Connection

I was wondering what I might write about, and this popped up. I am a conundrum. I’m simultaneously loud and outgoing and, at the same time, socially awkward and emotionally reclusive. If these are in balance, I can experience that as a pleasant way to navigate my time. I enjoy people. I enjoy spending time with people. I have dozens of friends who I’m always happy to see.

I also thrive in solitude. I like to spend time with myself, pondering, writing, or zoning out on a movie I’ve seen a dozen times: It’s a Wonderful Life, Time Bandits, Terminator, A Few Good Men, The Lego Move.

There is a fairly generous range of proportion when it comes to the balance. While fifty-fifty would be ideal, I can go up to seventy-thirty and still be well. If I go past that in the realm of public interaction, I get worn out and sullen. If I spend too much time in solitude, it morphs into isolation, and that has had some particularly awful consequences.

I think that I am in a rarified circumstance by living on an island. Orcas Island in particular, and for that I am grateful. In the movie Field of Dreams, Doc Graham has this to say: “This is my most special place in all the world, Ray. Once a place touches you like this, the wind never blows so cold again. You feel for it, like it was your child.”

I had the good fortune to spend eight years in Bali. I had friends, I belonged to a tennis club, I was in a band. Even with all that, Bali never felt like home. When I came back to Orcas, as I walked off the ferry, the feeling of relief was palpable.

I have found, over time, that it is important to my well-being to be in the middle. I have a group of friends that I meet with a couple of times a week that help me do that. I have a friend that I talk to every morning during the week that helps. I will reach out and make calls to long-distance friends so I can catch up with them. And, of course, there is the Market.

All of this takes a certain amount of courage to break past some sort of built-in reluctance I have for social contact. As long as I stay with it, it is never too daunting and fairly simple to overcome.

Living on Orcas Island, and most importantly the people who I share this wonderland with, gifts me the opportunity to be ‘part of’. Later today, I’ll drive from Deer Harbor to Eastsound. If all goes well, I’ll go to the Fitness Center and go swimming. I’ll wander over to Heather’s to give Zoey one of the practice amps we own to go with the purple Stratocaster she has taken over. I’ll stop by at the Market to get something I need, but won't know what it is until I go in. The odds are that during these two hours in town, I will see twenty people I know and probably have a conversation with five of them. Having spent the morning at home, this should be just about right.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll live here for the rest of my life. I sure hope so. Thank you, Orcas Island.