so blue / going on a date nerves

Even when the stakes are low, anticipation of a first date can feel mildly nervewracking. Dating is inherently vulnerable. You’re submitting yourself to judgment at the same time as setting yourself up for risk. Risk of disappointment, of wasted time, of unrequited feelings, of assault, of uncomfortable conversation, of a simply bad time. And also the chance of excitement, of silliness, of joy, of connection, of titillation, of love and partnership. When you’re seeking a partner, there are a lot of sensations tied up with the expectations of a single date, even if you’ve gotten systematically skilled at having pathologically low expectations for any new person.

You’re about to talk to a stranger

I like downgrading this person you’re about to go on a date with to a stranger. Not because I feel fear of strangers, but because it points out that I actually know nothing about them. Whether we’ve met in person, we’ve been chatting on the apps, or I’m being set up, I don’t know their values. Their laugh. Their scent. They could be anyone! So Blue is a reminder not to have too many expectations, because I have no idea who this stranger is.

Or maybe he’ll talk at you

It seems like a common occurrence that when my straight female friends go on dates, they don’t get asked a single follow-up question. Sure, maybe a guy will ask where they’re from, what they do, etc, but then the man turns that into an opportunity to share his own story, opinion, preference. It’s hurtful. To feel like someone doesn’t want to understand you or find out anything deeper. I’m trying to remind myself that the nerves I’m feeling are likely unnecessary, because it’s unlikely I’ll be interested in this person anyway. I go on a lot of first dates and not a lot of second dates. It’s helpful to remind myself that when my heart’s thumping away, it’s probably for no real reason.

What you’re not is in danger

Anxiety is a major plague of my life. Of course there is an evolutionary reason for anxiety, or at least for the bodily systems that cause it. It keeps us protective and alert when we’re in danger. But what’s problematic is when those systems go haywire when there is no danger. The body and mind can be calm, because there is no external threat – it’s just Greg with an IPA.

So why’s your blood so blue?

I’ve got a myth to bust for you. The blood in your veins is not actually blue – it’s red. The way that light is absorbed and refracted through our skin makes it appear blue. Mythbusting aside, I still think of the oxygenated blood that rushes away from the heart as red, and the spent blood on the way back as blue. In Tiny Baby, I mention how one of my anxiety responses is feeling unable to catch a deep breath. I associate a lack of oxygen with anxiety – a lack of being able to breathe slowly and steadily, to calmly fill my body with the nourishment it needs to operate in homeostasis. My blood is blue – it’s lacking the oxygen it needs to calm my system. Once again, naming it is a practice in eradicating it.

Is what he’s saying exciting?
Or is it your fantasy?
If you could, you’d date your imagination
Don’t forget curiosity

As a major daydreamer with an overactive imagination, I have to rein in expectations pretty often. I’m reminding myself to be present for what this person is actually offering, rather than extrapolating things to fit the model of a fantasy that I’ve created. Because of course we all want to date this ideal human who we’ve invented. (Anyone? Anyone? Just me?) But expecting someone to actually be our ideal instead of being curious about how they can surprise us is a surefire way to be disappointed.

White marble bowl in the ocean
The calm waters surrounding you

This last verse is very specific and comes from a moment of calm, joy, and connectivity at my favorite hot springs resort in Oregon. There is a beautiful wood steamroom there that gets psychedelically hot. There’s a lot of hippie-leaning folks who hang out at this resort, so inside this sauna, they’ll sometimes be singing, chanting, smacking each other with cedar branches. It can be a lot. On this last occasion, though, I was sharing the space with one other person, and he started a soft singing in a language I didn’t understand. It created a visualization for me in which I was lying in an enormous shallow white marble bowl in a calm cerulean ocean, being gently rocked by the waters and feeling the comforting sensations of a warm sun and the cool marble. It was a truly beautiful moment that I shared with this man, and the song started drawing out some emotions from deep within me that hadn’t been able to escape yet. One other person entered the sauna at this point, and I realized that I had been holding back tears. Suddenly, brimming with warmth, he said to both of us, “I really hope that you both find everything you need in life.” I didn’t think I needed to hold back tears any longer. I asked them if they would mind if I cried, and they welcomed my emotions. I sobbed in this blazingly hot wet sauna, my tears mingling with sweat and steam. It felt purifying, it felt cathartic, it felt safe. I’m calling back on that moment here, to remind myself of a visualization that makes me feel connected, cared for, welcomed, loved, and soothed, even by strangers. Strangers can be so beautiful.

Peace in the present
Come back from eleven
Just focus on the sea

At the risk of ending on a note that’s too woo woo, coming back from eleven is a cheeky reference to Spinal Tap – when your body is so loud that you’re at an 11/10, it’s time to calm things down.

Throughout the song, “so blue” changes meaning. In the initial chorus, it’s referring to my deoxygenated blood, subject to the nervousness and anxiety. In the second verse, it’s acknowledging that dating can involve a lot of disappointment and lack of connection, so it’s accepting the sadness that accompanies this vulnerable act. As the song ends, I’m floating in the beauty of the Pacific. As a native Southern Californian, it’s purifying. It’s energizing. It’s home.