A friend of mine recently commented on how I have a thing for pain and suffering. She's right, of course (she usually is). I have a fascination for things that hurt and burn, that twist and torment, and pain and burden us. These are the sort of things that define who we are. There's nothing interesting about a person who's happily going on about their way; they're just there.
But when we're in the trying circumstances that life throws at us, we show our true colors and expose ourselves. That's the sort of thing that really lets you find out what sort of person someone is, and really that's the most interesting part about human interaction.
So while it's certainly pleasant to be happy and well, it's the moments in life when we're hurt and damaged that are of significance.
On nights like tonight when my cheeks have gone numb (my way of telling whether I'm drunk), I like to reflect upon the thoughts that have come and gone throughout the day.
I sometimes think about how interesting it would be to be a stranger to someone else. We often find it difficult to open up to friends, for though we consider them near and dear to us, the fact remains that oftentimes we worry about how they'll judge us for what we say and what we do. How difficult it is to tell a friend about a time when we were untrue to someone we loved (or thought we loved), or how we were dishonest when the best of their faith was placed in us. We hold ourselves to higher moral judgment because we want to be held in a high moral light.
Yet, were a stranger to come to us and offer a kind ear and sympathetic voice, we would be so glad to open ourselves to them. For when it's with a stranger, we no longer need to worry about how we'll face them tomorrow, or at a group dinner, or at any other sort of gathering where we'll be face to face with those whose opinions we hold high and important. Knowing that a stranger is here for now and gone tomorrow allows us to say things that we would otherwise never want identified with us, yet are inextricably a part of us. The hideous things about us that we don't want anyone to know, yet burden us so that we desperately wish to let them go.
While letting others know of our most ashamed thoughts might not make them go away, it nonetheless makes the burden easier to bear; and in doing so, helps us find the courage and the strength to come to terms with it in our own way.
I hear this saying (or some derivative of it) quite frequently: "You're not interesting unless you're interested." Taken at face value, it's a legitimate claim. It seems to hold true in many cases, too.
Recently, I saw this quote posted:
"To be interesting, be interested. Ask questions that other person will enjoy answering. Encourage them to talk about themselves and their accomplishments."
I can't help but feel like this has taken the original sentiment and turned it into a manipulative game where you're not really interested in the person, but you fake it to try to get the person to find you interesting. I wonder how easy it is for people to tell when you're genuinely interested in them, and not just asking them questions in hope that they'll find you interesting as well.
I'd rather be honest and ask things that I'm curious about, and if it turns out that what I've got to offer just isn't very interesting to the other person then so be it.