amongst the naked beauties in the South of France with sun cream and a silly hat takes the edge of everything. Even dinner in a good restaurant is surreal listening to the chatter and the flirting with only the waitress, hoping for a larger tip, making the effort to be nice.

Some people have always been outsiders, standing on the edge of the group and even on a busy street conscious of everyone but with reluctance to feel anything other than being an observer. Albert Camus in his book "The Outsider" describes the existential nature of an individual who refuses to conform to norms, an anti hero who will not conform to the deceit of society and refuses to lie when his life depended on it. The ultimate sacrifice !