Much driving have I done in the past 29 hours. Over 6 hours, in fact. At least 5 of which were spent between here and Moodus, CT. It's strange, after all these years without a car, to have one and be spending so much time driving it. For once, I was the ride to a retreat! For once, I drove to visit a friend! For once, I dropped someone off at the train station. My world is a different shape, now.
I've never done such a quick there-and-back-again trip before. Is a simple evening worth a 2.5 hour drive each way? Even without the mist coiling from the lake in the early morning slant-light, yes, it is worthwhile. Even without homemade squash soup, cinnamon raisin mochi, and good water, it is worthwhile. To see a friend, much can be done. Especially when the friend is spending the next month north of Inverness, far away and unseeable.
Each time I (begin to) get more connected with people, I notice my valuation of connection increases. As I reconnect with older friends, and connect with new ones, I find myself both wanting to forge even more new connections and do everything I can to maintain and strengthen the ones I already have. "Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver, the other gold." What am I, who am I, without people to know and be known by?
We are like redwoods. Unless our roots are tangled up with all those around us, the harsh, hard winter winds can force us down, tear us apart. But if our roots are indeed connected, no storm can harm any of us.
On the drive up from Connecticut, my friend and I talked about the nature of friendships, particularly those that are quick and deep and remain just as deep no matter how much time elapses between bouts of communication. These are the friends you can see once a year, and have the most incredible time with, and consider, even after months of silence, a good friend. Of course, these are also the friends with whom you have shared your heart, the ones who have heard your joys and your woes, who are somehow like enough in mind or personality or some inexplicable quality that you just jive with each other. Once you've experienced these friendships, it's awfully difficult to be satisfied with anything else. They set a standard. Can I call you my friend if, after 3 months, we'd struggle to carry on a conversation? I don't think so. An acquaintance perhaps, or something yet unnamed in between acquaintance and friend.
Then there are those people who aren't your friends simply because you've never really had the chance of a good conversation; if you had that conversation, you would be friends. I've got those - or at least I think I do. I don't know if they think the same about me, but there are definitely people that I think I'd love as friends whom I haven't had (or made?) the opportunity to actually get to know. How does one go about cultivating these? "Hey, I had a class with you once, and we never really hung out, but I think we'd be great friends, can we hang out now, several years later?" ummm... I wouldn't be convinced by that unless I had the same inkling, so why would they be convinced? Perhaps I should just give it a try. Or perhaps I should focus on the beginning friendships and maturing friendships I've got right now and not overload myself with interacting with really cool interesting people.
For now, though, I shall curl up with a book for a little while, then sleep. This plan at least I have no questions about.
