PERSONAL: WHAT I LEARNED

Here’s what I’ve learned in my life: to truly experience anything, to experience things in their entirety, all the senses must be engaged. A woman is like a fine wine of the rarest vintage. It is not enough to merely glance at the wine in the glass, then toss it back without a care or thought. Instead, one needs to take the time to let the wine relax and breathe, to observe its clarity and complexion, to admire its superb body, to draw in its exquisite bouquet with every breath, savoring it deeply, and then—and only then—should one take that first anticipatory sip, drinking it in slowly, mindfully, attuning the senses to all of its quixotic subtleties, its texture, its nuance… experiencing it... breathing it... living it... fading into it.

This is the secret to living and loving: everything must be experienced on all levels, everything must be explored, every invitation accepted, every experience fully immersed. When we travel to another city, why do we stay on the tourist track? How dreary to see the world this way! Far better to discover the rhythm of the place, to touch the city’s fabric with our hands, to absorb its culture through the pores of our skin. Who, after all, can say they’ve been to Paris when the only thing they remember is the Eiffel Tower?

It is the same with women and it is the same with wine.There are some women you encounter in your life that shake your foundations.Because of women,there are poets and artists in the world.Is not the curve of a woman the greatest creation of a benevolent God? Is not the smile of a woman the greatest source of inspiration on earth? How can one possibly resist the disarray of desire that beauty invokes? How can one devote his life to anything but a study of the poetics of women? It makes no sense to me to strive for anything else.

We always think it is only us. We think that everyone else is confident and funny and dynamic, and we are not. We might be at a party and over there in a corner we spy a clique of guys and girls talking and laughing, pearly teeth a-flashing, all fashionable and chic. The girls—look at them!—are so amazingly pretty and poised, and the guys… the guys are all so confident and cool and relaxed. Oh, how we wish in our heart of hearts that we could be just like them, so free-flowing and easy and beautiful and cool.

What we universally fail to realize is that they are all just as nervous and insecure as we are! Every one of them is in their heads, trying hard not to screw it up. The guys are mentally face-palming themselves, thinking, “Ah... why did I just say that? What a stupid thing to say. What an idiot I am!” And the girls are thinking, “Does he like me? No, he probably likes her. Or... maybe her? Ah, I knew it! I should have worn my other skirt, this one makes me look fat, or my red dress, why didn’t I wear my red dress? And why, oh why, did I eat those stupid onions in the salad? I hope he doesn’t come too close!” And yet... the only thing we can see from our vantage point over here are easy smiles and graceful confidence.

Men can’t imagine that a beautiful woman could ever be insecure or shy or lonely. “That can’t be right,” they say. “Look how perfect she is! She is gorgeous! Look at her compared to me. How in the world could she possibly be nervous or insecure? It makes no sense whatsoever.” They can’t grasp the notion that sometimes a pretty girl is quiet and only giving one-word answers to their questions because she doesn’t think she has anything interesting to say. Men can’t understand this at all. If I mention this to men, some look at me like I am crazy for even suggesting it, shaking their heads and chuckling, while others will nod in feigned agreement, then go quiet, pondering, looking up and to the right. I keep on saying it. They keep on nodding. But none of them understand it. The concept is too foreign for men, like trying to explain heaven to bears.