I've moved my blog to WP: idefiningi.wordpress.com
Showing posts with label relationships. Show all posts
Showing posts with label relationships. Show all posts
March 30, 2016
alone (adj., adv.)
alone (adj., adv.) from Old English all ana “unaccompanied, all by oneself”Apart from having a lot of time to myself in London surrounded by new friends, I’ve also spent some time by myself exploring other cities as well - cities like Vienna, Dublin, Berlin and Copenhagen. All these trips have involved visits with close friends, yet even so, I’ve still been quite aware of my unique, very personal, lone experience outside the shared experience, (which I of course cherish).
As I’ve gotten older and past my mid-twenties, I realized a noticeable shift towards relishing in experiencing things with myself. I value others no less; I think I just value myself more.
Even at times when my aloneness turns to loneliness, I remind myself I am not by myself. I remind myself I have a special moment - to be with myself. And these moments are truly sacred.
This is all quite opposite to how I once dealt with aloneness. I had fears of being alone for many years. And not necessarily fears of just being “alone" in life in general but of being “by myself” at any given time and space.
 |
| From an exhibit at the Tate Modern, "Performing for the Camera," exploring the ways in which we perform and manipulate who we are even in modes that appear to be realistic, voyeuristic, documentarian. |
A very extroverted person, I put in many efforts to be constantly with and around people. It was always easy for me, as I don’t get anxious around new people, groups, and I find it rather easy - and enjoyable - to “organize” other people into my life. I’ve also been very fortunate to have a really strong circle of people around me to draw from, in my eager mission to share my time with others, preferably loved ones.
Of course, I didn’t just pull others in to share in joyous experiences. At times of difficulty, indecision, restlessness or anxiety, I’d instinctively reach straight out to a friend or parent to grasp them for blind support, to pull them in so that I didn’t have to feel out the situation all on my own - and at certain times, to drag them right down with me because I didn’t have the clear judgment required to allow them to pull me up.
Oftentimes, it would all turn unnecessarily dramatic or would sap us both of energy because I couldn’t present a fair picture of what was wrong. And why? Because I hadn’t spent any time really assessing the picture more objectively for what it truly was. Many times the problem was me rather than the situation, or at least, it was much more simple than it seemed from the centre of my emotional storm. And how are we to ever have this clarity if we don’t take a moment to reflect?
For some people it’s harder to make room for time to be with themselves, especially at times of difficulty. I was one of those people. But in some ways, being forced to take things on (physically) alone, by moving out alone a few years ago, moving away alone more recently, and moving around as a traveler alone in spurts over many years, has taught me to appreciate being
No one can bring more insight to an experience you are living than you. By taking moments to listen to our inner thought processes, by spending time observing our given situations, we build more perspective on the situation and on ourselves in it. In a way, we make ourselves the object rather than the subject.
ye (pron.) Nominative plural of 2nd person pronoun þu (thou); Interestingly, the article ye was in fact an archaic way of writing the (þe), where the “y” character replaced the “thorn” (þ, representing the sound “th”), to accommodate printers at the time.I’ve learned to love to be with myself even when it’s tough. And I’ve learned to volunteer the time to be with myself and reflect, which has made me more attune to my feelings and where they’re really coming from. It enables me to find out what I can actually do about a difficult situation - if anything - before I engage someone else. And if I find that I can’t figure it out on my own, I know I am far more likely to be objective - and receptive - about another’s opinion when I do reach out.
National Express bus from Luton, March 28th, 9:55pm.
Originally posted on life.actually.tumblr.com.
January 1, 2016
solution (n.)
[Originally published on my Life Actually blog, one day into 2016, GMT.]
In some ways, it doesn’t feel like the end of a year. One part of it may be because I feel like I cut a new chapter in November and so it doesn’t quite feel like something new is beginning.
Some part of it may have to do with the fact that despite all my efforts, I got sick on Dec 31st thanks to a string of big nights out (I’m talkin’ 10am returns home) around Christmas. I wound up mostly staying in (at least by the city’s standards), having the mellowest NYE to date. I woke up with a sore throat and wound up on the couch at my roomie Tara’s parents place, reading and drinking mulled wine under the Christmas lights, then falling asleep for three hours to the sounds of Ben Hur on the TV. I eventually made it home with Tara where we continued with the lounging and lemon tea drinking, and after a short ringing in of the new year with my dad and his friends down the road, I walked home, had a bath and went to bed. Somewhat disappointing given that I’m finally living in a city that really knows how to ring in the new year; but at the end of it all, it’s all the same; another arbitrary night in the calendar, marked there to remind us to reflect on a period of time and create some intentions about our future.
