Spotty Pingers

Deep discussions are critical to my well being. A relentless questioner with a need to sit with all kinds of ideas while simultaneously wanting to protect my interior self,  I am prone to pinging those around me like a bat, hoping to find My People.  In Improv, this is called giving or sending an offer. on the stage and in life, we make bids for interactions. As adults, we rarely give unstructured invitations, relying instead on structured events and activities. Those provide a backdrop for the many diverse bids we toss to those around us. We throw out words, expressions, and gestures to see who accepts and what becomes.

Every time a live one picks up on a bid, a new storyline emerges. Old ideas receive fresh air. I get all excited. Cue the Snoopy dance. We take turns tossing about questions and ideas. We hold each other's hopes and fears. We take note and celebrate the accomplishments and the growth. We witness the hard things, the disappointments, and the anger. We encourage one another. We turn on the light so we can see better. We belong to one another, and thus, we care for one another.

I know what to do with the wonderers and dreamers. Likewise, I know what to do with the doers. As long as it overlaps with my interests. And if it doesn't spoil into my need to retreat and process. So, if you want lofty conversations while hiking or traipsing across town, I'm in. Listening during home or yard chores will do nicely, and a sing along or musical jam is like a winning lottery ticket.

 Unfortunately, I don't know what to do with the ones that don't pick up my offers or the ones that send out their own wayward pings. On this list, one can find family members, friends, the weird woman at pickleball who invades my space and gives me constant instruction, and the woman who showed up late to a group activity and let me know I wasn't filling in correctly but offered me a chance to redeem myself. Yup. I stink at all that. There's a good chance I take disinterest, criticism, and false praise about the same. Poorly.

So why bother? There's a great argument to be made for choosing to be with the people that meld beautifully into our lives. They validate and encourage us. They inspire us. How much energy must I expend on people who drain or otherwise challenge my serenity. I wish I knew.

Tonight, I had the opportunity to be with the easy people, and do the fun tasks. I also had the opportunity to encounter someone who didn't easily fit in my world. They sent out all sorts of offers. Some I accepted, some I refused. They didn't respond when I pinged; their requests didn't mesh with my expectations.  Because of the goal, I chose to accept the offer, if not the delivery.
Driving home, a week's worth of wondering hit me. The space between ourselves and the Other can  hold a whole host of feelings: irritation, boredom, disdain, anger, loneliness, fear, safety, peace,  and pride. The longer we stay on one side, the harder it gets to hear and receive requests. The harder it is to see one another as friend, family, and community. The harder it is to care. The harder it is to react. The space grows to fit both our experiences and our feelings.

So as I sit here tonight, thinking about how to fight all the injustice and ugliness of the world, I'm also thinking about what it looks like to choose to close the gap between myself and Other. I'm wondering how much space is enough to guarantee my own safety and someone else's, because at the end of the day, I still believe we need one another more than we often think. Much work is needed to restore justice and beauty to an unjust and hurting world. There's a very good chance I'll need to share skills, energy, experiences, and curiosities.  I might need to rely on pesky people who get this pinging business all wrong, and I find myself hoping someone else is willing to work with my own spotty pings.