Listen to this discussion free on YouTube: Our Human Fabric discussion
What creates the unbreakable links between us humans? The lover you never fully let go of. The sister who died when you were 20. The high school roommate from prep school you’re still connecting with. What is it? Is it me? Is it some of us? I know it’s not most of us. Empathy must be a learned skill.
I have written many times about the golden thread, the connection between lovers, that is so difficult for me to sever. Old girlfriends. Old running buddies. I have multiple best friends in older, younger, and peer age groups. I’m a collector. When I find a connection with you, I have to work to kill it.
Walking through an old neighborhood where I lived in my 20s and 3os the memories flooded. My son and I went for an unexpected breakfast near my first house/condo. We toured around after food while he smoked a few cigarettes. Good moments. Father son, comparing notes. He needs a place to live. The motivation to get work enough to move into his own place. The apartments in this area are not expensive and the location is fantastic. We saw some interesting places. No idea if he will follow up. He’s got a few more ducks ahead of apartment hunting. Primarily, delivering a software platform for his snack influencer. The woman who is funding his dreams.
Guess what? He has not delivered. Oh, surprise. He’s fiddling with guns. We had a somewhat heated discussion on the drive to breakfast about the guns.
“What are you afraid of?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you under threat?”
“Not at the moment.”
“So why do you carry a loaded weapon?”
“In case…”
“But there’s no threat, right?”
“Um…”
“I mean, by carrying the gun you are creating a potential threat. Putting yourself in compromising circumstances simply by having a loaded weapon.”
“I don’t know.”
“I mean, I think the universe responds to what we are putting out. You are putting out ICE vibes.”
“Wait?”
“Nice ICE. Upper-middle class ICE. REI ICE gear.”
“It’s Texas, man, most people are carrying.”
“What percentage of that store over there do you suppose is carrying?”
“Not fair. That’s Whole Foods, man.”
“Okay, Starbucks. What percentage of people in that Starbucks are packing heat? 1%?”
“Higher. Much higher.”
“10%?”
“At least 30 maybe 40%”
“No fucking way.”
“We’re in Texas dude.
“Yes, but even in this red state, no everyone is packing heat.”
“Texans love their guns. That’s why concealed carry is legal.”
“Yes, but, most gun nuts in Austin are hunters. I’d guess a very small percentage of liberals are packing heat.”
“Fair point. Probably a lot more than you think.”
“Again, what are you arming yourself against? What is the physical threat you are under?”
“None. But if there is a threat…”
“Are you under attack?”
“No.”
“So, it’s more of a mental attack, like PTSD?”
“I guess.”
“Well, OCD, might be part of it, but most people do not carry loaded weapons around in daily life.”
We’d reached our destination. The rest of our time we discussed, music, girls, and cars. “Wanna smoke a cigarette?” I offered as we walked out.
The fabric between kids and family members is different from that of old lovers and old roommates. The mechanism and the empathetic response is the same. I can let go of an old friend or lover. I can never let go of my son, loaded weapons and all. I’m not sure getting his own solo apartment, his first, is a good idea in his current anxious state. Not sleeping, not doing the work he says he needs to do, and fiddling with guns all night.
“I wish I could pull you back into music. Get you obsessing with a new software synth or mastering plugin.”
“It’s not the same.”
“I know. But one is creative. The one you’re into is destructive.”
“Defensive, maybe.”
“Defending against what?”
I texted my daughter earlier to see if she wanted to join us after work. “My shift was brutal. I’m going to sleep.”