I feel I’ve been doing this kind of thing, this reviewing and reflecting, non-stop since I moved here, though, so no hard feelings in retrospect. It’s been an active process for me for the last, dare I say, year - and this is something I want to emphasize as I create my “resolutions” for 2016. And by resolutions, I mean re-solutions.
So much of our life is bound by habit. What we do repeatedly becomes our life. For this reason, I think the best resolutions we can make are those that make us question the things we do that take up a whole year’s time (and eventually a whole lifetime).
What is the substance of our year that forges our long-term outcomes? How do our repeated ways of behaving/reacting reflect our embedded ways of thinking? It should be about challenging ourselves to leave particular patterns behind so we can reinvent and solve our current discomforts, problems or tribulations.
Diminishing our philosophy of life to a “list of resolutions” is amiss; it’s an active evolution not a line-up of dead-end intents and attempts (and eventual surrenderings).
In light of this, I’m looking at last year’s resolutions to see what I can take from them, regardless of their ‘status’ or ‘expiry.’
(Of course there are 10.)
1. Travel to 5 new places. I realize now you can see new places every day without going anywhere. Really. (For example, even after 20 years of living there, I saw Vancouver for the first time this year in many ways.)
2. Get more of my work published. I realized all I really wanted was to write freely, maybe move someone with my words - even if it was just me.
3. Move to a new city to bring visible changes in my life. I realize now it wasn’t so much about learning to adapt to a new place as it was about seeing what parts of me wouldn’t change.
4. Keep running to stay healthy and fit. I’ve learned that fitness is not an end in and of itself, but rather a byproduct of and catalyst for emotional wellbeing. Excercise helps me stabilize my thoughts and emotions and I’m getting better at making the sound decision to exercise even when I’m not feeling mentally and/or physically up for it, which is a challenge.
5. Keep a gratitude journal - and I did. But I learned that showing gratitude is more essential.
6. Take professional development courses. I learned that you need to apply new knowledge to actually learn it though. One way I did this, when lacking the option at work, was by teaching it to others.
7. Save $7,000. This as an arbitrary number, but as far as arbitrary savings goals are concerned, any number is better than zero. You never know when you may need to cash in; what important time it’ll buy you later; what act of desperation it’ll quell, what peace it will give you (unfortunately, but realistically) that will help you make the better decision.
8. Read a minimum of 12 books. In the last six months, I’ve read only half of two. And these have made more difference than a fat pile of top 100 listers. (Infinite Jest, A Guide to the Good Life)
9. Get closer and more deeply connected to my parents and my closest friends. In the process, I made friends out of my parents, I fell in love with a friend, and I certain friends became like family.
10. Do something out of my comfort zone. I chose bellydancing, which culminated in a performance in front of 350 people. Suffice to say, trying something out of your comfort zone doesn’t bring it into your comfort zone. It just makes you see how well you handle discomfort.
For the first time, my new years resolutions aren’t top-of-mind or clear to me. Perhaps it’s because the plates have shifted so much below my state of being with this move to London that everything feels like a new habit to be formed. I am reconfiguring a lot of myself this year…so in a year’s time, all I ask of myself is that I do this mindfully, gently, thoughtfully. That’s all; and it’s a whole lot.
In some ways, it doesn’t feel like the end of a year. One part of it may be because I feel like I cut a new chapter in November and so it doesn’t quite feel like something new is beginning.
Some part of it may have to do with the fact that despite all my efforts, I got sick on Dec 31st thanks to a string of big nights out (I’m talkin’ 10am returns home) around Christmas. I wound up mostly staying in (at least by the city’s standards), having the mellowest NYE to date. I woke up with a sore throat and wound up on the couch at my roomie Tara’s parents place, reading and drinking mulled wine under the Christmas lights, then falling asleep for three hours to the sounds of Ben Hur on the TV. I eventually made it home with Tara where we continued with the lounging and lemon tea drinking, and after a short ringing in of the new year with my dad and his friends down the road, I walked home, had a bath and went to bed. Somewhat disappointing given that I’m finally living in a city that really knows how to ring in the new year; but at the end of it all, it’s all the same; another arbitrary night in the calendar, marked there to remind us to reflect on a period of time and create some intentions about our future.
