Conversations with Sam
You know, some of my most favourite conversations have been with complete strangers. A few weeks back when I received an incredibly engaging anonymous phone call about 20 minutes before walking in to teach a class. It reminded me of the above conversation.
Despite being a "fellow CouchSurfer", at the time of this conversation the writer, Sam, was completely unknown to me. Yet, after only a few of his unsolicited messages, I was convinced he and I would make great friends. Turns out my assumption was correct.
Those who know me know I'm not afraid to talk. The opposite in fact. When I was younger my Mother theorised that I might well have a daily quota of words that, if not reached, would seep out of me in other ways that tended to be incredibly annoying to those around me. While Mum called it "pestering", I thought of it more like me demonstrating my love for her through wedgies and continuous "Maaaaaarrrrmmmmm"s. These bellows from afar were invariably followed by a barrage of completely pointless questions. I can see how it could have been a little waring.
Now that I am older and far far wiser, I understand that this word quota is more of an excess mental energy thing. If I do not put my overabundance of energy to good use over the course of a day, I feel stifled and edgy, like an animal in a cage. Unfortunately for me, and for those with whom I share space, it is not the same kind of energy that can be expelled through physical exertion. Over the years I have come to understand it as a a creative force, something that must be expressed through me in sequence and rhythm. It must be channelled into something that requires my undivided attention to devise and execute. Something, wherein, a colourful outcome is achieved by way of process.
For that reason I like being around people who also have this... issue? It is a rare and beautiful thing to stumble across other human beings who share the same love of expression for expressions' sake. Being relatively open-minded, it is not out of the ordinary for me to share meaningful and momentary encounters with numerous strangers in a given day. However, it is in the transforming of these strangers into friends that I relish.
If you have a talent, whatever it may be, I encourage you to share it with others. Using but a mere 28 years of life as reasoning, I offer you my sincere conclusion that you can never really know where, or to who, you might be lead as a result of being your true self.