Gauche

I tend to demonstrate a somewhat awkward social presence. I am inelegant in both posture and speech, which those who don’t know me are prone to confuse with insecurity, weakness or buffoonery. I realize I’m clumsy, but I also consider myself adroit; two adjectives generally considered antonyms. I am proficient at solving technical issues and making shrewd observations, but can neither dance nor orate.

While discussing my gaucheness with a friend the other day, she remarked that one conspicuous aspect of my personality was a penchant for unexpectedly abrupt responses. She accredited this to my preference for erring on the side of humility, which was perhaps a bit too charitable. The truth is; I tend to think in a rather elusive, fragmented way. My mind traces broad connections between a plethora of memories while I strive to maintain a consistent, encompassing point of view. My inclination for avoiding assumptions while exhausting possibilities predisposes me toward exploring alternatives rather than providing answers.

In conversation, it can be difficult for me to know where to begin or forecast where I’m going. When asked how my day is going, for example, my mind races through a hundred different ways my day has gone and in what ways that day’s occurrences can be qualitatively interpreted. My contemplative nature compels me to burst into a diatribe on everything in a desperate attempt at grasping its essence. Usually before doing so, it occurs to me the questioner doesn’t actually care, so after a pregnant pause I reply, “Fine.”

I’m not very good at conducting a linear conversation limited and focused upon a single topic. At the same time, I prefer not to belabor things with unnecessary or unwanted tangents. I don’t easily accept declarations, overlook perspectives or dismiss improbabilities. Sometimes trying to coherently get my point across is akin to attempting long division in my head. I’m not very adept at explaining and elaborating on a subject without being able to write it down and edit it first.

The way I write echoes the way I process information. I usually begin with a rambling rant which is immediately followed up with another tangent aimed in a completely different direction. Then I jot down a list of key words and phrases that seem useful in drawing connections between and expounding upon the rants. After that, I simply work by turning the idea fragments into sentences or paragraphs and fitting them into the composition. As new thought fragments occur, I continue to compile them under the composition. I consider the essay finished when there are either no notes on the bottom of the page or I have no idea how to fit them in.

About a half hour into this essay, which had a working title of “Confidence,” it occurred to me to compare my social presence to my writing style. After adding, “How I write this blog…,” I copied and pasted what I’d written up to that point and moved it to the bottom of the document, where it sat for several days. Here it is:

"I tend to demonstrate a somewhsat awkward social presence. I am inelegant in both posture and speech, which others are prone to confuse with insecurity, weakness or buffoonery. While I realize I’m clumsy, I also consider myself adroit, two adjectives generally considered to be antonyms.

While discussing my gaucheness with a friend the other day, she observed the perplexing thing about me is that my responses can be unexpectedly abrupt.
Another quality I possess is abruptness. I don’t like to elaborate or explain without being able to write it down and edit it first.

I abhor boasting. Whenever anybody irrelevantly elucidates their fame or success, my gag reflex is triggered.

Matter-of-factness (don’t tend to elaborate exaggerate or.)

The more I elaborate, the greater my chances become of pissing people off.

How I write this blog: words and sentence fragments, put in order, complete the sentences.

Private: don’t like to allow others to watch me work. Will tend to accomplish feats very fast in hopes they won’t be witnessed.

Flaw: sometimes try to avoid input. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the opinions of others, it’s just that I sometimes find them distracting."

While the way my mind processes information is a key factor in the way I communicate, my interests and biases are of equal significance. I’m curious to discover what earth creatures are capable of discovering, discerning and creating. Because I spend so much time conducting research instead of simply resigning myself to an opinion, I expect the same of others. I’m not at all interested in uninformed opinions. My thirst for human potential influences me to refrain from idle conversation, ego-stroking or living in the past. I desire to avoid clichés and whittle talk down to educated opinions and observations. I’m easily irritated by nervous chatter. I love finding those rare people who are willing to join me in finding ways of linking and comparing random subject matter.

One of the most bizarre things about American culture is that we are actually proud to be ignorant, and ridicule those who aren’t by calling them elitists and snobs. It seems most people seem completely disinterested in learning anything beyond their own nose, content either with believing their problems are the biggest problems in the world or that they’ve stumbled upon some simple solution to all the world’s problems. I can’t stand those who like to hear themselves talk- like that Lake Wobegon guy. I’ve witnessed entire evenings during which not a single necessary word was uttered. My theory is people can’t stand silence because it allows for contemplation. When I was younger, I found it confusing that adults didn’t seem to know very much. Now I’ve realized most people never learned how to think. We spend our lives being told how to behave and what to do by a bunch of people who spent their lives being told how to behave and what to do. I can’t stand this bandwagon mentality. Perhaps that is why I sometimes go out of my way to resist being agreeable. Success, popularity and convention are all reasons to be suspicious.

I abhor boasting as much as ignorance. I find it pointless and unnecessary. There is less value in what others have done than in how they’ve conducted themselves as they did it. Whenever anybody elucidates their accomplishments, my gag reflex is triggered. I absolutely cannot stand the likes of Oprah Winfrey, who has made billions of dollars simply by flaunting her so-called charitable acts. I don’t think anyone should do anything in order to be praised for it, in part because that means what is being done holds value in the eyes of others instead of themselves. For me, the need for external validation is a sign of weakness. I’d rather conduct my affairs in private, and often find myself accomplishing feats very fast in hopes they won’t be witnessed.

I have learned to be cautious about providing information about myself to strangers, in part because I am generally patently honest, even when that isn’t a prudent policy. Elaboration increases my chances of pissing others off. In my experience, most people are equal parts inauthentic and nosy, with untrustworthy motives and judgments. Most spend way too much time telling others what they think they want to hear; a game I do not play. Why the hell would I care to find out what you think I want to be told? This is why I believe criticism is usually more useful than praise. There’s nothing to be learned from being acknowledged for what you know, or more accurately, for what others think you know.