I guess dear, Reader I’ll start with the end.

I miss most the people who can recognize boa constrictors eating elephants, from hats:
“But, whoever it was, he, or she, would always say:
“That is a hat.” Then I would never talk to that person about boa constrictors, or
primeval forests, or stars. I would bring myself down to his level. I would talk to
him about bridge, and golf, and politics, and neckties. And the grown−up would
be greatly pleased to have met such a sensible man.”
You see lately I’ve been experiencing a lull in being interested in the things around me. I think some may read this sentiment and call me arrogant, some may agree and bemoan the lack of suitable topics to talk about, but I fall in the middle. I don’t mean to expect more from those around me but it’s not really about intelligence it’s about interest and having met a few grown-ups in my life it seems to be a connection you feel. It’s not something you learn or read about, it’s the manner in which you approach things. The way in which you talk, the sound of excitement on a topic of interest with one another. It’s the fine line between teaching someone more ignorant than you and outright feeling superior because you know something more. It’s in the connection between the, talking of things unspoken and words not needed to be said.
For me it’s in the patience of listening with interest and not interrupting. I find that hard these days, giving an opinion seems to be the only way I know how to speak. I miss being taught something I fervently am interested in. I miss being able to connect over a topic that I am versed in, to the point that my voice shakes in enthusiasm at the mere mention of it and theirs does too. I miss the people that can create an atmosphere of discourse regardless of the environment, rare tellers of stories, show-people of the night.
Experiences come at a cost. You have to leave behind the familiar to engage in the new. And we’re never really certain if the new is better or worse from the familiar? It’s ironic how important lessons can be learned in unlikely places. My journey much like Antoine de Saint−Exupery’s Little Prince is similar in a lot of ways. Perhaps I’m still learning to appreciate my rose and the people I’ve met along the way.
“There are dreamers and there are realists in this world.
You’d think the dreamers would find the dreamers
and the realists would find the realists, but more often than not the opposite is true.
You see, the dreamers need the realists to keep them from soaring too close to the sun.
And the realists, well without the dreamers, they might not ever get off the ground.”
Maybe I need to find common ground with the people around me in the day to day. It’s never easy finding the right moments but perhaps we at least should try?
“And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is
only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the
eye.”
So I challenge you dear, Reader to listen and not talk. To ask and not belittle because finding our people, those who we surround ourselves with, that we choose and they choose us, is one of the most important decisions we will ever have to make:
“But if you tame me, then we shall need each
other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all
the world…”
So I will end with the beginning.
To the dreamers I ask you to open up when those rare souls come along spinning tales of primeval forests and snakes that can eat elephants disguised as unassuming adult hats. Because those moments are what you will remember. Those moments are where you will believe.
