I used to be a ‘party animal’. Both the gregarious side and the showman side of me enjoyed the performance of being in the crowd. However, I’m naturally shy. If I’m true tto myself I hold back from the crowd and choose not to step in but rather wait and see who is drawn to me. I’m fortunate that someone or other usually is and it’s often the one that I would have eventually approached.
However, I prefer the one on one. Sitting face to face, looking into the other’s soul through their proverbial windows, those beautiful crystal orbs, their eyes and allowing them to flow out towards me. I love easily. My heart is always ready to engage but such openess can be threatening as it dissolves our boundaries and confuses our familiar self – image and chosen roles and exposes ourselves to more of who we are and what lies within our hearts.
In my older years I will no longer seek out parties. My younger self enjoyed social scenes to the max. I was often surrounded by friends and even strangers and often at the hub of such activity. I drank the well dry, knowing my popularity can be relied upon again and again and that my charisma ensured I was never alone unless I wanted to be. Nowadays, the need has left me as those tanks are full.
Please forgive me if sometimes I don’t accept your party invitations or when I do you find me at your party sittng with just one or two people or even alone quietly observing.
The limelight is reserved for actual performance and the social a preferred platform for connection. To tell you the truth, partying was an addiction. The opportunity to shine out from the crowd for one evening was compelling. This could also backfire as over-consumption of intoxicating substances might draw attention to me for all the wrong reasons and my inner experience might be all life and soul while the outer reality was embarrassing and repulsive.
So, as I approach 60 years my social needs are more to do with celebrating friendship than they are about celebrating myself. Ironically, this reflects a growing appreciation of myself as I learn to love the bits I disliked and hid behind my social masks of youth. The journey of self – Love and appreciation is unfinished and it is in those quieter, intimate moments that the wounds are healed.