“What do you do for fun?”
The killer first date question will lead you down rabbit holes or smack you into a dead end.
“Um, well. I cook. Walk my dog. I like to have fun.”
Diving into my own mind and my own exploration of inner space is part of my obsession. How does a word, a song, or a smell light up my neurochemical mind? Let’s seek those depths. Let’s learn to follow the self-prompt into the grey matter of our brain, the sleeping memories, offline thoughts, obscure reflections.
I want to wrap my dna helix around someone who is also seeking. I want to light up and feel them light up along side me. Maybe not with the same subject or intensity, but I want to share the glow, bask in the togetherness and watch for connecting threads.
I weave my recent obsession with my own mind, writing, drawing, singing, into conversations. I’m a little tired of myself and my own ramblings, at least when I’m talking to someone, perhaps someone new, a first date maybe. I either get a YES or a WTF or a “I do like to have fun.” Only the YES is going to work for me. I’m not talking about dating, exclusively, but relationships in general. I’m a lot to handle. I understand this. I’m already moderating my energy to stay in your frame. At least, that’s what I think I’m doing. What I’m not doing is killing time.
Time.
As I search out over the vastness of space, I hope to find another enthusiast. I am calling in a badass, she just hasn’t arrived yet. Maybe she’s not looking for a partner at the moment. Maybe I should re-up my commitment to not seek a partner, but seek my best life.
I am here.
There is not much I would change about this rainy and cold Saturday. I am in my comfy chair, a nice cup of coffee, two cats jumping around to new perches and knocking shit over. And clickity clackity: writing. I am in my own perfect moment.
In a relationship, I will still have these same moments. And then my partner will wake up. Either they will want to engage, or perhaps they have plans and will be off soon. One thing I will always do is put away my obsessive monologue and make her a cup of coffee—just how she likes it. I might even throw in a surprise if it’s a rainy Saturday morning.
Alone, I don’t have that luxury or that distraction.
If I were lonely, as I have been before, I would feel sadness or absence. Lack. I feel this moment as PERFECT. So, my entertainment, my escape from this relentlessness of my hyper-mind, is also welcome. At the moment those things might be playing tennis, watching a deep movie with my cats sleeping in my lap. What’s not on my radar most of the time, today included, is “What shall I do for entertainment?”
Many of us are seeking entertainment. “I like to have fun,” is the perfect vanilla response. A woman a few weeks ago enlisted her friend to reel me in and sit me down next to her friend. “What are you into?” I asked.
“Give me a glass of red wine and I’m happy.”
Again, not the response I was hoping to hear. Alcohol is now revised to cause cancer rather than healthy relaxation. It was a marketing spin.
Time is the gift we have to give others, the gift we must give ourselves, and the gift that we struggle with when we are sad. I’m good with my balance at the moment. I’d LIKE a partner, I don’t want to carry a conversation or a torch for wine or “having fun.”
I will conserve my time for something meaningful.
I want engagement. I want passion. I want someone who’s lit up by their ideas. I can lean into that. I can vibe with another creative, even if their creativity has nothing to do with mine. A creative realtor who loves houses and redoing living spaces for people. That could be a cool thing I’d love to support. “Have fun.” How do you have fun? What do you do for fun?
Walks on the beach, wine, travel.
Yeah, next.
