I'm good at making things look a certain way. Not physically, like, appearances, maybe seem is a better word. And I'm not the only person who's good at it (I'd argue that everyone is, to a certain degree) nor am I especially good at it, but I'm really only aware of when I'm doing it, so that's all the experience I have.
Anyway, I really started thinking about it today while waiting for a ride home from work. I was sitting outside, on the concrete, back against the building, reading a book. After about fifteen minutes I changed position. A few more minutes and I changed the position of my legs again. Getting more and more uncomfortable (and not moving to the grass, for some reason) I decidid to lay down on my side, propping my head up with my arm, elbow against the ground. I didn't really think about it, but it hurt a little bit. After a while an elderly couple walked past, and the woman said "Are you comfortable? Because you look comfortable, but that looks so uncomfortable!"
That got me thinking about how I, at least, do that kind of thing all the time. Make things seem what they aren't. Sometimes it's a conscious effort to hide something, or make a good impression, or whatever, but usually it's little things I don't even think about, and sometimes it's a complete accident!
At a recent family reunion we did a silly little "family olympics" where a bunch of us did a standing long jump. According to my cousins, I "made it look effortless" despite the fact that I didn't know what the heck I was doing. That was completely unintentional, I mean, I was trying, but I've never really intentionally done a standing long jump, so like...? What reason would I have to seem so good? I don't know.
THAT made me think about an even stranger version of this phenomenon (it sounds pretentious to call it a phenomenon, but whatever). Sometimes I make myself seem more sad, or more anxious, or more confused than I actually am, and for the life of me, I couldn't tell you why. It's weird.
Of course, I do a l,ot of trying to seem more composed, or more happy, or more engaged than I actually am, that's normal, but I still never really thought about it, and I certainly never thought about the stranger sides of that.
Why did I feel the need to pretend to look comfortable on that concrete when there was grass twenty feet away? I couldn't tell ya, buddy, but I sure did feel the need.
Author Notes: well this makes no sense