It hit me this morning, as I was driving to the office after picking up a few groceries ahead of yet another inbound snowstorm, that I’m awfully lonely.
Put away your handkerchiefs (does anyone carry those anymore?)
How old are you again?”
— The Kid
Seriously this isn’t a self-pity party. The truth is I barely think about it (which might, in part, explain the result — what gets measured gets managed). But when I do think about it, I realize that I have very few people in my life with whom I share a close, personal connection or who really know “who I am.”
Maybe part of this is a function of age (shut up, kid). I’m busy. I work all day, go home at night, eat, attend to household and family stuff, and go to bed by 10 p.m. so I can be up by 5 a.m. to attend to my own stuff before the rest of the world intrudes and begins making demands on my time. I don’t go to happy hour (or didn’t, pre-COVID when people were going to happy hours), I don’t have folks over for dinner, I don’t belong to a book club or a bowling league or a support group of any kind. I’m just busy being me. I read, I write, I meditate, I exercise, I do work to pay the bills, then I sleep. Rinse, repeat.
Brian Koppelman, writer and showrunner for Billions, on his excellent podcast The Moment, said recently that he’s making an effort to ensure that his public and private personas are in sync. That he’s not one person privately and another person in public. That he’s trying live honestly and consistently. (He, in fact, said none of these things verbatim, but I believe I’m doing the gist of what he was talking about justice.) When I heard this I thought — gee, that sounds great. Then I thought — What exactly is my public persona?
I don’t mean to imply that I’m a hermit or a misanthrope. If you interviewed the people I interact with the most I’m pretty sure they’d all agree that I’m outgoing, maybe even gregarious. I know how to talk to people and I enjoy doing it. I love a good conversation, especially with intelligent, thoughtful people.
I’m just not… doing it. At least I don’t feel as if I am. I’m not sure anyone really knows me as I really am.
I don’t know if there’s a solution to this, and I’m not wrapping this up with any pithy advice. If I come across some, I promise I’ll share it here. In the meantime, I’ll be thinking about it over here by myself.