I caught a bus out to Poulsbo yesterday to meet one of my favorite colleagues for a business meeting. The meeting, which was with the owner of a major theater chain here in the Kitsap, went well. We all came away from it with a sense of accomplishment, which helped to put a grand shine on the rest of the day. We took that shine down the street to Pegasus coffee, then across town to a small, quaint and overpriced second hand. I found a Colorado cookbook there, but it was nothing you could live without so I left it behind. All the same you were suddenly in the moment.
That's nothing new, having you be in the moment. You were present throughout the morning, not the star attraction, but a visable presence that managed to weave her way in and out of our conversations. A good thing, I suppose, but also a reminder that things have passed, that life has moved on. You are a placesetter in my life, but my life is still being lived and that was where an awful lot of the laughter in the conversation came from.
But in the midst of all that conversation, in all that talk about life and love and friendships, one thing was pointed out to me, something that I didn't quite think about before but was really apparent to me afterwards. It was that we were companions. What a revelation.
Sure, it's been no secret that I've done my best to replace you, but I have to tell you that I also come to realize that that's exactly what I didn't need to be doing. There was no replacing you, M. It was unfair to everybody. So I've decided to stop and think for awhile, find some sense of center again, really look into myself and see what it is that I really need. I need to see what all the flailing I've been doing over the last few years has gotten me.
As my colleague pointed out, this new found abstinence of mine is only a week old. Who knows who will drift into the net of my life next week? But more than that it was made clear to me that over the past few years I've been trying to find someone to share the same level of companionship with me that we shared. I've been looking hard for that same combo we had, for we shared a lot of life together and it felt pretty damn good. Who ever truly wants to give up something that feels as good as what we had?
So, in search of that illusive companionship I pressed some willing gals into service, but they all managed to flunk the course, the course standards being much too high, higher than they ever knew, much higher than they ever should have been. By setting the bar so high I never could find that magic combination again, the one that we kicked around so effortlessly. Was it that we never really "tried", we just were? Why has it been so hard to find a writer who cooks, runs a tight ship at home, reads voraciously, walks regularly, laughs with abandon and loves freely? Why has it been hard to hammer down that small but very important element, that who ever come through my life must be my friend first?
So I looked and looked and found that in all that looking I just managed to make my life interesting, but interesting at this point almost sounds like a curse. I would rather have something else. And for now that's a rest from the meaninglessness of the chase.
No one, buddy, can replace the thrill that was us. That's something I need to understand. That's what this break is for. To evaluate what we were, see what it was that was important to us, to find out why it felt so good, and to understand that what we had was special but that it is all wrapped up. Companionship comes in many colors. I suppose I need to reevalutate the color spectrum of my life once again and find out what truly constitutes companionship in my eyes.
Yeah, M, companionship comes in many colors. It's not just about making meals and sharing coffee or watching movies, it's all so much more. Yesterday, tripping about with my friend I understood that. That it's a deeper, richer thing, something that goes along with the ups and downs of life, that deals well with both misunderstandings and triumphs, that easily handles both disagreements and mutual joy knowing both are there in life to help keep things in balance. We were a balancing act, M, a sort of Wallendas of the library world, which was the hallmark of our friendship. My colleague, my pal, my friend helped to point that out to me yesterday.
Yes, M, we were companions. Mighty damn fine ones, we were.
Miss that, miss you, my high wire friend. But as an old coworker of ours likes to say, "Onward and upward." Here we go again, back out onto the wire....
Your WHMB
That's nothing new, having you be in the moment. You were present throughout the morning, not the star attraction, but a visable presence that managed to weave her way in and out of our conversations. A good thing, I suppose, but also a reminder that things have passed, that life has moved on. You are a placesetter in my life, but my life is still being lived and that was where an awful lot of the laughter in the conversation came from.
But in the midst of all that conversation, in all that talk about life and love and friendships, one thing was pointed out to me, something that I didn't quite think about before but was really apparent to me afterwards. It was that we were companions. What a revelation.
Sure, it's been no secret that I've done my best to replace you, but I have to tell you that I also come to realize that that's exactly what I didn't need to be doing. There was no replacing you, M. It was unfair to everybody. So I've decided to stop and think for awhile, find some sense of center again, really look into myself and see what it is that I really need. I need to see what all the flailing I've been doing over the last few years has gotten me.
As my colleague pointed out, this new found abstinence of mine is only a week old. Who knows who will drift into the net of my life next week? But more than that it was made clear to me that over the past few years I've been trying to find someone to share the same level of companionship with me that we shared. I've been looking hard for that same combo we had, for we shared a lot of life together and it felt pretty damn good. Who ever truly wants to give up something that feels as good as what we had?
So, in search of that illusive companionship I pressed some willing gals into service, but they all managed to flunk the course, the course standards being much too high, higher than they ever knew, much higher than they ever should have been. By setting the bar so high I never could find that magic combination again, the one that we kicked around so effortlessly. Was it that we never really "tried", we just were? Why has it been so hard to find a writer who cooks, runs a tight ship at home, reads voraciously, walks regularly, laughs with abandon and loves freely? Why has it been hard to hammer down that small but very important element, that who ever come through my life must be my friend first?
So I looked and looked and found that in all that looking I just managed to make my life interesting, but interesting at this point almost sounds like a curse. I would rather have something else. And for now that's a rest from the meaninglessness of the chase.
No one, buddy, can replace the thrill that was us. That's something I need to understand. That's what this break is for. To evaluate what we were, see what it was that was important to us, to find out why it felt so good, and to understand that what we had was special but that it is all wrapped up. Companionship comes in many colors. I suppose I need to reevalutate the color spectrum of my life once again and find out what truly constitutes companionship in my eyes.
Yeah, M, companionship comes in many colors. It's not just about making meals and sharing coffee or watching movies, it's all so much more. Yesterday, tripping about with my friend I understood that. That it's a deeper, richer thing, something that goes along with the ups and downs of life, that deals well with both misunderstandings and triumphs, that easily handles both disagreements and mutual joy knowing both are there in life to help keep things in balance. We were a balancing act, M, a sort of Wallendas of the library world, which was the hallmark of our friendship. My colleague, my pal, my friend helped to point that out to me yesterday.
Yes, M, we were companions. Mighty damn fine ones, we were.
Miss that, miss you, my high wire friend. But as an old coworker of ours likes to say, "Onward and upward." Here we go again, back out onto the wire....
Your WHMB
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