I can’t tell if it’s aging or the pandemic, but my relationships with my friends have changed over the last few years. I’m looking for mindfulness and reciprocity. What about you? Are you more deeply engaged with fewer people? Are you open to people you didn’t know that well before?
Copies of my 2019 essay collection, Twilight Time: Aging in Amazement, are available directly from me (signed) or from Amazon or your local bookseller.
Susie, we moved to 55+ community in Maine in June 2021, so in my case meeting new people is warranted. This community is designed to bring people together, there is a community center with lots of activities to join, I learned to play Mahjong, bocce, and pickleball this year. And I have found it interesting to meet people in the 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s having never known them as their younger selves. While this isn’t the first time I’ve made friends later in life, I lived in the Berkshire’s from 2015-2021, so most of the friends I made were in there were in their 60’s and 70’s and that was new for me. Before the Berkshire’s we lived in DC for 10 years and most of the close friends I made there were 20 years younger than we were.
But here in our new community everyone is old and it takes a little getting used to, and Covid has made that process all the more difficult. But we are getting to know people slowly but surely. And there are so many interesting people here, it’s just takes time to establish a real friendship, but I hope to live here for many years and I know I will find my friends, it’s already starting… I do find that as I age I don’t need as many friends, just a few good ones. Luckily in September a new neighbor moved across the street, she’s 6 years younger, never married, but we still have lots of things in common. So one good friend in 8 months, not bad and enough for now!
Susie, hi. I hope you'll think this poem appropriate, as it concerns engagement with friends--and my reason for withdrawing this year. (the Hebrew word sh'mita,as I imagine you know, means the 7th year, a year when fields in Biblical times were to be given a rest to reinvigorate themselves.)
NOT THIS YEAR
Lately, I don’t want to be around people-- -
be they dear friends or harmless, easy acquaintances.
For I am cultivating my aloneness.
In bed, early, I stare unblinking at night’s heavy gloom,
and I brood:
Where did it all go?
Why can’t I remember?
What have I accomplished?
How will I be remembered?
Perhaps aloneness is my sh’mita ground, fallow this seventh year,
empty again after six of rambling exertions.
A fertile ground of welcome stillness where nameless seeds fall,
shaken loose at last from my nascent awareness,
evolving into seedlings I hope to give a name to by year’s end.
I also feel like I'm cultivating my aloneness, but also that when I occasionally have a deep encounter it fills me with deep waves of joy. There's no middle ground, no lightweight sociability. A kind of blessing.
I'm happily reconnecting to many old friends through zoom chats, which have really opened things up for me. A good bonus from the pandemic isolation - strangely there is less distance!
"Mindfulness and reciprocity" - yes! Especially the latter. I moved during the pandemic and have been blessed with a few new budding friendships that feel deep. I've noticed some of my long- distance friendships are changing too - I am one to stay in touch other than on social media - and it's time to let go what doesn't bloom anymore. Some still do, some don't.
yes to all the comments. But I sometimes worry if I am being too anticipatory about aging and dying. Worrying too prematurely. Isolating a little too much. In short, I am conflicted about this process of winding down. Since we are still here----at least for the time being.
I have some of those concerns, too, because I'm inclined to a contemplative life so slowing down and noticing is native to me. Being aware of aging needn't be the same as worrying. I try to think of it as being an observer of a new landscape. And I want to be observing in the company of other people who are willing to look deeply at experience.
Hi Susie, My Cancer has metastasized to a new area. I’m just putting that right out instead of being vague. This is a big change, of course. I have been feeling great until this week when I had a reaction to medication. Lots happening very quickly. Lots of tests! But also, I am active again in a co- counseling group. Because of this I happily have more supportive allies in my life. I do live alone though and can have moments of feeling that aloneness. But I do reach out and usually someone reaches back!
I didn't know you were dealing with a cancer diagnosis, Tara. That reaching out thing can be scary but it is the road to redemption and people do want to be included. Often they don't know how to help, but that's not for lack of wanting.
My birthday is coming up and while I was considering the limited possibilities it was clear that my friendship group is much smaller because we're at a time in our lives when we're leaving this realm. Seems if you haven't left, you're packing...sorting through the stuff...giving things away, signing legal documents to make it slightly easier for the ones you're leaving behind.
I've been an instigator, cranking up community events, hosting gigantic all women parties. I enjoy getting us all going, but it's no longer possible and I miss it. So instead of renting a theater and putting on a show, or planning a trip to Spain or Palm Springs with 10 of my closest friends...I'm pondering the actual possibilities for marking this rather significant (to me) milestone. My local group, the women I talk with, the women I've been hanging with for years has now dwindled down to six. It's weird. Of course, we all miss our dead friends but it's strange to be missing the living.
Attrition is a real thing and so is the awareness of attrition. We impose such strictures on ourselves...not thinking we should notice aging and loss. Notice! I love "Seems if you haven't left, you're packing...." We're also packing up little atomizers of love and longing.
I've always been an introvert with few "real" friends, i.e. one's with whom I can have deep discussions and be completely myself. Since Covid, I'm even more reluctant to venture out or meet new people. I think I need to have a serious talk with myself. I hear isolation isn't good for humans.
Sometimes I find that appreciating interactions that feel less freighted is helpful. In other words, if the librarian in town is really present to me and wants to talk to me about books, I consider that a meaningful connection whether or not I've known her for decades and whether or not the interaction happens again in the coming months.
