Closer Than Skin

You know. You do. I know that you know. You’ve been there. Right there. You’ve been to “the” place, the land of exaltation. Your body knows how to tread that narrow, but well-worn path through those particular woods very well. You could get there blindfolded if you had to. Yes, you’ve been there and you’d like to stay. We all want to stay, so we devote poems and songs and great works of art to this magic realm.

heartsWhat is this place? Being in love. You know: when you think of someone you love, and your whole body floods with such emotion and adrenaline that you feel hot, dizzy, weak. Your heart pounds when you think of them. You feel eager, excited, and happy when they are around and achingly lonely when they are not. Like, it’s actually physically painful not to be in their presence. Your body sits up and takes notice when that person enters the room. You are pointedly aware of their every move, where their eyes alight, how they hold their hands, the shape and heft of their body. You want nothing more than to pull that person close to you, look into their eyes, feel their skin, kiss them, and stay in that warm bubble of connection, that syrupy happiness forever.

Yeah, that place. The place we all love to visit. The location of primal, glorious, and flushing feeling. I love that place. My body loves that place. But (and there’s always a butt–hahhaha), we all get there alone and we remain there alone. *Sigh* One of the things that my body and I have been pondering all of our lives, but in particular, very deeply over the past few months, is the concept that we are each alone. Truly, inexorably, completely alone here on planet earth. Despite our connections with others, our abundant senses, our experiences, our feelings for other people, our great and not-so-great “loves”, we are isolated. We experience the circumstances of our lives and live with the effects of our decisions, alone.

No one else can share in our reality. No one else shares one ounce of our perception or even our sight. No one shares our synapses, ruminations, or emotions. Oh, to be sure, we can look at an object and agree to what it is, a car, a book, a table, but you perceive these things wholly differently than I do. We are totally unique in our perceptions of objects and our experiences of things. And, I have to tell you that this causes me some distress. I kinda hate it. More on that in a minute.

atomWe create reality by way of our consciousness, our thinking, and our corresponding actions. Literally. So, each of us is completely separate from others. We are in a bubble of our own creation, a reality of our own design and maintenance. Yes, our bubbles get close to each other and there is energy exchange (which happens all of the time); yes, we commingle and interact, but in that process, what we perceive of as touch is actually an illusion; it’s the sensation of not touching that we actually perceive. It’s a dream of connection, but on a subatomic level, there is no such thing as touching.

The charged electrons in your hand actually repel the inversely charged electrons in my hand. What we feel as touch is nothing more than a tiny spark of repelling energies that shove each other away (quite violently, actually) when they get close together. There is no real connection at all, other than the resultant expansion in our consciousness from the energy that we perceive of as touch and well, our ideas about the person with whom we “connected”. But, no touch actually occurs. Sad, I know.

In my pondering of this sad fact of being human, I realized (yeah, like, just this week) that this is why I’m writing the book that we’ve explored together in other posts and on which I’ve been slaving away for pretty-much ten years. As you, dear readers and friends might recall, a compelling thing happens to me. I’ve only experienced it a couple of times in my life (with people) and find that it happens much easier and more frequently with nature and animals. My term for it is “merging” and my book is a futuristic/SciFi novel about a telepathic race of people who do this practice of merging in pair bonding.

Merging is literally the feeling of exchanging energies with another being. In my book, however, the characters go much deeper with it. They actually swap bodies and physically experience what the other person, place, or thing perceives. Well, I’m now pretty sure that I’m writing the book as a way to slay that dragon who goes by the name of “I-am-alone”. Ah, so there it is. All of my psychology, laid out on the open Internet for all to see. Well, then. I might as well tell you the rest.

It bugs the living crap out of me that we are ultimately alone, that we have to do all of this perceiving and living and learning alone, in our isolated little consciousness bubbles, and that one man’s reality in no way, shape, or form resembles my own. I mean, I get that we feel love and exchange energy with the world around us and I deeply believe in “guides” who nurture us and help us from the Other Side while we are here in earth school just slugging it out. I get that we have some help and that our bodies are a huge boon to us in what we explore here, but ultimately all of our perceptions are our own and we are responsible for grooming them and learning from them.

I suffer from a deep existential loneliness and this “aloneness” is the root cause of it. What I know, I cannot teach (though I keep trying and trying and trying by way of my words, my blogs, my poems, my art, etc.). The fact that what I experience, my merging with others, my depth of feeling is really, really rare. I suffer because when I talk with others, tell them about what I think, people often look at me like I have a horn coming out of my head. I feel really alone here. I think about and say sh*t that few people seem to ponder and then, I’m left wondering where the rest of my tribe is. I wonder where my people are. I wonder why I chose a life where I walk around feeling so terribly alone.

And, I suspect, given how hard I work and how little time I have left, that the book, if I ever finish it, will be my magnum opus. It’s my attempt to beat this loneliness down. It’s a chance to explore what it would be like if there were more people here like me. Yes, it’s narcissistic. Every bit of art is a practice in narcissism. But, I *hope* that it serves others and helps them. I hope it gives something back to humanity.