I feel I’ve been doing this kind of thing, this reviewing and reflecting, non-stop since I moved here, though, so no hard feelings in retrospect. It’s been an active process for me for the last, dare I say, year - and this is something I want to emphasize as I create my “resolutions” for 2016. And by resolutions, I mean re-solutions.
solution (n.) from solvere "to loosen, dissolve; untie, release, detach; depart; unlock; scatter; explain; dismiss; accomplish; remove,“ from PIE *se-lu-, "to loosen, divide, cut apart” (see lose).
So much of our life is bound by habit. What we do repeatedly becomes our life. For this reason, I think the best resolutions we can make are those that make us question the things we do that take up a whole year’s time (and eventually a whole lifetime).
What is the substance of our year that forges our long-term outcomes? How do our repeated ways of behaving/reacting reflect our embedded ways of thinking? It should be about challenging ourselves to leave particular patterns behind so we can reinvent and solve our current discomforts, problems or tribulations.
“We’re creatures of habit and we’ll get used to anything. I want to make sure I get used to the right things in this life. And however fast or slow it moves, one day, we’ll all eventually agree that it went by too fast. [Year by year, day by day, but really, all gone in a single blink.]” - me, 2 months ago
 |
| The years melt into each other... |
Diminishing our philosophy of life to a “list of resolutions” is amiss; it’s an active evolution not a line-up of dead-end intents and attempts (and eventual surrenderings).
In light of this, I’m looking at last year’s resolutions to see what I can take from them, regardless of their ‘status’ or ‘expiry.’
(Of course there are 10.)
1. Travel to 5 new places. I realize now you can see new places every day without going anywhere. Really. (For example, even after 20 years of living there, I saw Vancouver for the first time this year in many ways.)
2. Get more of my work published. I realized all I really wanted was to write freely, maybe move someone with my words - even if it was just me.
3. Move to a new city to bring visible changes in my life. I realize now it wasn’t so much about learning to adapt to a new place as it was about seeing what parts of me wouldn’t change.
4. Keep running to stay healthy and fit. I’ve learned that fitness is not an end in and of itself, but rather a byproduct of and catalyst for emotional wellbeing. Excercise helps me stabilize my thoughts and emotions and I’m getting better at making the sound decision to exercise even when I’m not feeling mentally and/or physically up for it, which is a challenge.
5. Keep a gratitude journal - and I did. But I learned that showing gratitude is more essential.
6. Take professional development courses. I learned that you need to apply new knowledge to actually learn it though. One way I did this, when lacking the option at work, was by teaching it to others.
7. Save $7,000. This as an arbitrary number, but as far as arbitrary savings goals are concerned, any number is better than zero. You never know when you may need to cash in; what important time it’ll buy you later; what act of desperation it’ll quell, what peace it will give you (unfortunately, but realistically) that will help you make the better decision.
8. Read a minimum of 12 books. In the last six months, I’ve read only half of two. And these have made more difference than a fat pile of top 100 listers. (Infinite Jest, A Guide to the Good Life)
9. Get closer and more deeply connected to my parents and my closest friends. In the process, I made friends out of my parents, I fell in love with a friend, and I certain friends became like family.
10. Do something out of my comfort zone. I chose bellydancing, which culminated in a performance in front of 350 people. Suffice to say, trying something out of your comfort zone doesn’t bring it into your comfort zone. It just makes you see how well you handle discomfort.
For the first time, my new years resolutions aren’t top-of-mind or clear to me. Perhaps it’s because the plates have shifted so much below my state of being with this move to London that everything feels like a new habit to be formed. I am reconfiguring a lot of myself this year…so in a year’s time, all I ask of myself is that I do this mindfully, gently, thoughtfully. That’s all; and it’s a whole lot.
December 8, 2015
vantage (n.)
