Being Untouchable

"One cannot be betrayed if one has no people."
--Kobayashi in The Usual Suspects


I used to pride myself on my ability to seclude myself, to moderate emotion. I was proud of my control, my ability to withhold.

I was not a loner. I just made sure no one had easy access to me, to the emotions I kept so carefully incarcerated.

I wanted people to see me as hardened, calloused--manly. I wanted to be given a wide berth. I wanted strangers to look away from my stare. I especially didn't want to need anybody.

I wanted to be untouchable.


"No matter how alone you are, and how tricky and determined, don't you need one person to know?"
--Alice Munro, from "Pictures of the Ice"


Even as I sneered at people who were too quick to disclose, those who wanted to share everything with anyone who had two ears (or any other means of listening), I felt a faint longing for intimacy. Geuine intimacy. (Even now, I cringe as I write this because I still cling to the hologram I once maintained, that of the untouchable.) But I couldn't maintain it because I wasn't created to be isolated. No one is meant for isolation.

I began to discover this faint longing during my time at Indiana Wesleyan University, probably about the time I rededicated my life to Christ (and I don't think this is a coincidence). I had accepted Christ when I was young, but in January of 2004 I committed to do more than just be a "Christian." This time I wanted to actually live my life for Christ (which should be the foundation of the commitment in the first place).

And in order to live my life for Christ, I couldn't be detached, isolated...untouchable.

Interestingly, the more I sought God, and the more I sought Christian community, the less I wanted to be untouchable.
And now I want to touch lives; I want to encourage people, support them, listen when they need someone. And anyone who knows me knows I'm passionate about honesty--genuine, frank, confessional, vulnerable openness with those we love and trust. Obviously, these ideals cannot exist in seclusion.



"The person who tries to be alone will not succeed as a human being. His heart withers if it does not answer another heart. His mind shrinks away if he hears only the echoes of his own thoughts and finds no other inspiration."
--Pearl S. Buck


If Pearl S. Buck is right, if a "person who tries to be alone will not succeed as a human being," then I was failing at life. It can't get much worse than that, can it? Failing as a human being?

Maybe other avenues could have led me away from my emotional isolation. Maybe there are many viable processes that could have altered my mindset, but for me it was Jesus Christ who prompted me to lower my shield. And it was for this purpose: God wants to use me (He wants to use anyone who is willing to serve Him), but how could He use me to touch others when I kept everyone out of reach?

The result for me has been three things, in this order: I attained a sense of peace, became passionate, and discovered a purpose for my life.

And whether or not other routes could have prompted me to embrace openness, I know only Jesus Christ can provide the sort of freedom I've experienced. And He offers it to everyone (Sorry if I sound like a preacher, but it's too important not to mention).

Of course, Kobayashi (The Usual Suspects) is still right, "One cannot be betrayed if one has no people."

But without people, no matter how tricky and determined one might be, he will fail as a human being. And there is nothing manly about that.

-Thanks for reading.