A few days ago the little blue speech-bubble on facebook told me someone had written to me. Surprise, surprise a face from my past popped up and greeted me with the words “Do you still know me?”
I was thrilled to see this photo of a man I once knew and a whole flood of memories invaded my brain of a few summers spent long ago. My younger self had enjoyed his company and the time we spent together in and out of the theater. I was a student back then with big dreams and a smaller waistline. My inner hippie was much more active and I had decided to try my hand at acting to varying degrees of success.
While I was skipping down memory lane and opening all those partially forgotten drawers filled with snapshots of the past and memories of happy times the five little words that started this trip struck a cord in me. “Do I still know him?”.
This harmless question got me thinking about how do we know if we know anyone, do we even know ourselves and do others know us? As my mind spiraled out of control and a whole slew of questions came tumbling down I suddenly realised that knowing someone may actually not be that much fun.
Predictability is a great thing but also a little bit boring. Yes, I want to know how people feel, think, interact and react but I also want them to surprise me. I love finding out new things about people I love and when my sister tells me she listens to this band or likes that person I enjoy that I can still wrinkle my nose in disgust and turn to her and say “really?” with a whole array of undertones. I cherish all the information people share with me about their inner most feelings and secrets, I lock them up and hold them dear but I also know there is so much more in their treasure troves of being for me to find out about.
Getting to know someone, even yourself, is like planting a tree and watching it grow. All the information you find out, all the times you spend together, all the memories you created in unison helps the tree grow and bear fruit. So yes, I still know him, or part of him anyway and I hope that the tree of knowing him that was stunted in its growth many years ago will receive new nourishment and grow up to be a bigger tree in the orchard of my life.
jensinewall 
I’m holding on to the most important part of your “view of the room”…”Getting to know someone, even yourself,…..” and would change the word *even yourself* to:
especially yourself….and I don ‘t mean that in a selfish, narcissistic or egocentric tone of….self-discovery. Know what I mean…..?
I do … and yes sometimes even and especially can be interchangeable 🙂
Your musings (can I call them musings?) are thought provoking….especially this one. Well done.
You can call them whatever you like … i just think I dip into the chaos of my mind and try to pull out some coherent thoughts. So glad that you enjoy them. Been only a month into blogging and amazed at the fact that people (strangers at that) read what I am writing
It becomes (if one thinks about it waaaay too much) that you can [actually] have “peeps”…your very own “peeps” who don’t live next door….but half-way around the world. Daunting. Creative thinking is good. It intrigues me, as an artist, to keep in mind that creative processes are so unique to each individual…which is why our “view of the room” always has a different panorama and becomes a separate distillery of facts from someone standing next to you shoulder to shoulder. Assemblage. WOW…I’ll quit now and step off my soap box.
I’ve got to get my own distillery working and respond to the SUNSHINE thingy you and Nowan Zen bestowed upon me last week…….
have fun and distill away … Hope the sun is shining for you
Thanks…and….sunshine in realness as opposed to blocked by cloud cover….always good. Same back to you………………
I had a similar experience. I even went to visit my long lost friend and I recalled all of the things I didn’t like about him. I kind of wish I had just kept the fond memories! Curiousity was satisfied, however so it wasn’t an entirely wasted trip!
i know sometimes memories are best ket just that … something we remember fondly but I am like that cat, curiousity always calls
Me, too. It keeps us on our toes? Ha ha!