The phrase “alone in the crowd” somewhat typifies who I am (or have become). For as long as I remember I have been awkward and lost when it comes to the social conventions of friend making and friend maintaining. My closest relationships are often with people I almost never talk to (Mike, Brenan and my family can attest to this). I am not exactly sure why.

Don’t get me wrong, I love people (why, some of my best friends are people) but I cannot seem to connect well with them and when I do it is usually one-sided with me becoming confidante and counselor while not being capable of opening up in return. In this I remain puzzled. I am sure it has been a contributing factor to the erosion and destruction of relationships in my life and as such it would be nice to arrest its development.

Sometimes I feel as though I stand outside of things, hovering above them and looking down as an observer but not actually participating. I don’t know if that makes sense. I see myself communicating and take no small amount of pride in being a decent communicator but for the most part it is learned behaviour. A series of social nuances and graces cobbled together from my observations of my more socially able fellow people.

I am a mocking bird. I am a patchwork quilt of all the people I encounter; people who I watch keenly to absorb smile types, gaits, postures and laughs in an effort to be one of them.

Now I am not deeply disturbed by any of this (although perhaps I should be). I am more curious at the enigma of me. Disconnected, disassociated me.

When I write I come closest to being who I am. The only other time when I am closer is when I pray. There is no point in hiding from God and so I try not to. But sometimes rather than hiding I am simply silent.

I find being me a bit of an interesting journey. I watch from inside as Peter the journalist heads into the community to interview and photograph people. He does it with ease but only because he has to. It is hard to relate to and open up to an awkward, clumsy, shy reporter and so he becomes something other than who he is for the sake of the job.

This was the case for Peter the pastor and preaching too. I loved preaching almost more than anything else. But being an introvert means getting in front of a group was about as frightening as it could possibly get. After all, one presumes to speak for and interpret God in such circumstances and fear should always be an ever present friend as much as I despise it.

I like to go to loud places like concerts and cafes. I like to go into the crowds of people to watch and wonder but I am not fond of being engaged with them on a one-on-one basis. This is what I mean by being alone in a crowd. Tokyo was good for that. I could ride the train to Shinjuku and wander amidst the press of humanity without ever having a single person engage me. Rio de Janeiro was the same…I could wander the beach at Ipanema for hours uninterrupted – solitary and surrounded. London, Geneva, Sydney, Munich, Milan, New York, San Francisco etc. – they all shared that…the ability to give me hiddeness and hoards.

Travelling is good for that. You go places where people don’t know you and you become part of the crowd. People do not avoid you because of your past nor do they come to you for the same reasons.

It is an odd trait for someone who so strongly espouses the values of community. I believe we are wired for community and in fact require healthy social engagement with others to be at our best. I believe this but my nature struggles against it. So much of what I know and believe is in battle with what I feel and want. Flesh and Spirit I suppose.

I have run out of words…I have created my own crowd of them in this post and now I will lose myself in their midst.