small talk, big talk
one of my favorite things ever is to have the Big Talk, the kind of conversation that instead of being an ever repeating ego echo, climbs a discovery ladder. each side of the conversation is listened to fully, towering like a Sequoia. when your side of the conversation is not an internal prep for one’s own commentary or anecdote, but where listening is true and speaking frankly matters. this wild ride carnivalesque jazz riff over coffee or before the slur hits the booze wall or before a pot high paranoia overwhelms the senses is rare indeed and we know it when it happens. it is here that the appearance of actual communication infuses the vibe ahead of seduction and real talk is real talk is real. but of late i think, especially at work where a mere ‘hey’, or ‘what’s new?’ or ‘good to see you’ can carry, in spite of its cliche off-the-hook flippancy, it’s own, sincere emotional weight. it is in the eyes. you can read it there and in voice you can hear it, one’s heartfelt interior. i used to disdain ‘what’s up, dude?’, short hand hi-5s, fist bumps but not any more. lately i’m more apt to doubt the depth, the sincerity of my own late night spew. i join in with the not-as-simplistic-as-they-seem people who get more out of less, a world out of a worm. as a friend put it: ‘ don’t say it, be it’.
This is an excerpt from my book, The Paragraphs — Cutlass Press
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