the Other
I came across someone (though I do not remember who) musing on a blog about the utterly solitary nature of human existence. And it’s true, isn’t it? We are all born into a unique universe; no one can share the same set of experiences, the same set of responses and reactions and secret, hidden thoughts.
Granted, for most people there will be a lot of overlap. The reality we share is fundamentally similar and allows at least a facile sort of communication between people. I think, though, about intimate relationships. Mostly of the committed-intimate-romantic type, though I think the ideas hold as well for other sorts of interactions. Does this limit to communication ultimately help or hinder? Even the experience of seeing a color is going to be different between two people, not only for ocular differences in observing its color values and the situational differences in viewing angle and reflectance and the silly physics stuff, but for the connotation of color. The random incident where someone wearing a red shirt pissed you off or the guy in the teal sweater-vest creeped you out or the pink of roses bought for a special someone on an incredible night. Any experience is the sum of all experience, and that could never be communicated. There is a disconnect between language’s ability to communicate and our ability to experience.
Is this good? Does this maintain individuality in the face of intimacy? That on some level any “shared” experience is still yours, alone? Or is this disconnect, this failure of communicate itself, a barrier preventing true intimacy? Is the mystery of an Other a necessity or a tragedy?
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