[Originally written for Life.Actually]
It’s officially been one whole month since I left Vancouver and though I’ve been reflecting a lot, I thought it was about time I reflected more constructively on what I’ve learned since I arrived - about myself, what I want out of this move, and out of life in general. Funnily enough, today I went up to Sky Garden on Fenchurch Street and by getting a new vantage point of the City of London, it also got me thinking about my own perspectives on things since I’ve arrived here.
I always told myself that the success of this journey of mine didn’t really depend on “success” - that even failure would be a learning that would uncover something beneficial, even essential. So far, I am still unemployed (no surprise there though), though I’ve done quite a bit of work already - on myself.
Here’s what I’ve been working through over the last few weeks. (The first week was a bit of a shock to the system and my primary realization was that I cope pretty well with change….so long as I remember to slow down - slow down long enough to process and write (and get enough sleep)).
1. Life is work. And a work of art. Balancing life and work is really about integrating them rather than separating them. Even if we slice up our days and still call it “work-life balance,” in the long run, they are one. It takes effort to live fully, and well, and to play; but in the end, the quality of our time here is a consequence of how hard we worked to live a good life (read that in any way you wish).
2. My extroverted tendency is very ambivalent. I’ve enjoyed investigating my desire for privacy versus my need to recharge from being around others (and who those others are plays a huge part, too). I am much more mindful of my time, and when I share it with others I’ve found I’m focusing more on moments rather than seeing “the relationship” as a function of accrued time. This is likely because I’m meeting all sorts of people with whom I haven’t had lots of time to accrue in the first place. I’m realizing in many ways this is how deeper, more meaningful - not necessarily long-term (and that’s okay) - relationships form: with moments, rather than repeated time together. This wasn’t as obvious before as it’s been a long time since I’ve had to put in such efforts to make new friends. I’ve been much more mindful of each experience as these are more prominent than the “history” I have with each person here (which in most cases is non-existent).
I’d like to apply this lens, of having relationships more moment/experience-oriented, with new and existing friendships more. The people I miss most from home - and from the past and in my life in general - are those with whom certain deep, experiential moments of growth stand out. Some moments require an investment of time, of course. It’s about striking a balance between these two outlooks; and it begins, I think, with a certain self-awareness - and one that can only come with spending quality time with yourself so that you can become more mindful of your time spent with other people.
3. Tapping into melancholy makes me feel very alive. And creative. (This can be dangerous.)
4. I’m all about discovering joy. Being here new to the city with somewhat erratic connections to people and places, I’ve had the incredible opportunity to explore all sorts of lifestyles, cultures, groups, events, interests, and activities. I’ve enjoyed most of it in a very sincere way and it’s made me learn that I’m a bit of a social chameleon (though not in the way that makes me inauthentic.) I just tend to be able to derive quite a lot of deep joy from a very diverse set of people and experiences. Sometimes this makes me feel like I’ve lost myself or that I’m not sure of my identity - which may explain #2 and (particularly) #3. But in the end, it’s about finding joy and I’m happy to be defined by that.
5. Structure is important - ideal when voluntary. I gravitate towards stability and routine, and I like to plan. I love to be spontaneous within (ideally, my chosen) structure. I cannot live without the feeling of home, and this comes from the experience of safety, which ultimately comes from the experience of familiarity, patterns, and knowns.
6. Life is an existential compromise. The sooner you realize this the more choice you’ll have in what those compromises are. (I won’t get into this one tonight…)
7. Feedback is key. I took some career personality assessments as part of a PD course I’m taking through UBC and learned that I feel most motivated at work when: I see that what I’m doing has impact on others. A common way to see the impact we make is through feedback.
I also learned that I prefer to not have to ask for feedback. In my opinion, feedback is a sign of respect - from giving the mellowest nod of approval or thanks, to constructive criticism, suggestions, or full-fledged credit and large thank you’s. Next time you see someone ask you for money on the street, say something; it needn’t be a yes. Next time your colleague helps you with a project, give them credit. Go beyond just feeling gratitude for your loved ones; show them thanks.
8. Running has saved me. It pushes me forward to see new places and spaces outside and within myself. Exercise in general, I think, just lets my thoughts and emotions move through me in a healthy way and get better figured out. And if not figured out, at the very least, it lightens me up: It makes me move or realize I am always moving, dynamic, alive - even (and especially) at times when I feel stagnated, still, lazy, stuck.
