“Beee-yoouuuu-tee-fullllll.”
Yuri says that to make me laugh. He speaks in this funny accent and sounds out every syllable very slow: “Beeee-yoooooo-teeee-foooooool.”
“Do it again!” I’ll say, laughing and clapping my hands.
Then he will pointedly not do it and I will beg, beg him to do it again. I will pout and stare at him.
“Please do it again?”
He’ll wait for a moment, thinking about this, considering things. Then, with a very forceful “b” sound, very plosive:
“B-eeeee-yoooooooou-teeee-fuullllll!”
And I will dissolve into giggles and Yuri will smile and we continue with the day.
Do you ever stare at someone and wonder deeply what it’s like to be them? The first time I remember this happening was when I was in Washington, D.C. I was touring with the Neo-Futurists. We were all out to dinner. My brilliant, talented, achingly pretty friend Chloe was sitting next to me at the restaurant we had chosen, somewhere in Chinatown. My day had been spent in despair, dread, sadness: my marriage was in crisis and I was sick. I spoke very little that day, ate nothing.
And I will never forget looking over at Chloe and just desperately wanting to be her. “Just be Chloe,” I thought, and actually tried to will it to be true as I watched her. It seemed so easy, so possible; we were sitting right next to each other. She was laughing at something Bilal said; she was dipping into her sweet-and-sour sauce. Someone asked her a question. Couldn’t I be Chloe, instead? Couldn’t I just have her calm, happy, crab rangoon-dipping life instead of my ostomy-bagged, confusing, strife-stricken one? Time and space seemed utterly surmountable in that moment, like I could smush myself next to her and pop! be Chloe instead of me. She didn’t notice that I was staring at her, I don’t think. Sorry, Chloe. That was a bad day that you likely remember well. I hope you didn’t think I was going to stab you in the neck with a chopstick or anything. It wasn’t like that.
When Yuri speaks sometimes, I look at his mouth and his teeth. What is is like to have those teeth? To have that mouth? And while we’re at it: what’s it like to be a dude? Though I have wanted to be Yuri with less desperation than that time I wanted to be Chloe, I have wondered about how it is to be Yuri so strongly a few times that it counts. It happened when he got the job in New York. Sometimes it happens right when he wakes up in the morning, sleepyheaded and warm. It happens when he comes home after meeting up with various brothers. It definitely happens when he speaks Russian.
What does it taste like to be Yuri? How would he solve Problem X? What would he say? I want to know from the inside out.
There’s a Nietzsche quote in my book: “What else is love but understanding and rejoicing in the fact that another person lives, acts, and experiences otherwise than we do?”
“Beeeeeeee-yooooooo-teeee-fuullll.”
Matt Maldre
I admire your compassion, empathy, and admirement. Is it bad I never wondered what it’s like to be someone else? I’m very happy being me. I try to be considerate and think how my actions affect others. But that’s an interesting/mind-altering thought to wonder–truly wonder in the meaning of the word wonder/dream–what it’s like to be someone else.
Mary Fons
When are we having lunch? I’m serious. Watch your email…
Matt Maldre
Oh, one more thought, since that last comment wasn’t a complete thought. In college someone once told me they wondered what it’s like to see the world through my eyes–for a couple reasons: I can be a very goofy fun creative guy (which I feel weird saying that, and perhaps I was more like that in college when this person’s declaration of wonderment was stated) and two: I have a droopy eyelid which causes me to see the world slightly crooked. I never quite think anything of it as far as how I see the world. It’s simply how I see the world just like anyone else. You just simply observe. I dunno, perhaps many people just don’t quiet their mind and observe. But I think people do. I’m rather rambling here. What’s my point? Oh yeah, That for this person to wonder what it’s like to see the world through my eyes. That’s a very nice complimentary thought, but I often desired for this person to see the world through his own creative lens. We are such incredibly unique people.
Ok, now to swing it back to your post. Perhaps what helps us to see things more creatively, as my friend wished, is to desire to _understand_ how others see the world.