Making new friends, especially younger ones, seems good strategy – but who wants raw numbers when raw emotion is what I need?
Day’s grind morphed to evening, to night.
’tings not done, excused, rearranged.
Keeping days, evenings – filled up, without the need of anyone at all. Been doing lone alone thing more and more. Getting better at it no longer seems a good thing.
Coping with solitude – getting grief out of my way is good – many good things going on lately. I’m lighter on my feet, more nimble-time. Flexibility – physical, emotional and financial health on a level I can’t recall in many years.
This glass of mine is definitely more than half full.
Friends? They’ve been kind, understanding and listen/tolerate better than I might have ever deserved and I’m grateful. Certainly more understanding of me than I might tolerate in them. But judging friends, or their motives, is not good policy. One cannot have too many, there are never enough – and as seems to happen at this stage of life, too many friends have left the party too soon for my liking.
Years, bumps and curvy roads in and between relationships. Counseled often by well meaning friends to try some more alone time, some-tween times. Aside from intermittent dating forays – they seem further and further apart – I realize the last few years have been incrementally lone and alone times. I’ve put distance between myself and intimacy, time and space between ‘them times’ and now. Friends, company – sure I have that. But I’m not looking for a pal, I’m looking to cook breakfast for two on a regular basis.
This is, in so many ways, a happy time. There is peace in my valley, less weight on my shoulders and lightness afoot, yet something is missing. The quiet times aren’t as difficult anymore. I’ve gotten good at filling them with space/time filling. Too good at it. It is feeling more normal and calm. Drama free – that part is good, and I like the calm. But there is no sizzle in calm. There are fewer dreams in calm. There a fewer experiments in calm, fewer adventures, fewer skinned knees, fewer bruised hearts.
Bumps and bruises are like cub-scout merit badges – and I’m not so happy about being bruise free. Those friends who keep saying ‘when it is meant to happen, you’ll meet someone – just when you least expect it’. But nobody will give me a guarantee on that. I suspect it is a wishful delusion.
Been ruminating a while.
Who wants to sail away on an adventure when walking shores with someone is what we need? By no means rudderless or aimless, I’ll navigate by starlight, street light and principles but prefer to aim for someone. So, I’ve decided a new lover is in order –
I’m picking up the ‘where I left off’ writing that novel stored in my belly. Started it, in my heart, but it slipped …
column written/ published from Calgary
morning walk: 9C/48F, damp steady breeze – a vehicle on the car lot caught my eye (must go check it out!), Gusta happy romping on the wet grass. We came back soaked. I can take my shoes off – but she needed a thorough toweling off.
Meeting people..... Always look and remember the colour of their eyes.... Means you have had good eye contact. And, find out what they are really passionate about - what do they do for fun - aside from golf etc.... Many conversations begin with "what do you do"? I find that I have been more successful with the "hey, what do you do for funs?" approach - travel, scuba dive, race cars, bicycle, collect wine..... Cheers, TL, Calgary, AB
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