9. Technology is both a blessing and a curse. For instance, I’m trying to rely on it less when navigating the city; it’s much easier to keep my eyes open for signage, use my brain to remember landmarks, or ask a person quickly for directions than it is to blindly follow my CityMapper arrow, spinning around in circles till I find North. However, it connects me to home and allows me to catch up with my loved ones. Sometimes I feel I’m straddling between two worlds, and so I apologize to many of you with whom I don’t talk as much as I should - It’s hard and taxing at times to relay every single thing that’s going on here with me especially as there is so much, I am 8 hours ahead, and it becomes redundant, vapid and monologue-y; but know you all come into my thoughts as I’m undoubtedly experiencing my life here by way of comparison (not in a bad diminutive way, just through retrospect). You’re all here in one way or another, and it need not be by way of technology.
10. Cooking is very therapeutic. You can make a home just by fixing yourself a plate of nutritious delicious food (even if at times it’s just toasted crumpets with Devonshire cream and plum jam).
With all this ruminating and writing, which I’m so glad I’ve been able to dedicate more time to while here, I’ve been sort of building these little lessons in my head. For now, it’s to help me feel on track, as I gather information about my life. I also imagine I’ll be revisiting this again to see if and how my impressions change after I spend more time here. But regardless of where things go, I already feel this move has been worth it.
Started on the Overground from Islington Dec 7. Completed on the Bakerloo from Charing Cross, Dec 8, 11:54pm.
It’s officially been one whole month since I left Vancouver and though I’ve been reflecting a lot, I thought it was about time I reflected more constructively on what I’ve learned since I arrived - about myself, what I want out of this move, and out of life in general. Funnily enough, today I went up to Sky Garden on Fenchurch Street and by getting a new vantage point of the City of London, it also got me thinking about my own perspectives on things since I’ve arrived here.
vantage (n.) early 14c., “advantage, profit,” from Old French avantage “advantage” (from avant “before,” probably via Latin abante, “advance”). Vantage point “favorable position” attested from 1865.
I always told myself that the success of this journey of mine didn’t really depend on “success” - that even failure would be a learning that would uncover something beneficial, even essential. So far, I am still unemployed (no surprise there though), though I’ve done quite a bit of work already - on myself.
Here’s what I’ve been working through over the last few weeks. (The first week was a bit of a shock to the system and my primary realization was that I cope pretty well with change….so long as I remember to slow down - slow down long enough to process and write (and get enough sleep)).
1. Life is work. And a work of art. Balancing life and work is really about integrating them rather than separating them. Even if we slice up our days and still call it “work-life balance,” in the long run, they are one. It takes effort to live fully, and well, and to play; but in the end, the quality of our time here is a consequence of how hard we worked to live a good life (read that in any way you wish).
2. My extroverted tendency is very ambivalent. I’ve enjoyed investigating my desire for privacy versus my need to recharge from being around others (and who those others are plays a huge part, too). I am much more mindful of my time, and when I share it with others I’ve found I’m focusing more on moments rather than seeing “the relationship” as a function of accrued time. This is likely because I’m meeting all sorts of people with whom I haven’t had lots of time to accrue in the first place. I’m realizing in many ways this is how deeper, more meaningful - not necessarily long-term (and that’s okay) - relationships form: with moments, rather than repeated time together. This wasn’t as obvious before as it’s been a long time since I’ve had to put in such efforts to make new friends. I’ve been much more mindful of each experience as these are more prominent than the “history” I have with each person here (which in most cases is non-existent).
I’d like to apply this lens, of having relationships more moment/experience-oriented, with new and existing friendships more. The people I miss most from home - and from the past and in my life in general - are those with whom certain deep, experiential moments of growth stand out. Some moments require an investment of time, of course. It’s about striking a balance between these two outlooks; and it begins, I think, with a certain self-awareness - and one that can only come with spending quality time with yourself so that you can become more mindful of your time spent with other people.
