I like to keep to myself. I love silence. Good music and me go well. There’s nothing wrong with that, I thought.
There couldn’t be anything more wrong than that. I’m way more selfish than I thought.
The picture I paint for myself in my head is of the nice guy that causes no troubles. I put in my time at work, I come home to my family, I go to church and I sometimes hang out with some of my friends.
But I’m not curious about other people in this world. I say I have trouble making new friends when I really don’t want new friends. Or so I say.
New friends are a hassle. We have to start from scratch. What movies do you watch? What music are you into? Know who Gary Vee is? Ugh.
But there’s a disease in that thinking. I think it actually kills our souls to isolate ourselves. Why do I distance myself? Probably because I don’t want to show who I am. But I think I prefer to be with me because I don’t want to take the time to know about someone else. It’s excersice for me to be with others outside my circle.
But isn’t excersice good for you?
Being out of shape relationally comes at a price. It develops a cold heart. As the song goes, it builds a fortress around your heart. And in a blink of an eye, you make your dreams of being alone in the quiet come true. Except that dream is carbon monoxide and you’re falling asleep inside the parked car in your solitary garage.
How to escape a prison of your own making? People, at some point, will drain me. But I can’t keep fighting the idea that I can do this life with only my wife, sons and a few friends.
And it’s not that I need many friends either. I want a heart that’s just curious about others. That actually wants to know about the lives of others in this world.
The reality is this life is about the people you meet and the memories you make with them. More people, more memories. I want a library of memories, not just a few books.
What do I value more? We or me?