Knowing some others is by necessity casual and without intimacy. 

We live busy lives among lots and lots of people and so it is anticipated that many of our relationships will be and remain platonic. 

A form of tragedy, and I do not use the term lightly, is when our most intimate relationships get stuck in little more than a platonic rut. 

And, of course the most intimate behaviors can remain platonic and mechanical and lack any depth of authentic human connection. 

This is surely a definition of loneliness? 

Knowing another at growing depth is no easy privilege or joy. When approaching the success of really getting to know someone, we seldom arrive, but when it does, it is indeed both a privilege and joy.

It may hold the essence of happiness. 

Entering the world of another takes patience, time, commitment, love, wisdom and tenacity. 

It is not that others are so elusive, evasive or enigmatic. 

The problem is that it is so very hard to know ourselves.

It remains true: the highest hurdle to knowing you is knowing me. 

I must do the work it takes to know me, so I may even begin to be interested in knowing you.

The depths of your grief and disappointments, the nucleus of your joys, will remain foreign to me while I am unwilling to delve into my own.