The jittery horror of
stepping into a room
to meet new people
dropped away.
as I saw their faces, quiet intensity,
and understood: a matching caution
at the expensive challenge
of social exchange for a too receptive mind
These people are family.
Their minds are like mine. They speak my story,
my quandaries and strengths from unfamiliar mouths.
I feel the strangeness of belonging, of being in-step.
I can read these faces, anticipate their concerns and feelings,
the aching points of contention.
The strange particolour duality; confidence in intellectual clarity,
fearless advocacy for ideas and ethics, and a softer self, stepping away
from battles of self defence, as if they were all unwinnable.
Socialised to resolve contention in favour of our context,
The mind then makes this choice every time.
So hard to stand up for the rights of the self.
They seem to be so tenuous and compromised,
perhaps a problem of conceptual focal length.
Not worth making a fuss, avoiding conflict
until the pressure reaches some critical intensity
and some kind of fissure, explosion, or escape
changes the landscape irrevocably.
I watch her self-doubt and professional efficacy
flash and tumble.
We stay an hour longer finding commonalities, small ones,
parallel paths, recognition and smiles.
I walk to the car better armed to care
for my own perspective
now that I can see it corroborated
in the lives of others.