The Art Of Uncomfort

FORWARD

This is a piece I wrote for my writers' group.  We were given a prompt from which to complete a writing for the week.  That prompt was to write about something that makes you uncomfortable.  Could be a person or place, just anything that makes you feel uncomfortable.

In addition to the story I have, in quotations, included the answers given to me by customers at the bar, written on paper coasters and not signed.  The question was this-

 "Using any definition you choose for the word 'Uncomfortable', write about something that makes you feel uncomfortable".  

No rules were provided and I collected them, read them, amazed at the varied ways people approach this topic, and placed them into this essay to break up the story.  

THE ART OF UNCOMFORT

What is discomfort?  How would you describe the sensation of being uncomfortable to someone or something that does not experience it?  

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"Gripping tightening of my heart"

"Being stuck in a large, possibly unruly crowd"

"Being trapped indoors and having to deal with my impatience"

"Heights"

"Standing a foot from the edge of the cliff and peering into the depth of nothing- air that won't impede the fall of an object, like a body"

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I have always equated discomfort to awkwardness.  Awkwardness I can define.  Awkwardness has defined me for most of my life.  It is the prime source of discomfort in my experience.  The water that suspends a fish, preventing him from falling to the bottom of the ocean.  My awkwardness sets me apart from "The Team", or "The People on the elevator", or "Everyone at a social gathering".

The following are a few examples, or symptoms of how awkward equals discomfort to me.

HIDE OR DIE

-If I am not using my hands for something, I do not know where to put them.  Ever.  If I'm using one hand, the other just sort of curls up as if to hide or die.

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"Centipedes"

"That feeling when your sock is sliding off inside your shoe every time you take a step"

"Socks with sandals"

"Prickly Cactus"

"Burlap"

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NO PARKING

-In a time before mobile devices, a person often had to sit, or stand, and wait for something like a bus, or the DMV to open, or the police to drag the crazy lady out of the diner.  Most people waiting seemed serene and comfortable with just staring off into the Void, allowing proper time to pass.  I do not have this super-power.  I have never known where to set my gaze.  I think too much in these situations and a strange critical nun emerges to tell me everything I'm doing is wrong.

-"You've been staring at the bus route for 5 minutes.  What're you going Pro?"

-"Nobody believes you're that into watching the trees sway in the breeze!"

-"For the love of God, stop glancing at her tits, it's f*****g obvious!"

I can't!  I can't stop glancing at her tits!  God, now I'm just craning back and forth trying  to view something for a moment, then move on.  Ooh, a bird!  That's something a normal person would stare at.  Oop, it flew away.  I'll just find something else to... there's her tits again!

"Long, pervy stares from old men... or not-old men"

"Any strange male presence staring at me, or standing slightly too close, intentionally"

"When men think it's ok to objectify women"

"Sitting next to this guy--->"

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THE NONSENSE DRIVE

-Let's use the example of the "Holiday Party".  People who I know but are not intimate with.  Other parents, or neighbors.  In this scenario, the majority of the participants are uncomfortable.  But most of them are not awkward, so they just sort of settle into conversation.

This.. is not me.  I set back and try to look like someone in a small group discussing youth soccer without technically 'being' someone in a small group discussing youth soccer.  I am an alien space-ship infiltrating Earth's atmosphere, undetected thanks to my cloaking device.

"CAPTAIN!!  We've been spotted!  Blonde Earthcraft, known only as KIRA'S MOM approaching off the starboard bow!"

"Initiating defensive procedures.  Diverting gaze."

"It's too late!  She's opening a hailing frequency!"

"So, Phil...."

"I need those Small-Talk shields up NOW!"

"Small-Talk shields not responding, sir.  Initiating evasive maneuvers.  We'll just nod and smile and see if we can keep her talking.  People love the sound of their own voice.  It might buy enough time to pour some alcohol into the Small-Talk reservoir."

"It's not working, Captain.  She's asked a question.  Repeat, the Earthship KIRA'S MOM has asked a question!  She's tilted her head and appears to be waiting for an answer."

"Captain, unable to desypher the question or formulate any coherent response.  We're starting to blush, and we're venting perspiration.  Orders, sir? . . . . . . . Sir?"

"GODDAMMIT!  Fire up the Nonsense Drive and let's get the hell out of here!"

"Affirmative! .  .  .  .  . It's working sir!  The Earthship KIRA'S MOM has cocked her head in confusion and doesn't seem to know what the hell we're talking about!"

"She's disengaging, sir!  Repeat, the Earthship KIRA'S MOM is disengaging and has moved back into the previous formation."

"Stand down, crew.  I wouldn't call it a success, but the danger's over for the time being.  Now would someone tell me why you all keep calling me Captain?"

"You have to be the captain, sir.  A ship needs a captain.  Everyone knows that.  I mean, a ship without a captain, well that would just be. . . . . Awkward."

