Personal Questions, Personal Answers

This has the potential to be one of the longest blog entries I've ever written. I may split it if it gets too unwieldy.

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I've been going over old blogs in search of new material, and I've found a motherlode. Back in January, 2015, I wrote a post entitled "How To Fall In Love With Anyone".  Well, 90% of anyone. Sit down for about ninety minutes, ask each other a set of increasingly personal questions, and listen closely to each other's answers. This has been scientifically proven to bring people much closer together--even near strangers stand a ninety percent chance of being friends after this exercise.

What I DIDN'T do was answer the questions.

And so:

Set I: Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?

John Michael Greer, the former Grand Archdruid of the Ancient Order of Druids in America, whose blog is linked in this sidebar, whose thoughts on a wide range of topics I highly respect.

Would you like to be famous? In what way? 

You know, I don't think so. Famous people seem to attract a great number of hangers-on, yes-men, and other fakery. With fame often comes great wealth, and I have never wanted to be rich, either. Comfortable, yes. Rich, no.

Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?

Never. I don't understand this sudden and intense phobia that has developed, seemingly globally, over the past decade when it comes to actually speaking words rather than typing them.  I have suggested that texting is a giant step backwards in communication, and I stand by that, even though I'm forced to do it all the fucking time.

What would constitute a "perfect" day for you? 

I could break this down into stupidly minute detail: long hot shower, breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausages, bacon, hash browns, toast, and coffee, and go on and on from there (fresh new Happy Feet by MacGregor to put on, blah, blah, blah...) or I could just say a day full of loving and being loved, in whatever form that takes. I have a lot of days like that, now.

When did you last sing to yourself? 
Last night: L'architecte, by Lynda Lemay. To someone else?
I can't remember. That's been a while...I have to be supremely comfortable with someone to do that...and have an occasion to do it. I'm sure it was Eva, but not sure of the song.

 If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?

MY 30-year-old body? Never had one. Mental acuity, without question. But if you could give me the body of a 30-year-old in peak human condition...that would make this question slightly more difficult.

Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die? 

No. I've dreamt countless times of dying violently, but I'm usually able to convince myself that's just dreaming.

Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.

Let's answer this one for the three people closest to the centre of my life. I will skip the rest of the exercise-specific questions that ask you to talk about your partner, but this one:

Eva: Radiate calm, often even when feeling anything but; open, loving heart; restless, curious mind.
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Intensely emotional; quick witted and eloquent; value closeness of all kinds very, very highly.
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Genuine interest in people and their stories; loyal almost to a fault; regularly take on the weight of the world because neither of us knows how to walk without it.

For what in your life do you feel most grateful?

Love. Maybe a trite answer, but a true one.

If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?

I believe every child should have the experience of moving homes once. Once. I did it six times in eight years.

If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?

Perseverance. There's a whole suite of linked qualities there: I bore too easily, I can tell you four hundred reasons why any effort I expend will amount to nothing, and I fear rejection, as noted above. If I had perseverance...let's just say my life would be dramatically different. Better? Who can tell? But probably.

 Set II 

If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know?

This answer has wildly varied over the course of my life. Right now I would ask it to tell me what the next five years hold in store. I don't want to look any further ahead. I'm going through a slow pivot right now and I'm not sure where it's taking me.

Is there something that you've dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?

I have dreamt of surprising my father and just showing up at his door one day, driving something like this. I can just picture myself with an M-class license, but I would want something a little more stable than a standard motorcycle and with extra cargo capacity. Why haven't I done it? A matter of money, primarily. Not just the money to buy the thing, the money to carry it.

What is the greatest accomplishment of your life? 

Given the childhood I had? The fact that I consider myself to be a reasonably healthy and well-adjusted adult. If you read psychology texts, I should be a monster.

What do you value most in a friendship?

Authenticity.

What is your most treasured memory? 

Getting married, without question. (That link brings you lots of extra added bonus material).

What is your most terrible memory? 

I have too many of these. I will go with the day I almost drowned in a septic tank.  (Extra material here to tell you why this incident has shaped my faith in a higher power, call it what you will.)

If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why? 

I'm not above trying to exploit that.  (Oh, that hurts to acknowledge). But it's not as if the knowledge that I'm going to die in a year suddenly grants me enough money to fulfill even one item on that bucket list I just posted.

What does friendship mean to you? 

A shoulder to cry on, an ear to hear, and a comfortable presence.

What roles do love and affection play in your life? 

