Being around people again
It’s been a while, it turns out, since I’ve really been around people, at least in the way where I have real conversations with them.
Last night, I met up at The Pub (yes, the place is called The Pub as if it were an oasis of pub-ness in the middle of uncivilized America) with a friend who’s been out of town for a while. I didn’t realize I was his friend until I was invited to the meetup; he was a former student at the college whose life touched mine tangentially, and we mostly connected over Facebook.
There were six of us, and there was a lot of catching up, and a certain amount of talking about Big Audacious Goals. And we had them, and some of us had fulfilled some, and we sounded hopeful, which is rare in these days.
A whisp of memory
Conversing with the group felt like a fond memory of a group of people I used to hang out with in my college days. We referred to the group as “Saturday Night Group” (which, oddly, sounds like calling a pub “The Pub”). We were a group that watched Star Trek, hung out, and sometimes talked about serious things.
I learned who I really was in that group. I was a bit of a misfit that pined for unavailable men and wandered aimlessly before then, and that group pulled out of me the person I am today — all the mischief, all the depth, all the dreams. I thought I had lost that as part of “growing up”.
Now, however, I know it’s possible, and I will have to put myself forward with people to see if I can find that again. Time to quit hibernating.