Spring Maiden Moon
New thoughts about old problems. My mind spins all day long, doesn’t stop at night. When I wake up, it’s not always monkey mind. Sometimes it’s just the one that wonders about reimagining faith, about what to do next in Jennie’s Dead or Superior Wolf, about the peculiar nature of this year’s primary season, about the nature of reality and life. Seems natural when I think about it this way, an extension into the night by what occupies me during the day. Of course, I still need sleep. But I get it in chunks rather than in a smooth 8 hours.
The friend problem. New information about friendship suggests that those of us who work on our own, on projects that matter to us-a lot-and especially those of us who work on creative or intellectual projects are happiest seeing friends occasionally. Most folks it seems are happiest when they see their friends often. I’ve always struggled with this idea, that I should have more friends, get out more, do more things with other people, but I’ve always gravitated to the quiet, the alone, the private.
In part this is because I am an introvert and I need private, quiet time to recharge and, conversely, find time with others enjoyable, but draining, not energizing. But, I’m also an introvert who has had, for as long as I can recall, various projects important to my own journey. Sometimes it was reading certain authors, other times researching topics like the Midwest, climate change, the Renaissance, the Enlightenment, Modernism, art history. More recently, the last 25 years or so, I’ve had specific creative projects: novels, essays, presentations for UU churches and two nonfiction works. The first non-fiction project, which is still in me, somewhere, was an ecological history of Lake Superior. The second, Reimagining Faith, remains active.
In retrospect I can see that the Woollies and the docents met my needs almost perfectly. I got to know others-in the case of the Woollies, deeply, and in the case of the docents, well. In both instances there were regular times for meeting, first and third Mondays with the Woollies plus an annual retreat and in the case of the docents, my touring day. Having these regular opportunities were just right for me.
Now that I’m here in Colorado, though I don’t have those regular opportunities, I still have the relationships, the friendships, from those times. So I need to make opportunities to nurture those relationships. And I have been doing that.
What I’m trying to say here is that I no longer feel less than because I’m not seeking new friends here. As I said yesterday, I imagine I’ll find some, at some point. But the bigger point is that I feel fine, happy, content as I am, at work and engaged with Kate, the dogs, family and those fine friends still in Minnesota.
It’s Sunday. We’ll head out in a bit for our business meeting, going somewhere nearby for breakfast. This is a routine, weekly. These meetings where we discuss money matters, calendar, upcoming projects, how we’re doing are an important part of our marriage. They prevent issues that could divide us or surprise us from sneaking into our lives. In a sense they’re the board meeting for our marriage in its quasi-corporate aspect, but more than that they are a commitment to open discussion, to mutual decision making, to the sort of hard headed pragmatism I believe many people around the world see in American culture. Thanks to Ruth Hayden.