3. Tapping into melancholy makes me feel very alive. And creative. (This can be dangerous.)
4. I’m all about discovering joy. Being here new to the city with somewhat erratic connections to people and places, I’ve had the incredible opportunity to explore all sorts of lifestyles, cultures, groups, events, interests, and activities. I’ve enjoyed most of it in a very sincere way and it’s made me learn that I’m a bit of a social chameleon (though not in the way that makes me inauthentic.) I just tend to be able to derive quite a lot of deep joy from a very diverse set of people and experiences. Sometimes this makes me feel like I’ve lost myself or that I’m not sure of my identity - which may explain #2 and (particularly) #3. But in the end, it’s about finding joy and I’m happy to be defined by that.
5. Structure is important - ideal when voluntary. I gravitate towards stability and routine, and I like to plan. I love to be spontaneous within (ideally, my chosen) structure. I cannot live without the feeling of home, and this comes from the experience of safety, which ultimately comes from the experience of familiarity, patterns, and knowns.
6. Life is an existential compromise. The sooner you realize this the more choice you’ll have in what those compromises are. (I won’t get into this one tonight…)
7. Feedback is key. I took some career personality assessments as part of a PD course I’m taking through UBC and learned that I feel most motivated at work when: I see that what I’m doing has impact on others. A common way to see the impact we make is through feedback.
I also learned that I prefer to not have to ask for feedback. In my opinion, feedback is a sign of respect - from giving the mellowest nod of approval or thanks, to constructive criticism, suggestions, or full-fledged credit and large thank you’s. Next time you see someone ask you for money on the street, say something; it needn’t be a yes. Next time your colleague helps you with a project, give them credit. Go beyond just feeling gratitude for your loved ones; show them thanks.
8. Running has saved me. It pushes me forward to see new places and spaces outside and within myself. Exercise in general, I think, just lets my thoughts and emotions move through me in a healthy way and get better figured out. And if not figured out, at the very least, it lightens me up: It makes me move or realize I am always moving, dynamic, alive - even (and especially) at times when I feel stagnated, still, lazy, stuck.
9. Technology is both a blessing and a curse. For instance, I’m trying to rely on it less when navigating the city; it’s much easier to keep my eyes open for signage, use my brain to remember landmarks, or ask a person quickly for directions than it is to blindly follow my CityMapper arrow, spinning around in circles till I find North. However, it connects me to home and allows me to catch up with my loved ones. Sometimes I feel I’m straddling between two worlds, and so I apologize to many of you with whom I don’t talk as much as I should - It’s hard and taxing at times to relay every single thing that’s going on here with me especially as there is so much, I am 8 hours ahead, and it becomes redundant, vapid and monologue-y; but know you all come into my thoughts as I’m undoubtedly experiencing my life here by way of comparison (not in a bad diminutive way, just through retrospect). You’re all here in one way or another, and it need not be by way of technology.
10. Cooking is very therapeutic. You can make a home just by fixing yourself a plate of nutritious delicious food (even if at times it’s just toasted crumpets with Devonshire cream and plum jam).
With all this ruminating and writing, which I’m so glad I’ve been able to dedicate more time to while here, I’ve been sort of building these little lessons in my head. For now, it’s to help me feel on track, as I gather information about my life. I also imagine I’ll be revisiting this again to see if and how my impressions change after I spend more time here. But regardless of where things go, I already feel this move has been worth it.
Started on the Overground from Islington Dec 7. Completed on the Bakerloo from Charing Cross, Dec 8, 11:54pm.
November 21, 2015
close (adj., v.)
My second week in London moved faster than the first. Some days still felt long, some hours, minutes even - like when I'd get a jolt of homesickness or anxiety over something. But for the most part, it's been steady. I've been thinking though, about what it means to close off and come close as I spend more time with new people - and myself.
Some days, I miss the closeness I had with people. So many new faces, or old faces becoming new as I'm for the first time forming friendships with long-lost family and friends. Some days, I can't wait to get out there and become closer with everyone. At other times, I feel like closing off from everyone because it takes so much energy to get deeper with new people - and time.
Many days I prefer to be by myself. So that I can be with someone I feel very close to. Maybe that sounds weird. But, it's good, I swear.
The weekend comes around and I think about the plans I would have had with my closest friends back home. And then as potential plans start to trickle in, I get excited again and the over-sentimentality passes.
