Yin yang.
It's a Chinese philosophy that states "opposing forces are interconnected and interdependent in the natural world, giving rise to each other in turn." That's according to Wikipedia.
My creative writing professor, Jeff Bender, said it is the concept that in our lives, we are looking for or are meant to connect with someone whose strengths make up for our weaknesses.
Bender offered up his one-time professor Walter Kirn's novel Up in the Air as an example. He explained how the protagonist's goal was to earn 1,000,000 frequent flier miles, while his need was to make a connection. Bender even quoted the tagline of the lauded feature film starring George Clooney which reads like this: "The story of a man ready to make a connection."
This all circled back to this yin yang theory of life, or of connections or of romance.
Bender asked for further examples and my classmate Jake rambled on, his bony hands flailing around and occasionally coming together like a steeple, about some work he'd read where the main character was so good at everything that he failed at relationships.
This, Jake said, was an example of the yin yang theory.
Bender agreed with this assessment.
And so I sat there listening to this discussion -- me, the girl who has never had a boyfriend on Valentine's Day -- worrying that I would fall victim to this yin yang theory... That I, who want the world and which I seem to possess by outside estimation, would end up alone because I had no weaknesses.
It's just about the shittiest feeling -- like you've suddenly aged 30 years and can feel the only other living thing in your life weaving in and out of your legs, purring for attention.
I almost purred for attention right there in room 1123 of Anderson Hall.
(Note to self: Never own your own cat. Don't even cat-sit for friends.)
I don't understand it. And by it, I mean two things: (1) that a life can feel so meaningless when there wasn't a second life committed to it and (2) that seemingly everyone could be so single-minded about the measure of a life's worth while bashing singles.
It's not that I cannot connect with others. Just this week, I had the chance to converse with two of my inspirations (Abigail Bruley, music and fashion editor at two.one.five magazine, and Tim Whitaker, former editor of Philadelphia Weekly and current executive director of the non-profit Mighty Writers) and engaged in intelligent, friendly conversation with them.
And other good things have happened to me. I have gotten assignments from two magazines and I have just had my first fashion column for The Temple News published. Plus, my relationships with my family members are going swimmingly. Ooh, and I've got at least two good friends and a plan to meet for coffee with a new girl who very well may become a good friend.
Everything I could hope for seems to be happening to me... except making a romantic connection.
I could be totally content with that if the GODDAMN universe would stop telling me that I'll end up a lonely spinster for an ever-changing list of reasons.
Watching Sex and the City tonight -- my not-so secret Secret Single Behavior -- I couldn't help but scrawl on a Post-it these words: "The fact is, sometimes it's hard to walk in a single woman's shoes. That's why we need really special ones now and then. To make the walk a little more fun."
Carrie Bradshaw really gets it.
Maybe slipping on a pair of really special shoes will cure my blues.
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