I’ve realized something so profoundly stupid that I quiver at the thought that I’m actually going to write about it. What I’m talking about are details. Details aren’t for everyone, most get by just making do with the big bludgeoning obtuse shapes that form their world. But my world is saturated in particulars. From the small cracks in the street to the little bit or toe that sticks out of your shoe - I know… it wasn’t intentional.
The details are not the details.
They make the design. -Charles Eames
The very same details that give me such joy in life also bring me great heaps of vexation. I often wonder if for instance had I not said something in a certain manner the person listening would have called back. Human interaction is such a nuanced and precarious activity.
I recently read Choke by Chuck Palahniuk - yes… it is now a major motion picture. His main character seems troubled by a heightened sense of awareness. Knowing the diagnosis for every common malady gives one a macabre look on life. I really started to commiserate with him.
I try my best on a daily basis to keep a positive outlook. What gets me every time is my knowledge and understanding of human beings. You may spend your entire life with someone and yet all bets are off with a simple action. I’m not a bad person. Trust me.
I obsess over things. I’m an obsessor. In one facet of my life it’s been a godsend. In my educational and professional careers my OCD has garnered me a modicum of respect from my colleagues and coworkers. There’s something satisfying when you know something is just right. In a controlled environment one can afford such niceties. In my personal life however it’s been a boat load of trouble.
I believe that the mind makes a million calculations a second. Simple simple calculations. The result of each equation is either a +1 or a -1. When you add all of these calculations you either get a positive number or a negative one. If the sum is positive then it’s a good feeling for that moment, if not then it’s a bad one. Variables can be is it sunny out or did that meeting go well? Artificial mood enhancers appear in the form of self prescribed presents or gifts.
It’s in the minutia that the sanity tends to appear. The details evoke joy, sadness, anger, indifference, apathy, empathy, the list goes on. Twenty-four hours a day three hundred sixty-five days a year, I am an emotional factory. My vice is the innumerable details that I come in contact with every second, of every minute, of every hour, of every day.
I notice all of the details for better or worse. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s all in my head.