Eyes of Others

I suspect we all have moments when the life of a hermit seems appealing. Visions of a secluded cabin on a remote mountaintop dance in our heads. Trapping rabbits for the stew pot, foraging berries for our homemade yogurt and making friends with ravens seem appealing in a primal way.  No meetings to discuss how to move forward. No compromises on what to eat for dinner. No tedious yammering by human entities. No blaming others for missing socks (unless you count the ravens). And no alarm clocks set by the calendars of demand.

The number one reason for being a hermit is, most likely, autonomy. Getting along with others is hard work, sometimes mildly difficult and other times, excruciatingly painful. Ask anyone who has served on a county township board or a church hospitality committee and the truly honest will agree, folks can disagree on anything from land easements to new salt and pepper shakers. We are humans, not robots, and that means we have opinions.

Fortunately, for most of us, living like a hermit is not an option. I, for one, am incapable of being self-sufficient. My nervous Nellie nature does not allow me to live in isolation, especially living off the land. I would most likely harvest the dangerous mushrooms or accidentally gouge myself with a hunting knife only to meet an early demise, alone and forsaken. Such thoughts keep me swimming in the stream of humanity.

Despite our independent tendencies, sharing life experiences with others is often filled with rewards. It is acceptable to experience the wonders of Disneyland as a solo person, but it is difficult to surpass the ability to see a princess or two through the eyes of a child. One person dining at a new restaurant is not discouraged but the same menu becomes more interesting when banter and sharing dishes is added to the mix. Watching a movie with a bag of popcorn for a date is good. Watching the same movie with a friend is better as more eyes analyze nuances in the plot. A cup of coffee is delightful on its own, but two cups with two people is even better as conversation is fueled by a caffeine boost.

As a child in a large farm family, I had plenty of eyes interpreting life for me. My mother made sure I could identify the birds in our fields. My father taught me to watch the body language of livestock (not a skill I mastered). My older brother made sure I didn't see life as my sole domain. My younger brother preferred to use my eyes for reading, book reports did not spark joy for him. My sisters saw life as sisters do, something to be shared or compromised upon.

It is Valentine's weekend, loved or loathed, depending on who you ask. I hope you can enjoy a moment or two with someone you care about. Life is always more interesting through the eyes of another.