Susie, we moved to 55+ community in Maine in June 2021, so in my case meeting new people is warranted. This community is designed to bring people together, there is a community center with lots of activities to join, I learned to play Mahjong, bocce, and pickleball this year. And I have found it interesting to meet people in the 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s having never known them as their younger selves. While this isn’t the first time I’ve made friends later in life, I lived in the Berkshire’s from 2015-2021, so most of the friends I made were in there were in their 60’s and 70’s and that was new for me. Before the Berkshire’s we lived in DC for 10 years and most of the close friends I made there were 20 years younger than we were.
But here in our new community everyone is old and it takes a little getting used to, and Covid has made that process all the more difficult. But we are getting to know people slowly but surely. And there are so many interesting people here, it’s just takes time to establish a real friendship, but I hope to live here for many years and I know I will find my friends, it’s already starting… I do find that as I age I don’t need as many friends, just a few good ones. Luckily in September a new neighbor moved across the street, she’s 6 years younger, never married, but we still have lots of things in common. So one good friend in 8 months, not bad and enough for now!
I agree that it's all about quality in relationships, not quantity. Sounds like you're very gregarious.
I am definitely an extrovert, sorry we didn’t meet while I was in the Berkshire’s, I think we would have been friends.
Susie, hi. I hope you'll think this poem appropriate, as it concerns engagement with friends--and my reason for withdrawing this year. (the Hebrew word sh'mita,as I imagine you know, means the 7th year, a year when fields in Biblical times were to be given a rest to reinvigorate themselves.)
NOT THIS YEAR
Lately, I don’t want to be around people-- -
be they dear friends or harmless, easy acquaintances.
For I am cultivating my aloneness.
In bed, early, I stare unblinking at night’s heavy gloom,
and I brood:
Where did it all go?
Why can’t I remember?
What have I accomplished?
How will I be remembered?
Perhaps aloneness is my sh’mita ground, fallow this seventh year,
empty again after six of rambling exertions.
A fertile ground of welcome stillness where nameless seeds fall,
shaken loose at last from my nascent awareness,
evolving into seedlings I hope to give a name to by year’s end.
I also feel like I'm cultivating my aloneness, but also that when I occasionally have a deep encounter it fills me with deep waves of joy. There's no middle ground, no lightweight sociability. A kind of blessing.
Yes, there is that, too. Just less room for small talk, monkey chatter.
I'm happily reconnecting to many old friends through zoom chats, which have really opened things up for me. A good bonus from the pandemic isolation - strangely there is less distance!
I admire your gregariousness. I still long for lunch.
"Mindfulness and reciprocity" - yes! Especially the latter. I moved during the pandemic and have been blessed with a few new budding friendships that feel deep. I've noticed some of my long- distance friendships are changing too - I am one to stay in touch other than on social media - and it's time to let go what doesn't bloom anymore. Some still do, some don't.
I can see where you feel blessed but I also think a person has to be open-hearted about intimacy. I can feel you being that kind of friend.
yes to all the comments. But I sometimes worry if I am being too anticipatory about aging and dying. Worrying too prematurely. Isolating a little too much. In short, I am conflicted about this process of winding down. Since we are still here----at least for the time being.
I have some of those concerns, too, because I'm inclined to a contemplative life so slowing down and noticing is native to me. Being aware of aging needn't be the same as worrying. I try to think of it as being an observer of a new landscape. And I want to be observing in the company of other people who are willing to look deeply at experience.
sometimes it feels like a thin line between worrying and being over attentive to---- if you get my drift.
Hi Susie, My Cancer has metastasized to a new area. I’m just putting that right out instead of being vague. This is a big change, of course. I have been feeling great until this week when I had a reaction to medication. Lots happening very quickly. Lots of tests! But also, I am active again in a co- counseling group. Because of this I happily have more supportive allies in my life. I do live alone though and can have moments of feeling that aloneness. But I do reach out and usually someone reaches back!
I didn't know you were dealing with a cancer diagnosis, Tara. That reaching out thing can be scary but it is the road to redemption and people do want to be included. Often they don't know how to help, but that's not for lack of wanting.
My birthday is coming up and while I was considering the limited possibilities it was clear that my friendship group is much smaller because we're at a time in our lives when we're leaving this realm. Seems if you haven't left, you're packing...sorting through the stuff...giving things away, signing legal documents to make it slightly easier for the ones you're leaving behind.
I've been an instigator, cranking up community events, hosting gigantic all women parties. I enjoy getting us all going, but it's no longer possible and I miss it. So instead of renting a theater and putting on a show, or planning a trip to Spain or Palm Springs with 10 of my closest friends...I'm pondering the actual possibilities for marking this rather significant (to me) milestone. My local group, the women I talk with, the women I've been hanging with for years has now dwindled down to six. It's weird. Of course, we all miss our dead friends but it's strange to be missing the living.
Attrition is a real thing and so is the awareness of attrition. We impose such strictures on ourselves...not thinking we should notice aging and loss. Notice! I love "Seems if you haven't left, you're packing...." We're also packing up little atomizers of love and longing.
I've always been an introvert with few "real" friends, i.e. one's with whom I can have deep discussions and be completely myself. Since Covid, I'm even more reluctant to venture out or meet new people. I think I need to have a serious talk with myself. I hear isolation isn't good for humans.
Sometimes I find that appreciating interactions that feel less freighted is helpful. In other words, if the librarian in town is really present to me and wants to talk to me about books, I consider that a meaningful connection whether or not I've known her for decades and whether or not the interaction happens again in the coming months.