Skip to main content

Tables


I went to a bookclub meeting this past week. Our read for the month was a memoir about how the author had lived in the same place her whole life, and then in her 40s she moved away to a different place, and all the things that were hard (and all the things that were good) about it. I was somewhat underwhelmed by how overwhelmed she was, as someone who has moved around enough to always be the transplant, but some of the other bookclub members have lived here their whole lives and had more empathy.

Something that came up in the meeting was how, just as we collect stuff the longer we live in the same home, we can also collect people from school, work, place of worship, etc. And those people may not, at this point, be actively contributing to our lives nor we to theirs, but we've got them now so then what. It was an illuminating discussion for me, because it clarified something. When we first moved here nine years ago, I was told (and found) the locals to be cliquish and unfriendly. But those descriptors never felt quite right. Now I would say that they have filled all the available seats at their tables, and there simply isn't room for anyone else. They already have a Trivia Night Friend, a Friend Who Is Good At Planning, a Bookish Friend, a Friend Who Pushes Them Outside Their Comfort Zone, a Queer Friend, a Friend Who Hypes Them Up, etc... and they don't need me. They're not currently hiring; the vacancies are filled.

On a cognitive level, that makes sense. But I do not understand it. Even when I lived in the place my family was from, I still went about with friendly curiosity, eager to hear peoples' stories and to share my own experiences with them. I have less of a desire to fill an imaginary table than I do to walk from fire to fire, sharing the warmth of flame and tale. I do want to have deep friendships, people I know well who know me well, but I'm not possessive about it. And I also have a high capacity.

Having gained that knowledge, I'm not sure what to do with it now. Perhaps redirect my efforts toward other transplants, people whose tables aren't already full and with whom I already have at least one shared experience: that we are all in the overflow seating on the front step, while the party goes on inside.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Reading and Writing

  #attunedpracticetuesdays: where we share the rituals and routines that are aligned with our sense of peace and wellbeing A couple of months ago, while working on a commission project , I started a new practice. I was listening to audio books while working since the project required my eyes but not my full attention, and since it was fairly labor intensive, I took the weekends off (not something I would normally do). Lacking something to do with my hands, the first Saturday I decided to put my speedy reading to good use and read a novel in one sitting (my preferred method, anyway). Then I read another novel the next Saturday. And now it has becomes a weekly thing. The only rule is that it has to be fiction - I read enough non fiction that a novel a week isn't going to hurt anything (and it wouldn't anyway, reading is reading). Helping out with Paper Heart Books and attending a bring-your-own-book-club meeting last week helped restock my dwindling supply. I like to get hard cop
Post a Comment
Read more

Festivals and Fairs

October is the Month of Fun Outings. The weather is generally pleasant, many things are less crowded than they are in summer because school has started back, and there are also an array of local events. We try to make the most of it, since I got used to not getting sick while we stayed in for a couple years so now we ride out the germiest months at home. But before that, we frolic. We'll miss our favorite fall festival due to scheduling conflict, but there will be a small one at my eldest's dance studio, and we're all going to the state fair this year. There are street fairs and at some point soon we'll go and each choose a pumpkin to stack on the front step five deep, and my littlest will name each family member while pointing at their pumpkin every time we go in or out the door.  I've started leaving windows open at night, and sometimes it's been cool enough to have them open during the day, too. My desk candle has expanded to three candles on a cheese board b
Post a Comment
Read more

3.3 - Forage

I recently looked up the rest of the Mary Oliver poem that ends in "tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" because that was the only part I had ever heard, and it turns out the rest of The Summer Day  is about going for a walk and lying about in the grass. That's what she planned to do with her one wild and precious life. I feel like it gets misapplied a lot. As the weather grows cooler, I've been thinking about foraging, as a concept. I am a terrible gardener. Even as a child I loathed getting up early and tramping through the dewy grass to the dusty garden to water and pull weeds. As an adult, I stumbled onto the one plant that likes the climate of my front windows but claim no personal credit for their flourishing. If we ever move I may have to leave them here, to ensure their survival. There's also a pot of mint by my front step that survives on rain water or when one of the kids points out that it's a bit crunchy. Plants
1 comment
Read more