I pushed the thought out of my head as quickly as it had entered. But the lie had already been expressed: None of it mattered.
Through the airplane’s windows I could see faces — the smiles of the friends I had come to cherish over the course of a few months. I couldn’t have survived my summer in Seattle without them. I was ready to move on, but felt so wrong for having been only a momentary blip in my new friend’s lives.
I felt so insignificant. So ungrounded.
In high school, many of us had consistent friend groups: people we played sports, went to church, ate lunch, or hung out with on a regular basis. On any given day, we’d be reconnected with these relationships. Our whole world could fit within the county lines of our town.
Some stay within those county lines. Then there are those who venture out into the world, where, even though there are plenty of people around, it can become a pretty lonely and fruitless place. There is a sense of uprootedness experienced in this.
So what do we do when we feel like a wandering soul? And how are new friends made in the first place?
Regardless of the amount of time spent with a certain person, friendships matter. None of us could get by without them. The people we come in contact with are inarguably irreplaceable, unique, and deserving of our full attention. But friendship is a process. Relationships are not instantaneous — they are lifelong and involve active engagement.
Sunday marks week two of my Minneapolis affair. It’s taken a bit of time, but, instead of just passing through this part of my life, I’m trying to see each new friendship as a valued opportunity to learn more about the world and my place in it. What I’ve found is that the more people I meet and talk to, the more beautiful and big life gets. Read More