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"The company of perceived strangers"

"Someone overhearing you s**t-talk about them"

"Being caught off guard"

"The awkward silence between conversation"

"Confronting"

"We need to talk"

"Confrontation! Watching people argue in public"

"Being misunderstood"

"Rejection of any kind"

"Being alone"

"Glass elevators on the sides of skyscrapers"

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THE HEAT VENT AT THE BOTTOM THE SEA

This is my favorite coping mechanism.  Some people are uncomfortable but not awkward.  Some people are awkward but don't seem to be uncomfortable.  Each state of being has its own pros and cons.  Uncomfortable but not awkward has a grace to it.  The seemingness of being so unflappable.  If it were possible, I would prefer this state.  No one needs to know how hard it is to fit in.  Most people would never search deep enough within to find out what really squirms beneath.  

Alas, this is not my fate.  In uncomfortable situations my own physiology turns against me.  My hands might begin to shake just a little.  Now I have to hide them or keep them moving or cut them off.  My voice may tremble a bit and, as I have discussed, small-talk is probably out of the question.  

And then there's the BIG ONE. 

 I Blush!  

I blush when I realize I have forgotten to put in a customer's food order... for ten minutes, and I can see them looking toward the kitchen anxiously.  I blush when a pretty girl smiles at me.  I blush when my manager asks if I have a minute to talk.  I blush when someone known only as KIRA'S MOM begins a line of small talk that I just don't have the sport for.  It is a simple a fact.  I Blush.

So I can hate it or I can love it, but I cannot ignore it.  I know that I am different and I accept that.  I am awkward but this is my body and my mind and I will make my own narrative, my own reality.

This warmth.  This blushing redness, this differentness.  It is unique to me.  It is my thumbprint.  I am aware of my awkwardness and fully embrace it!  

WHERE DO I GO?

Deep, deep at the bottom or the ocean, unknown and unknowable for millions of years of evolution, exist volcanic heat vents, spewing sulpher from the molten bowels of the planet!  Bacteria form and a food chain arises.  Giant tube-worms anchor to the seabed and sway and absorb.  I go with them.  I peel away from the surface and I dive deep, past the depth that sunlight can touch.  I probe and sink and explore and anchor alongside my companions.  I reel in the tremendousness of underwater volcanoes.  Our faces are red, but it is not blush.  It is the reflection of the fiery center of the earth.  And only we can see it!  Only we can feel it.  Only we truly experience the realness of that which cannot be controlled.

Deep sea drone-submarines trace along on expeditions.  They peer at us through reflective lenses.  They are curious and genuinely ask if we are ok? 

We are fine, little robot.  Now go home and report that you have found us, we are distant and remote and under the great pressure of the sea.  But we are not alone.  We are together.  We are fine.

In my moments, I visualize this vent.  Life is a long and rarely interrupted sequence of uncomfortable moments for the shy.  But we are fine.  I, at least, am fine.  A near lifetime of work has provided me with tools and armor to navigate my world.  I am fine.

In my moments, a woman says, "Your face is really red".  I smile in a well practiced, charming way and respond, "Oh, that?  I always blush around pretty girls".  Sometimes they blush too, because now, they too feel awkward.

In my moments, I tell people, "Nope, that is just my color.  But you should go tell that black guy what color he is..." Awkward!

In my moments, when I am surrounded too closely by discomfort, when I can't fit myself correctly into a moment, or conversation.  When, once, I would have hated myself for this 'Something' that I lack, I disappear from the surface and plunge down to the heat vent where everyone is red-faced.  I bring them with me and now it is my world and I am as comfortable as I will ever be.  I am swaying, anchored to the sea-bed.  I am warmed by the true nature of reality.  I am a rare organism who lives in an unbelievably harsh environment, near a volcanic heat-vent at the bottom of the world, and feeds solely... on... awkwardness!

Awkwardness. . . . and probably krill..

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"Burlap (the feel)"

"People opening up too soon"

"When our thoughts and ideals are threatened"

"Not believing I deserve love"

"Greek yogurt"

"Facing the truth"

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AFTERWORD

The brilliant and multi-talented Sarah Trudeau sat with me at writers' group today (this prompt was of her devising) and, with all the wisdom of my own, personal guru, pointed out that the Nun and the Heat-vent were the mind and the body, or the head and the heart.  That meditation teaches the importance of moving from one to the other at appropriate times.  

That place I wrote of, the tube-worms and the vent, they are quite real to me in the sense that I do pretend to go there and feel the things I have described.  The sensation is calming and quite different than the rawness of really tough days in the service industry.  It's like power-socks!  Nobody knows, but I know, you know?

To those with anxiety, or shyness, or awkwardness, they don't make them any more "human" than you!  This is your blessing and your burden.  Along the way, collect your tools and weapons and armor.  You will still feel awkward, but they will buffer you and provide a sense of comfort.  That gives you the room you need to see the true blessing.  There is always a place you can go to feel safe and comfortable but you have to find it, or build it, yourself.