Someone Completely Different From You

We often hear, in pleas for cultural, national, or humanitarian unity, such conciliatory cliches as "deep down, we're all alike" and "all people want the same things." 

In my experience, this is not true. 

Granted,  my experience is limited, as I'm not particularly well traveled -- with my body, at least. But if I do not find this to hold true within the limited swath of humanity with which I have had direct contact, then how could it be true in a larger sample? Because the farther one zooms out, the greater variety or heterogeneity is captured, and thus the potential similarities less numerous or more abstract. 

I do believe that all beings -- indeed all of existence, including rocks, clouds, stars, and the like -- are suffused with a common "energy." In this sense, I believe that all are one.

I also recognize that all humans share certain physical needs: life-sustaining food and shelter being the big ones. Like all living things, humans also, generally speaking, share a basic physiological drive to procreate. And they say we all desire peace. The Dalai Lama, for example, wrote the following on Twitter in 2018: 

"In our quest for happiness and the avoidance of suffering, we are all fundamentally the same, and therefore equal. Despite all the characteristics that differentiate us - race, language, religion, gender, wealth and many others - we are all equal in terms of our basic humanity."

Let's stop there and think. While it's true all people need sustenance to survive, not all people love food. Some would eat a pill a day to survive if they could. Some people can be perfectly happy living their lives more or less outdoors, with only a tent or lean-to or cave to protect them from the elements as needed. Some adults don't have much, or any, interest in procreation or even sex. 

And what does "peace" even mean? Freedom from war? Throughout human history we have had wars precisely because some or many people wanted them. Or does it mean freedom from conflict? A frictionless life? I'm not sure these are even meaningful or desirable goals. 

The Dalai Lama says we all quest for happiness and avoid suffering, and that this is what makes us human. But again, what is happiness? What is suffering? Can we agree on what these words mean? In Buddhism they may have specific definitions, but certainly not all of humanity knows these definitions or agrees with them. The words are ultimately too vague and squishy to be helpful. 

So do we all want the same things? Not objectively. Only, potentially, in a very vague, subjective, ultimately unhelpful sense. 

Another thing you'll often hear that all humans supposedly want or need is companionship, community, love, and the like. This is something I want to drill down on even more. But in a nutshell: across humanity we see an incredibly wide range of perspectives on companionship and community. You read stories of people who live for decades by themselves in the wilderness, by choice, more or less healthy and happy. And there are others who spend their days and nights in constant close contact with other individuals, by choice, more or less healthy and happy. Do we all want the same things? Not hardly. 

I have seen and felt this even within some of the more homogeneous environments in which I have spent time, such as my suburban public high school in a mostly well-off, mostly white town. I also lived for four years in one of the most socioeconomically and racially diverse neighborhoods in one of the most diverse cities in the United States and became very active in my community through volunteering and other activities -- in other words, interacting very closely on important issues with many people from very different backgrounds -- and during that time realized that while these people also often wanted completely different things for their home or block or street, they didn't seem to be any more of a mixed bag than the mostly comfortable, mostly white teenagers at my high school. 

Today, another 15 years or so later, I'm only more certain of this view: that deep down, we are not all alike in any way that is measurable or meaningful. Because of the incredible potential of the human mind, and the complexity of the human genome, and the sheer amount of information and experiences available to inform everything from our worldview and values to the subconscious processes undermining almost all of our thoughts and actions, we are constantly splintering apart into infinity. I believe the most salient way to put it is that humans are, in fact, all incredibly different beings -- even siblings, and sometimes even identical twins. 

Granted, not all differences are created equal, and this is where it gets interesting. Many "minor" differences can be overridden by other "major" similarities. In particular, I think differences in social qualities, characteristics, and preferences that affect relationship to others, such as extroversion/introversion, autism, and other aspects of mental health, are far and away the most important, and can subsume many other differences including race, religion, wealth, physical health/ability, tastes/interests, and so on. 

Based on my observations, I also believe that most people in all populations and societies and communities around the globe do share a lot of common ground in terms of social qualities and preferences. Imagine a bell curve with a huge middle ground. In this area are people who share an affinity with their "tribe." They relate to and understand and enjoy spending time with others like them, however defined. This is probably the most prevalent human behavioral trait, and I think this commonality is what we really mean when we say "all people are basically alike." 

But it's not all people. Because on either end of this huge middle ground of the bell curve are the outliers. On one side are the extremely social, who relate not only to their tribe but to all people of all types. They have very limited needs for solitude and can feel comfortable and in control in almost any social situation. Within minutes they can find something in common with anyone they meet from any background. If mentally healthy, these people tend to do really well. Even if not, they have a leg up. The only downside, I'd guess, may be that belonging everywhere could mean belonging nowhere. There could also be, I'd guess, a greater chance for mania, or other mental health challenges. 

On the other skinny end of the fat bell curve are the extremely asocial. (Not anti-social, just asocial, like asexual, meaning basically "without.") These people are introverts, to be sure, but it's even more than that, which is why I brought up autism. That's just a label, but being at this far end of the social "spectrum" requires not just a preference to be alone, but a certain deficiency in social behavior -- in something akin to the so-called "theory of mind," or the capacity to understand other individuals by ascribing mental states to them. 

(Speaking of theory of mind, I remember the precise moment that I first realized, on an intellectual level, that other humans do have interior lives. I'm not sure of my exact age, but I believe I was in my teens, and I was on airplane, and I looked around at all the other bodies, and I realized, wow, all of these bodies are associated with their own lives, their own internal thoughts, etc. Most people come to realize this as toddlers, and begin to hone their ability to gaze into others' internal worlds. I realized it, again intellectually only, much later, and still at 43 essentially lack the ability to understand what is going on inside other people's heads when I look at their faces or hear about something they've experienced, etc.) 

Anyway, mentally unhealthy people on this end of the social spectrum could be in for a very rough time -- however I also think people of this sort may be less likely to suffer from mental health issues because they are mentally resourceful and secure by nature, and learn to be mentally strong and flexible by necessity (for masking, fitting in, appearing "normal"). 

But even for mentally healthy people, this way of being can be difficult because it is necessarily isolating. Not only do we observe that almost all of humanity seems to relate to almost all of the rest of humanity in a way we cannot or do not grasp, but it's also very hard, if not impossible, to identify others like ourselves because we tend to be in hiding in one way or another. On top of that, even if we did find them, we would still find it difficult to relate to them on a deep level. 

The solution for most of us is to find a way of life that supports our mental and physical health by providing for our particular most basic needs (sustenance/safety/solitude), however that may look. We carve out a little space in a world and among a species that doesn't really understand us, or quite acknowledge we exist.

I am not bitter or angry about all this. It is my lot, just as I am tall with brown hair and white skin. I am a happy, healthy, kind, well adjusted person with many friends and acquaintances, and I care deeply for all human life, just as I do for all plant and animal life -- with which I share as much of an affinity and understanding as I do with humans, who are only animals. 

What I find most worthy of reflection in all this is how my particular way of seeing the world, my unique and hidden perspective, my very clear point of view, informs everything about me, everything I do and everything I am, and always has: my family, my work, my lifestyle, my hobbies, my passions, my art, my intellect, my physicality, my choices and decisions. This since I was a kid. I have always felt different, and I grow more different by the day. 

(And if I appear outwardly conventional in some respects, that's intentional, mostly out of a desire to avoid further interaction. I am not different to attract attention, though I do, in a superficial sense, still look and act different than most of my peers, for example through the many self-designed tattoos on my arms.)

Future chapters will delve deeper in these areas defined by my difference. First, parenting.