strange things are afoot
or what a visit home will do to you.
I saw a friend that I’ve known for nearly 30 years. In a few weeks, her youngest will have their first day of university. He's now the same age we were, when we met.
I wonder if he will meet lifelong friends. The kind that help you figure out where your next class is, even when it is across town. The kind that study with you and skip class with you and complain about the impossibility of that problem set with you.
Maybe he will be in their weddings and they will come to his. Maybe, just maybe he'll get to meet their kids one day.
Will he look back and wonder how they were ever friends?
We used to be on the same side of the wall. Then one of us crawled through a window. I don't know who. Still, one day, we found ourselves facing each other through glass. Somewhere, over decades, the glass turned into a portal. Now, when I reach across to visit she's in an entirely different galaxy, speaking an entirely different language, pitying me for how far I've strayed.
For awhile I kept repeating: people are not okay. I’ve stopped saying it, but I haven’t stopped believing it’s true. It’s hard to point to specific reasons why I believe this. Some of it comes directly from 1:1 conversations. I do a lot of them, and only some are scheduled. Some of it comes from paying attention to vibes.
Some of it comes from the dawning awareness of how I’m reacting, just below the level of intention.
When people are being intense, my body goes calm. When the group falls into a malaise, the “sunny” side of me kicks into high gear.
Lately, I find myself pulling the group energy by a hand cart, and I’m growing weary. But maybe, just maybe, I need to stop pulling. Maybe I need to look around, see who else is stuck, and shoulder up.
I had a tiff with my mom yesterday and I regret it so much.
I was doing too much: juggling work commitments and trying to help her out and ruminating on the idea that I put my personal life on hold for a week. So, I made a mistake while driving. She reacted. I snappede. I don’t remember what else I said but I do remember:
I’m doing my best.
She went quiet.
I regret it so much.