They are the cornerstones. You know how the dictum of communism is "from each according to his ability, to each according to her need?" I view poly as a sort of personal communism, and I try to dole out love and affection in whatever form and extent it's accepted, and I'll accept it freely in return. I don't believe in artificial lines for myself...but I will respect yours.

How close and warm is your family?

Not. Not at all. There are numerous deep, irreparable fractures. A few close individual relationships, but they only serve to throw reigning dysfunction into sharper relief.

Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people's? 

FUCK NO. Horrid family dynamics for the first five years, not enough structure for the next four, largely friendless into my teens, victim of extensive bullying and ostracism...what about that says 'happy' to you?

How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?

Terribly, terribly conflicted. We loved each other deeply, and had a whole hell of a lot in common...but at the same time I'm not sure we ever understood each other.


Set lll

 Complete this sentence: "I wish I had someone with whom I could share ... "

This one I can't answer in that construction. I have multiple people in my life with whom I can share anything--and multiple people I share.

If you were going to become a close friend with your partner, please share what would be important for him or her to know.

I'm polyamorous; I'm not comfortable in crowds or overly strange settings; I may not be going anywhere fast in my life but by damn I'm making the best of where I am. I'm extremely private with strangers, extremely open with friends, and supremely vulnerable because of it...and I wouldn't have it any other way. Shared pain is lessened; shared joy is increased; I have a lot of dark places in me that aren't used to being lit. I can't hurt someone without an awfully compelling reason, and sometimes even with one. Love is freedom, not possessiveness. If I withdraw from an argument, it's because I'm too angry to see all sides of it clearly; give me some time and I'll be back--probably conceding you were right and I was wrong. Please don't feel the need to put on airs: you are no more special than I am and I am no more special than you are. Violence of any kind offends me and can actually physically sicken me. I'm stingy with money, not because I don't want to be otherwise, but because I have experienced being otherwise and it's soul-deadening. I zone out frequently; don't be alarmed. It's one of a trio of reasons I don't drive (the other two being shitty depth perception and an outright phobia so rare it doesn't even have a name. I've seen a kid paralyzed doing something mundane; it sharpened my distrust of risk. And you can always, always, ALWAYS be yourself around me. In fact, if you try to be anyone else, I will be upset.

Share with your partner an embarrassing moment in your life.

Oh, god, which of ten thousand moments should I pick here? I embarrass myself all the time, it's what I do. Okay, in the spirit of the exercise, here is one I've never shared here.

I was Christmas shopping in downtown London, back when downtown London wasn't full of windows that were either broken, boarded, or barred. Dundas and Richmond. Packed street. I was loaded down with at least four large bags of swag, some of it very fragile. I had on a brand new pair of jeans from a now thankfully defunct chain called Bargain Harold's.

There was a seam just below the belt loops that ran all the way around those jeans, and it suddenly split. All the way around. To my horror, my pants rather swiftly fell to my ankles, revealing my tighty-whities and my skinny pale ass. Bedecked with parcels, all I could do was let them down gently, one at a time, and then pull my pants up--they suddenly rode a lot higher on me--and rearrange everything so I could hold them in place with one hand. Which was not easy.

When did you last cry in front of another person? By yourself?

Can't answer this without violating someone else's privacy, and so I won't.

What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?

This is a challenging question. I will answer "nothing", but qualify that mightily by suggesting I have an exquisite ear for when jokes aren't really jokes. The jokes that aren't really jokes are NEVER funny. There's one category of joke I'd like to single out here. I've heard black people tell racist jokes, gay people tell gay jokes, blondes tell blonde jokes...and I've never heard a fat woman tell a fat joke. I don't like fat jokes. Don't test just how much on me.

If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven't you told them yet?

This is not applicable to me. The people I love know I love them, and to what degree. I'm an open book to people I want to be read by.

 Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire. After saving your loved ones and pets, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any one item. What would it be? Why? 

I really don't mean to dodge this one, either, but if my loves and pets are safe, I have all I need.

Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? Why?

This one's easy. Eva's. For a myriad of reasons. She is my safe harbour in every storm, my fount of wisdom and patience. I love her widely and deeply. This next sounds just as mushy, but is in fact coldly true: Making my way in a world without her in it would be very, very challenging for me.

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Those are the questions, those are my answers. Try the original exercise with your partner(s): I guarantee you'll feel much closer when you've finished. It's said to take about ninety minutes...and if you conclude it with a hug lasting longer than twenty seconds...yeah, you'll be close, all right.




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