Robert McKee will tell you a coincidence is nothing but an event with no meaning, as is much of life. So, in the pursuit of truth and good story telling I'd like to think this belief holds some truth; though the fire burning my butt cheeks and giving wind to my fingers as they sail across the keyboard was lit by a rather coincidental feeling.
Last night, floating through a crowd of people on the 32nd floor at 25 The Esplanade in Toronto, I found myself in 'deep' conversation with my best friends' girl friend. She is a fine mix of attractive, confident and as I would find out, self-aware; her moves powered by a sheepish modesty. She's the type of girl who decides to run a marathon on a Monday morning and crosses the finish line on a Wednesday afternoon - not once stopping to think about who she might tell. It just aint her style.
Instead, she roams the party, drink held tight between both hands conveniently covering her cleavage - doing nothing to deter the eyes of the impish (male) Queens Commerce Alum in attendance.
As a preface: this isn't a love story (though if you're reading this you may beg to differ because after all, friends can and DO fall in love as well...right!?)
So the stage is set. It's a warm, breezy summer night in Toronto on a roof-top overlooking Lake Ontario. The only thing missing is the cloud-covered stars...which doesn't seem to phase the two of us as we dive in to an all-to-common, 4-drink deep conversation about life and its meaning (or lack thereof as McKee would argue if he were in attendance). A couple of prim lookin' star (cloud) gazers we were.
As we share our 'views on life,' we modestly embrace our reality: that the comfortable rich kid (blues) upbringing we shared may have had a hand in shaping us but it is in NO WAY a description of where we are today on the totem pole of life.
After sharing stories about how much we love and admire our parents we dive in to the serious stuff. Getting to a place, we both gather, in life when parent and people-pleasing no longer motivates you is an incredibly freeing, and hopefully not fleeting, feeling. For more than a few minutes we shared a pretty authentic and truthful conversation...one where my internal dialogue wasn't flooded with contradictions and self-punching regret a la Woody Allen and Diane Keaton in the often referenced balcony scene from Annie Hall.
ASIDE: It's sad but true that my entire life I have been infected with the 'people-pleasing' virus, which I'm convinced is different from being a 'nice fellow.' The cure: One Craft Burger, a large serving of french fries and a sparkling water compliments of a kind sir who will remain unanimous for now. Our chat, which he assured me was mutually beneficial, was full of insight only a 48 year old ex-corporate lawyer turned movie producer/writer could spew. Very simply and confidently he assured me following your heart is the way...the only way - and the only way to hear what your heart murmurs is to shut up and listen. More specifically, doing and being a person driven by wholly individualized goals and pursuits NOT one piggy-backing those of someone else, no matter how sexy they seem OR how 'fulfilling' it might be to yak about. "Be selfish," he said. People pleasing is the fastest way to a boring, unoriginal existence...and something I had evidently become incredibly skilled at. As they say, you live, you learn.
When my best friends' girl and I decide we're content with what's been covered we kindly go our separate ways. It's rare and refreshing for both parties to be wanting of nothing at the end of an emotionally charged conversation. So we went our separate ways with a kind selfishness; satisfied and (I may be speaking for myself) inspired.
Sure, we both left pleased but people pleasing wasn't the aim. The aim was speaking truthfully - something we can all work on. When we 'people-please' we tell lies disguised as the truth.
So, on with my story. As I walk away from the conversation I have the sudden urge to pee so I do it. Right there. In the middle of the floor in this roof-top party room full of Queen's Commerce grads and some friends from home. Let me remind you it's the 32nd floor of a pretty shmancy apartment building. Everyone stops. Stares...then, simultaneously if not rehearsed they all start unbuttoning and peeing. Everyone. Everywhere, just PEEING. Ok, that's a lie, but I needed to get your attention.
As I walk down the hall to the washroom, for real this time, I'm greeted by our private security guard, Dennis. Dennis is 5'7", overweight, with a greasy dirty-blond ponytail. He doesn't make eye contact with me but acknowledges me when I say, "how are you doing..Dennis?," His response is, "Oh, I'm doing." He still doesn't make eye contact but a reluctant smile reveals a cluster of dirty, missing, crooked teeth. We share a laugh as I stagger to the toilet. Aside from narrowly escaping a game of Blackberry Bobbing it's a regular washroom break and I head back toward the party room. As I enter the hallway I notice Dennis, face to the wall apparently 'reading' the wallpaper (free of words). I assume the design on the wallpaper isn't one of the lost languages Dennis has learned using the abundance of free time his job affords, so I do the noble thing and ask if he'd like a drink.
Not showing the slightest bit of embarrassment for being caught reading the wallpaper he kindly, with a big smile, obliges, "I can't have an alcoholic drink but I'd be able to accept a Red Bull." After an unsuccessful attempt to convince Dennis he should accept a red party-cup, contents 'unknown,' I maneuver through the party in to the kitchen to find the man a Red Bull, but end up with a glass of Pepsi Zero.
Confident in Dennis' lack of a bargaining position I walk in to the hallway, hand him the Pepsi Zero and make my way back to the party, where a game of 'throw-ping-pong-ball-in-to-cup-across-room,' ensues. After 150 or so failed attempts I go to check on Dennis and his calorie-free drink. Thirsty he was. The cup sits, empty, against the wall but to my pleasant surprise he's sitting in a nice chair...obviously provided by another, noble, party-goer.
When I get within earshot of Dennis I try again to convince him of the merits of drinking a 'mystery' bevy. This time, with a nervous smile, Dennis all but reads me the Riot Act. Confused, but not questioning, with his level of job loyalty I take the cup, graze a few elbows and bums walking through the lot, fill the cup with ice water and go back to sitting-Dennis.
I wish I'd stayed behind to explore his loyalty to Security Plus but I had places to go, other security personelle to see - which aided my pursuit of waking with head in vice.
When I woke my head was spinning and pounding as much from the nights' events as with ache. I had a great chat with a nice person and met an interestingly loyal security guard. I easily wrapped my head around the first encounter but deciding whether or not Dennis was a menace had me stumped.
Conclusion: Robert McKee, the story doctor, thinks coincidences are events without meaning. He's a pretty smart dude and that's a pretty simple premise. I mean, often I find myself meandering coincidences, past and future choices and typical existential matters. I also realize that when I'm doing anything I enjoy, and doing so with loyalty, my mind is free - not wasting time with the 'meaning of things.'
The one thing that sticks out when I think of Dennis is his reaction when I caught him reading the wallpaper. He wasn't shocked or embarrassed. Though he smiled, his look basically said, "Yeah, I'm reading the wallpaper. So what?"
His aim wasn't to please. Unless he was reading words from a lost language his aim was likely to doing anything he possibly could to pass time; maybe he was inventing a language. The point is, who the f*ck cares?! We shouldn't be wasting time comparing ourselves with others because as Osho says, "as humans that is our greatest disease."
Cheerio,
Special thanks to author Sarah Deming who inspired me to reference Osho. Check out her blog, The Spiral Staircase.
:)
ReplyDeleteOnce upon a time three friends took a trip to ?, and fell in love with each other haha.
ReplyDeleteP.S. you are very good at what you do.