How some things are for us

Why do we resonate with some people, but not others? Why does hearing a song or poem sometimes feel like those words were written specifically for us to like, and how do we navigate a world of profound likes and dislikes?

We say there's no accounting for taste, often dismissively, yet I've been wondering lately how we might try to. Hold ourselves and each other accountable. You go through life and find someone you resonate with on a profound level, someone with whom you just spark. Vibrate. Like it's something more than just happenstance. Synchronicity, lessons of fate? The Universe speaking to you, or is that just New Age nonsense?

Moreover, why do certain things, particular objects of art stand out to us, while they leave others cold? My question formulated there, in art - why does this resonate so strongly for me? What does this bring about in me that keeps me tethered and in awe all these years later, when I'm sure it leaves so many others unimpressed and maybe even a little put off? - but it didn't start there. It started, as everything, with people.

The first time I felt a strong connection with someone, I wholeheartedly believed him when he told me we'd been meant to meet, had maybe even known each other before. I was much younger, and my gullibility conspired against me. When I broke away, I was gutted. I thought I'd missed my chance. The one person I was supposed to meet on this planet and I'd fucked it up. And that was, in part, the result of being young and naive, layered with months of subtly rewiring the way I thought about myself and the world.

But it was also a result of a culture that tells you all this stuff about soulmates and finding "the One". Most unhelpful and, I think, a little trite. Because, see, when you head off thinking you've only got one shot and that's gonna be ready-made for you, you tend to sabotage yourself. In myriad ways. You assume when you do "find them", your work will be done. You assume when you "lose them", you're screwed.

Neither true.

I'm a little older now and have found (to my relief) that sort of intense connection isn't singular and isn't always a sure sign of danger. I've developed an approach that's a little more nuanced, somewhat more Jungian. Now, when I start noticing a strong connection with someone (or something, because I don't think this is exclusive to people), I do a bunch of things. First, I try to pace it as much as I can without stamping it out. I look for empirical evidence, not just the bits that sound nice and romantic (and that doesn't just apply to romantic connections, either. We all want to think we've found "our person", be that a lover, best friend or mentor. Trouble is, everyone else knows how badly you want that, too, and they may not always come with the best intentions.).

Thankfully (weird word, but okay), I'm a little bit older now and that means I have some frame of reference. The way words sound concentric when they're tailored to what I want to hear. The needy, scary way I can sometimes sound when my panic buttons activate and I don't know it.

Another thing that's worth doing is evading the hype of "found my person". Now, I try to look at it more from a "I've unlocked the next level" perspective. Because sometimes, especially when you're drawn to something or someone, I don't think it's all just a great big coincidence. Maybe there's something here, in this person, in this story, for you to learn from, to grow with.
That also does wonders toward reminding me I'm not meant to remain static when I sense a change approaching. That finding "my people" comes with a learning curve, and just attempting to fold them into my existing stasis will not work.

When I look back at the parts I've lived so far, I can mostly see how they blend into one another, how one experience leads to the next, how nothing is necessarily random. And that lets me assume this next bit isn't random, either.

I think, sometimes, that someone left little yellow post-it notes on certain things and faces in my universe. Invisible, but nevertheless subconsciously salient to us. Except, I think they only had one color at the time, so the notes can mean both "isn't this grand?" and "mind you don't hurt yourself". I think, finally, it's up to us to decode what each post-it means, in turn, and that we ignore them at our own great peril.

But what do you think?