What brought you here today?

In a recent yoga class, the instructor asked us to think of what it was that brought us here today: “Is it love? Is it connection? Is it community? That was my reason for showing up today.” 

I thought she was being paid to show up, but that’s none of my business. 

Likewise, I would never start my book club intro with: “Hi, my name is Angela, and I’m here today because I haven’t seen a real human being in four days.” 

This question gets asked at every Full Moon Circle, Women’s Circle, Cacao Circle, Plant Medicine Circle ever held. I remember this one singing circle I went to where we had to sit in small groups and go around and share a word of how we’re feeling and keep going until someone rang a bell. I’m not 100% certain, but I’m pretty sure that is a HIPAA violation. 

It should be nobody’s business why I decided to show up to this event. Oftentimes, when I’m asked that, I’m forced to make up some trauma on the spot just so I don’t look like I’m only here for the snacks. 

Imagine if they collected this data everywhere. 

At the gym: “I’m here because I went through my boyfriend’s phone.” 

At a run club: “I’m here because the dating apps aren’t working.” 

At poker: “I’m here because therapy is expensive.” 

I understand why this question gets asked. It’s a way for people to find connection. It’s like having a shared purpose. But isn’t being here already a shared bonding experience? There are so many other things I could be doing with my time. Granted, they’re not all that great, but still. 

I held my first workshop on writing last week. I did not ask the people that showed up why they came, nor did I care. It seems narcissistic to ask someone why they showed up to your event because you’re forcing them to fake enthusiasm they might not have, like that viral video with all those celebrities singing “Imagine.” It’s diabolical, I tell you, along the same lines as, “Turn to someone beside you and tell them one interesting fact about yourself.” 

I have no time for these types of games. Just let me go through your 12-step program without being so nosy. The problem with wanting deep, meaningful conversations is that when the questions are asked by a chaperone, they’re not fun anymore. They feel more like homework rather than play, and that’s coming from someone who loves homework. 

When I did Ayahuasca in South America, we had to take turns making a wish into the fire. I wanted to wish for world peace, but many people who went before me sent good intentions to their exes, so I did the same. I still think about that experience to this day. What if I could’ve stopped the wars but didn’t because I was afraid of speaking my truth? So I have a question for you (now that I’ve collected your information): What was it that brought you to this blog post?