I want to be closer than skin. I want to merge energies with others. I want to be open and heightened and feeling. Other people’s emotions do not scare me. I want to know what they feel and think about and ponder and learn. I want to experience what others experience, because it causes expansion and growth, feeling and thinking. I just want to know that one other person on this planet gets it, gets me, and that I get them, really get them. But, that’s impossible, isn’t it, my little love-nuggets? Nonetheless, I’m gonna keep trying until I don’t any more.

P.S. In case it wasn’t abundantly obvious, this is me, a bit down-in-the-dumps. Just thought you’d like to know that I am not always “sunshine” and “delirious happiness”; all sides are represented. I don’t come to the shores of sadness often, but when I do, I lug my boat up onto the sand and I camp for a few days. ❤ Love you, my friends.

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10 thoughts on “Closer Than Skin

  1. NowICanEatCake

    This is Joanna from foodgurly. I have a new blog due to some software problems… I feel you girl! I often feel so alone even when surrounded by a room FULL of people. It’s like a shroud of darkness looms above me threatening to engulf me any second. Sometimes it literally takes my breath away. I don’t know what causes this, but sometimes it’s hard to dig myself back out of. I am have been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder with schizoid tendencies (which basically means I see and hear things that aren’t there sometimes) and Borderline Personality Disorder. I guess this could be an explanation…

    Sending you good vibes, hugs and prayers my friend. Keep that beautiful chin up!! xoxo

    Reply
    1. BigLizzy Post author

      Joanna!!

      Honey, so glad you stopped by and left your thoughts. I’m really sorry to hear about your software challenges and that led to you having to abandon ship at your other site. That sucks! I’ll come over and follow you at your new place. Thanks for letting me know. 🙂

      YOU are the best. What you expressed here resonates with me so completely. Although I don’t love that you also experience this, I do love knowing that you understand and can completely empathize, sis. Isn’t it the weirdest thing? How can we, two talented, beautiful, expressive, and amazing women feel this way so much of the time? Sometimes I just sit in my office and howl inside with loneliness.

      Hey, maybe lots of people feel this way and if so, I bet it’s due to the physical limitations of being human. We can’t understand each other. We understand our own “projections” of each other, really. It’s just very isolating. Add in the electrical/chemical challenges in one’s brain, such as you are discovering in your journey, and it’s all one can do to stay here and do the work.:(

      Honey, I get it. I have rampant social anxiety and at times, my anxiety is so bad, I have to stay home, avoid the world, hide until it passes. Like you, I never know when it’s coming and it’s hugely disruptive, but I have learned what I need to do to manage it (drug-free) and I do the work. I’m proud of myself for doing what I’ve done to stay healthy; you have the same tenacity and drive, honey.

      Here’s to hoping that you feel solid, healthy, whole, and LOVED beyond belief. Because, I am one of many who love you, sis. You keep your beautiful chin up, too. I’m here for you always. ❤

      Reply
      1. NowICanEatCake

        I have been there, too. With debilitating anxiety. I used to have this horrible irrational fear of checkouts at the store. I could never figure out if it was a fear of spending money or if it was the way they narrowed and made everyone file through almost single file or what the exact problem was, but I would hyperventilate and break out in a cold sweat…it was awful. I finally just stopped shopping altogether for a while. I can do it now, but not without difficulty sometimes.

        It’s odd how the mind/body works sometimes. And how things can get screwed up depending on what happens to us or how wires can get crossed some how…

        I d hope you are feeling more like your ‘deliriously happy’ self soon!! Thanks so much for your kind, loving thoughts and words. You are such an encouragement!! Love, hugs and kisses t e of my favorite peeps! xoxo

      2. BigLizzy Post author

        Joanna,

        It’s like we are the same person, sugar. I swear it. Re: your fear of check-out lines. I SO GET THIS! My most common one was pumping gas and, well, supermarkets in general. For the longest time, I couldn’t make it through weekly shopping. I’d have to leave and get some air, come back in, and try again. The weirdest thing ever. Like, how can someone be anxious at a gas pump or shopping and why? It just makes no rational sense, but then anxiety never really does.

        Just like yours, mine come and go, swell and recede, ebb and flow. As I age, it seems to get worse regarding social situations. I’m often anxious in large crowds, but then, at other times, I’m fine, almost insulated somehow. Like you say, our brain chemistry is so, so odd, isn’t it?

