Day 49: The Business of Souls

Since it's the classy take on boring business attire, I'm calling this one, "Takin' Care of Business." For night, lose the jacket, sub the purse for a cute, sparkly clutch, and kick up your heels.

"I like the word "soul." I like the word "mate." Other than that, you got me." Mr. Big

This is the first episode of season four, and it's such a--pardon the pun--soulful one. I say soulful, because while it's definitely serious, it's not particularly sad. The subject is soul mates--whether or not they exist, how you know if you've found one, how you know when you haven't--but the larger issues is how we all deal with being alone.

Carrie is turning 35, and she has started to receive flyers for singles' gatherings. Samantha and the girls decide to throw her a party, but they all get stuck in traffic on the way there, leaving her waiting at the table alone. Later, she meets up with her friends, who decide that they can all be soul mates for each other. On her way home, Carrie sees Big, fresh off the plane from London, waiting at her curb with balloons and best wishes. The rest of the clan also deals with loneliness in one form or another. Charlotte realizes that her marriage with Trey is falling apart. Miranda wonders if there really isn't a soul mate for everyone, since she doesn't seem to be finding hers. Samantha forms a crush on a priest whose vows keep him from returning her advances.

As I write this, I'm listening to Olafur Arnalds, whose music seems to match the mood of the episode and topic. Music has always held such a special place in my life and in my soul, and I think it's largely because it reminds me of the human condition--the place we can all find ourselves in when no one else is around, the place that reminds us of our mortality and unique experience of life, which can sometimes feel awfully lonely.

I have to say that on this one, I'm completely in Big's camp. The idea of a soul mate seems so wonderful and, in a way, so right. I mean, if we can all relate to feeling lonely and wanting meaningful companionship, doesn't there have to be that one person who will never let us feel lonely again--a person who "completes" the parts of us that seem to be forever elusive?

I think there are definitely companions to our souls. These people make us feel alive and hopeful. They help us feel like we're not alone in the experience of life, because they are on our same page. If we're lucky and fortify those natural connections, we can find lifelong friends and partners--people who will cry when we cry and rejoice with us, because they feel things with us. But this is if we're very lucky.

I do think that the idea of one, pure soul mate, who compliments you in every way and makes you find a lasting peace with the crappy parts of life is not entirely realistic. Maybe for some it is. I cannot speak for them. I can only speak for myself and what seems to be the case for many people. While most find a person whom they love and feel content with, having this person in one's life doesn't, unfortunately, mean the end of feeling lonely. I do believe that, in the end, we are all very much alone in life. We have each other and all share in very similar experiences, but when we are sitting in our quiet houses, free of the distractions of the world and the sounding boards we are used to (friends, family, partners, dogs, TV), we are very much alone with our memories, our thoughts, our issues. No soul mate is ever going to take that loneliness away.

And frankly, I'm not sure I'd want to live without those "soulful" alone moments. When I'm listening to a beautiful piece of music, for example, I enjoy the company of myself and my subjective experience of what I'm listening to. It is something I will never share with anyone, because it's my experience. It is like a private conversation between me and life. No amount of talking is going to adequately explain how I feel in that moment. Even if someone knew exactly what I know about that piece of music, we would not hear it in the same way. We would not remember the same things, have exactly the same impressions, or even hear the same lines.

There is something sad about this realization, because it means we are truly alone in some deep sense. But to me, it is more honest than thinking that we are completed by one person or even several. We are complete in and of ourselves--or rather if we need someone to complete us, we may never feel complete. Others simply enrich our lives and make them beautiful.

This all is not to say that we may feel romantic completeness with one person--feel as though we can stop searching for a mate, because we've found someone who just "gets" us and makes us feel not as lonely. But that person will never be able to keep us from loneliness altogether, because there will always be things that we still have to do solo--fight off illness, feed our bodies and minds, follow our passions. These are things we can try to share with people, but never as closely as we experience them ourselves.

So, this is all coming from a hopeless romantic, who has believed in soul mates for as long as she can remember. Maybe it's my age. Maybe it's having been disappointed before. Maybe it's just feeling like, as I forge through life and learn to trust myself and my experiences, the need for someone to complete me isn't as strong. But for whatever reason, I've decided it's just easier to believe in myself and in friendship and love for what they are--really nice things. We don't have to complete each other for our relationships to be extremely deep and meaningful. We can take the pressure off of each other and just enjoy what we have.

Besides, if we need someone to complete us for us to feel okay, then we don't feel okay with ourselves alone, and I don't like that idea. It's better to be whole and come into any partnership as such. That said, I still like the word "soul" and the word "mate." And maybe soul mates exist--but not as people who complete us but people who face the world and its loneliness with us, eyes and heart wide open.

I hope you'll be back. I will.