Encinitas

Pat, (Rebecca's mom) Rebecca and I went for a hike in the mountains of Encinitas today.

We found a friendly guide along the way and our four-legged companion accompanied us the entire journey. We walked along a beautiful trail that wound its way to a peak that (we were told) overlooked the ocean. We reached the summit only to find that clouds obscured our view of the water and coast. Funny thing about clouds, they have a way of blocking your outward vision and promoting a look at what’s inside. With my companions for perspective, I had a revelation or two.

After the shock of arriving in San Diego and having so many people in my personal space, I had finally started to piece the remnants of my ideals together again. When you take yourself out of comfortable surroundings, you loose sight of your self for a while as you try to conform to your new lifestyle. It had taken several weeks of adjustment before I started to feel comfortable again. While it is nowhere near the mindset I had in Pacifica, I am once again remembering the aspirations of that time. I face a new set of challenges now and one that I am having a bout with today is envy.

Since my family had dissolved when I was a teen, I had always looked for that closeness in other relationships. It was never to be replaced, and I'm not sure it ever can be replaced. Now, spending so much time with Rebecca and her family, I have a constant reminder of the relationships which I had lost. I watch as they joke, play, or even argue, finding myself longing for that family connection I had as a child.

There is a feeling of comfort and security that you have with family that it feels impossible to attain with others. There is safety and intimacy in the years of development you have together. I think there is an unsaid acceptance that is naturally developed between parent and child, brothers and sisters. It is one of the few relationships that you can come back to and not feel the unease or distance that time apart seems to breed.

I watch the closeness and intimacy that Rebecca has with her family and I feel the envy welling up inside. It feels like... separateness. I feel alone, sequestered in my mind, separate from the family I still do have and longing for the family I have lost. A sense of despair begins to settle over me as I remember all of the things I miss about those special people.

I stop for a moment to think... where are those feelings coming from? Am I really alone? Are there not people in my life that love me now? So why do I feel this way, what is the cause? What is the impetuous?

As I look back through my life, I begin to remember the people that I care about. Friends, family or even casual acquaintance that hold a spot in my mind all flash before my eyes. What makes these people any less important than the primary relationships in my life? There seems to be a gradient to my love, a scale if you will. There are people that I put on a higher level and others that are relegated to the bottom. There are many fine degrees and even more conditions by which I equate the 'love ability’ of a person. Time, thoughtfulness, generosity, reliability, attractiveness all factor in to the scale, raising or lowering their 'love ability' quotient. Distance, location, education, and compatibility... to many variables to even imagine or want to imagine. I had no idea that I made it so hard to love people, or for people to love me.

So I have to take a long look at me, not other people. It is not that there is no one out there to be loved. Instead of missing those feelings, why not just embrace them and abolish the scale? Why not just love everyone instead of making it so hard for them to be lovable in my mind.