        Well, honey, I wish for you the same peace, ease, happiness, and warmth that you are sending to me. Always. You are one of my very favorite people, too. ❤

  2. mariner2mother

    I completely understand. Not that I merge like you do, but the gut level needing to connect to others, and feeling that ultimately, we are alone here in our physical human forms for our journeys called life. I just had a woman read my hand (she actually read my fingerprints) and was able to tell me that one of my big life lessons is fear of abandonment (she was amazingly accurate, BTW). Just as she was about to say the word abandonment, that very word popped into my head. Anyway, as I was walking down our very long driveway a little while ago, I remembered something I read that shed light on this whole topic. When we are in spirit, we are unique individuals, yes, but we have the capability to merge with others, in the manner that you are able to do. I believe that we also feel the connection to others that we do not feel once we come into a physical body. I believe that my fear of abandonment comes from the veil that makes me think I am separate from the whole, separate from divine source. I feel like I’ve been abandoned by God. And I think your needing to connect is along these lines as well; having to do with this veil that makes us forget that we are all divine and divinely connected. And yes, while we are here, we each have our very separate journeys to make, connecting here and there to our soul group (tribe). Does this make sense? My brain is a half mast this morning.

    Reply
    1. BigLizzy Post author

      Susan,

      Oh. My. Goddess. You delicious beast. “When we are in spirit, we are unique individuals, yes, but we have the capability to merge with others, in the manner that you are able to do. I believe that we also feel the connection to others that we do not feel once we come into a physical body. I believe that my fear of abandonment comes from the veil that makes me think I am separate from the whole, separate from divine source. I feel like I’ve been abandoned by God.”

      SOOO STRIKES A CHORD!

      Yes, yes, yes. This is exactly what it is, mama. YES! For me, the veil is thinner in this way than for others. Of course, it’s because of my connection to the Other Side and how thin that membrane is at times. Of COURSE it causes unending suffering and pain here and feelings of isolation when I can no longer connect to my tribe like I am accustomed to doing. Of course this is it.

      You just saved my life, sister. Deep belly breath! You remind me of what I know but cannot articulate in a particular moment. YOU are such a blessing. Seriously. The love I feel for you, Susan. It’s bigger than the sun. 🙂

      My work is to accept the isolation, accept the feelings, observe the feelings, feel the feelings. Keep myself healthy. Stay within my boundaries. Remember that I am never separate from Source and my people even though it feels that way. I am loved. Yes, even though I sometimes hurt others and do wrong things and make poor decisions.

      THIS is the work that I agreed to do here. Now, buck up, Elizabeth and get back to it. Everything is fine. If I develop my abilities, heal the wounded places, push into the pain, my connection with all that is will grow and I will no longer feel so alone. I have to do the work, sis. This is the call…

      Susan, You Glorious Person. You Beautiful and Wonderful Woman. I’m gonna drive over there and smother you with kisses, I swear it! ❤

      Reply
  3. mariner2mother

    I so wish you would (drive over here and smother me with kisses)!! Unfortunately, we wont be able to make a drive south this Christmas break, but it is very likely to happen next year.

    I have all of this stuff wanting to bubble out of me, wanting to be shared with the world. If only i had your writing skills. Maybe its time to look for a local writing class.

    Reply
    1. BigLizzy Post author

      Susan-baby, Now, I’m trying to figure out how to get my ass to your neck of the woods before next X-mas and also fit in Sturgis (in August) and all of the Moto touring that I have to plan…Hmm…I want that pile o’ hugs and kisses, sis. 🙂

      Reply
  4. Adri

    I completely agree with you on this topic Liz (to the limit that I have understood and translated your thoughts in your world to my thoughts in my world 🙂 ) I have similar sad thoughts from time to time that no matter how close we are with friends and family we can never truly know what its like to be them, and they can never truly know us.

    This underscores the importance of Art. It’s how we communicate bits and pieces our personal reality to others across that almost unbridgeable chasm. So don’t despair, you are already doing your bit to bring all of us lonely and alone beings into contact.

    Reply
    1. BigLizzy Post author

      Adri!!

      Sweet friend, You totally get it and did a great job of translating here. LOL! I love what you wrote. You bring such light, such thought, such heart to my life, I hope you know this. I seriously, seriously cherish your being.

      And, you so perfectly articulated something here that is now blowing my mind. You nailed it. This fact of our being alone completely underscores the importance of ART. OMG! So TRUE!!

      This is perhaps the reason that so many of us create art in the first place and seek to push ourselves deeper into our process and share our creations. Maybe art is the vehicle for exploring that we are alone but never really alone.

      We have a quantum connection. We are all sameness at the subatomic level. We are in and out of each other’s bodies all of the time at the level of the particle. An iceberg is the same, sub-atomically, as a hand, etc. Maybe there is no real touch, but particles touch all of the time and we know that energy transfers from one to another. So, it’s okay. It’s all okay.

      Yes, you are right: art is the way. Art is the conveyance system for bringing us closer to our truth, our connection, our relevance here, our work with soul. Art helps us bridge the “almost unbridgeable chasm” between us. God, how I love your words, young man. 😉

      Thank you for your thoughtful, sweet comments. I seriously cried when I read your take on how I am helping the lonely make contact. It touched me so much, my friend. And, I receive it. I take it in. You are right. I am doing my part. So are YOU! ❤

      Reply

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