Yesterday, I went to a party at Meryl’s for her flatmate’s birthday. Through the sheer way that connectedness works in the world, the party was packed with Canadians. One of whom approached me in a hallway a few hours into the party while we were all on our way to getting a wee bit sloshed.
She said I looked very familiar, though was sure we hadn’t met. I retrieved her name from my mental rolodex and said “Sophie Busby.” I also was sure we had never met, but I knew her face and name through a mutual friend from Vancouver, her best friend Katy - and an old close friend of mine with whom I had lost contact over the years. Why? Because of a reason that over time has lost it's weight (I still can’t remember what our “big falling out” was about exactly) - maybe, some six years ago now (?) Even after our falling out, I had tried to open up to a second chance when I ran into her (now ex-)boyfriend four years ago. He had told me that she hadn’t tried to get in touch as she thought I was still angry with her, and so I told him “nope!” and that we should give it another shot. I told him to tell her to get in touch with me.
I never heard from her that summer. And so a new-found resentment was formed inside me and I eventually forgot about her.
I relayed this to Sophie last night and today, I got a message from Katy on Facebook. And when I scrolled up, there it was: A long-lost message from June 2011 when she had reached out, buried deep inside Facebook Messenger.
Until she wrote “Vienna” earlier this evening (an autocorrected version of “Vish” perfectly and serendipitously timed with my most recent update that I had booked a flight there), I had missed it. She’s in Ireland now, and we are going to meet - again, and grab that coffee we should have four years ago.
It’s shocking. That it took my moving all the way to London to find a new old friend. We’re planning a visit this December.
Some days, I miss the closeness I had with people. So many new faces, or old faces becoming new as I'm for the first time forming friendships with long-lost family and friends. Some days, I can't wait to get out there and become closer with everyone. At other times, I feel like closing off from everyone because it takes so much energy to get deeper with new people - and time.
Many days I prefer to be by myself. So that I can be with someone I feel very close to. Maybe that sounds weird. But, it's good, I swear.
close (v.) 12c., from Latin clausus, "to shut, close; to block up, make inaccessible; put an end to; shut in, enclose, confine".Possible PIE root *klau- "hook, peg, crooked or forked branch" (see Latin clavis" key," clavus "nail," claustra "dam, wall, barricade." Meaning "draw near to" is from 1520s. Intransitive meaning "draw together, come together" is from 1550s, Meaning "bring together the parts of" (a book, etc.) is from 1560s.
Yesterday, I went to a party at Meryl’s for her flatmate’s birthday. Through the sheer way that connectedness works in the world, the party was packed with Canadians. One of whom approached me in a hallway a few hours into the party while we were all on our way to getting a wee bit sloshed.
She said I looked very familiar, though was sure we hadn’t met. I retrieved her name from my mental rolodex and said “Sophie Busby.” I also was sure we had never met, but I knew her face and name through a mutual friend from Vancouver, her best friend Katy - and an old close friend of mine with whom I had lost contact over the years. Why? Because of a reason that over time has lost it's weight (I still can’t remember what our “big falling out” was about exactly) - maybe, some six years ago now (?) Even after our falling out, I had tried to open up to a second chance when I ran into her (now ex-)boyfriend four years ago. He had told me that she hadn’t tried to get in touch as she thought I was still angry with her, and so I told him “nope!” and that we should give it another shot. I told him to tell her to get in touch with me.
I never heard from her that summer. And so a new-found resentment was formed inside me and I eventually forgot about her.
I relayed this to Sophie last night and today, I got a message from Katy on Facebook. And when I scrolled up, there it was: A long-lost message from June 2011 when she had reached out, buried deep inside Facebook Messenger.
Until she wrote “Vienna” earlier this evening (an autocorrected version of “Vish” perfectly and serendipitously timed with my most recent update that I had booked a flight there), I had missed it. She’s in Ireland now, and we are going to meet - again, and grab that coffee we should have four years ago.
It’s shocking. That it took my moving all the way to London to find a new old friend. We’re planning a visit this December.
close (adj.) 12c, from Old French clos "confined; concealed, secret; taciturn," from Latin clausus "close, reserved." Main sense shifting to "near" (late 15c.) by way of "closing the gap between two things." Meaning "near" in a figurative sense, of persons, from 1560s.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)