Relationality

Many people have discussed the way that we are created to live in relationships. We worry (or, occasionally, joke) about people who have no friends. It strikes me, though, that we are almost defined by our relationships.

What is the real "you"? The person you are in your quiet moments, or the person you are when relating to people (if we include things like consumer choices in the latter)? In a sense, it's related to the tension of faith and works. If there are things I might think, but would never express for fear of offending my friends, and would never act upon, for fear of being found out, then how strongly do I really think them? Hmm. There's deep water there. Hold that thought.

I've always had -- and I guess most people do -- a number of more-or-less distinct circles of friends. There's family, then there's colleagues, then there's church friends, then there's other friends, friends from other churches, guys I bump into at the gym, and, now, internet friends too. Facebook has a little application which draws a picture showing which of your friends are friends with others of your friends. My picture has lots of little, more-or-less isolated groups.

There's a wierd dissonance when people from those isolated groups do meet up. It's not generally bad, in fact, but it makes you slightly fearful: am I consistent with these different groups, or do I have different personas? If so, which is the real "me"?

Current wisdom encourages people to be true to themselves; to live the dream; to avoid suppressing their inner selves. I'm sure that's founded on good psychology, but it strikes me that this course of action frequently leads to dislocation, pain, and so on. If I said what I truly thought, and in the process alienated my family (for example; I don't know of anything likely to do that :-) ), would I really be happier than if I bit my tongue? I guess it depends. But so often, friends and family are the ones who keep us honest, who act as correctives upon our whackier points of view or purchasing decisions. That's good, it seems to me; we are made to live in relationships.

One of the engaging features of TV's LOST drama is the way that the cast do not have super knowledge of everything which has happened to everyone else. Rather like real life, each person has their own perspective on events, shaped by what they have witnessed and what conversations they have had, and what secrets they keep from each other. It's an interesting picture, and part of life's complexity I sometimes overlook.

Is there a point to this rambling?

I wonder. Profoundly, we need one another. I suspect that relationships are sometimes more important than truth: truth about ourselves, or truth in what we believe. We disrupt them at our peril.