Observing Life

A friend of mine recently blogged on solitude and being alone and I’ve been giving it some thought today as I work. I find that I often feel “detached” or slightly apart from the groups in which I participate and interact.

Let’s face it, a good writer and bibliophile OBSERVES and doesn’t necessarily PARTICIPATE. I look at social interactions and while I can jump in and have fun or participate, I often find myself stepping back and just watching. Observing.

Sometimes this makes me look deep and intellectual. Other times it makes me look like a hermit or a recluse. Sometimes, it makes even me feel slightly awkward in social situations. It’s hard, damned hard, to switch from observation mode to participatory mode. I pity the fool that tries to force me to switch when I am not ready. heh

I think my favorite poet of all time, Charles Bukowski, said something similar. Something along the lines of “a writer doesn’t live – but watches those who do.”

Am I cursed to remain forever in Limbo-an observer? Or should I view this as a blessing because I CAN detach and look in from the outside. After all, they say an unexamined life is not worth living.

Sometimes, I think the traits that make me a writer and poet are the same traits that keep me distance from all but a very, very select few in my life. Finding that balance between being a complete introvert and living a wanton, unexamined, life can be hard – but I think it’s worth it.

I could wax poetic on this for hours, but I think I’ll leave it at that and solicit your opinions.

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