Conversations with Friends

Occasionally, Adam and I settle down for a long-distance call. He’s an extremely busy chap, a fantastic artist and a friend I have had since college.
I love our calls. Where we are similar in a lot of our values and opinions, we differ in enough ways to have the sort of conversation that probably needs to happen on a grander scale.
Last night we talked about our shared infatuation with Hank Green, his veganism and our approach to life, learning and death. This would be a difficult discussion if both of us weren’t so accepting of alternative outlooks. Whereas he is settled, comfortable and not in general pursuit of anything stressful, I unloaded on him about my increasingly arduous endeavor to inhale information.
The truth is, as I admitted through words which knocked me at the time, I feel like I spent a lot of my youth simply getting by on the bare minimum. I only needed to know enough to pass an exam, do my job, get a boyfriend and sustain life. Sustain life? What a joke. I needed to know enough to get enough money to pay professionals to sustain my life.
A few years back I became increasingly focused on learning. The past year or so this has become no less than an obsession. Over-thinking and panic attacks have turned into over-learning and frustration.
My dear friend, in all his wisdom, asked me ‘why?’.
The answer came as another surprise to the brain it came out of. I explained how I didn’t know for sure, but something was important about finding my limit. How I felt like I’d been given a brain and a body and a consciousness and wanted to see what they could really do. Anything else was a waste.
He didn’t share my sentiment, nor I his. It’s not the end of the world, it’s the continuation of a wonderful friendship.
Looking back, many people have tried to impose their image of my limitations on me. Is this about taking back that control? I can’t deny the fear I have that all of this is about losing my sanity, my grip on the social reality I am in. But being ‘sane’ in that sense, well, it seems like such an unhappy place to be.

