soapboxdiner


Nothing wrong with a little New Age



Have you ever just sat back and observed all the multitudes of different personalities in this world? My feeble words could never do justice to what a true marvel it is that there is such diversity in the human psyche... and the externalization of it all. It's just too incredible. Not just who and how people are and behave, but in how those people cause you to respond, and what they inspire you to think.

Funny how much formality temps set aside when getting to know their contemporaries. Funny how easily one falls into the habit of rushing through introductary conversations (in a relaxed, uninhibited and unassuming sort of way) to get to the meat, minds, and hearts of those around them who they may or may not ever see again. Some of my best friendships have been those that have only lasted a day.

On this, the Friday before my last week at this company, and honestly speaking where 95% of my socializing takes place, I sat back and truly thought about this diversity. Clint, a jubulent recently transplanted Pheonix AZ Native American man, lank and tall with dark masses of slightly unkempt hair and a chiseled face spoke to me in French about the human condition, Margaret Mitchell, astral planes and his friend whom he tutored on how to read auras.

A most unusual, eccentric and by all appearances intelligent and inquisitive man. But probably more striking, at least to me, was his exuberance. A true free spirit. Smiles and good will about everything. Happiness and willingness. No grind stones bind the man. No work too menial. No person without value. No conversation banal. Always boisterously, aboundingly happy and interesting. Almost too much so.

I so love that in people. Infectious happiness, joie de vie, and tangential thought. How I'd love to have a coffee with him in a musty old cafe with overstuffed chairs and faded brocade tapestries on the walls. But I don't think I'd have the stamina to keep up with his perpetual positivity. Part of me sat in awe, part of me chafed at his freedom, and part of me wished to go on forever feeling as attended to and rampant in thought as I did when talking with Clint today. How is it that one person can elicit such a wide range of emotions in another, in just one brief afternoon?

And I wonder, is this at all similar to how one would feel prior to mass hysteria. The cattle effect (or whatever the scientific term for this is..)? A frenzied premature connection and obliging willingness to follow such a happy pied piper? My all too willing submission bordering on psychosis; Clint, the charismatic snake charmer?

Fortunately for him, when asked if he likes Art Bell, he bellowed a chuckle from deep in his gut and assured me he was NOT new age.

Or maybe the mystery of how to define him is the greater part of the attraction.



9:03 pm - 09.06.02
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