On Coming Home From Book Group

Dear Me,

Remember last night, how you cried out of loneliness?  Remember how you left one social function feeling like you really tried to make friends but came away feeling like you hadn't connected with anyone?  Remember how you wondered how you'd ever make friends in this new neighborhood because it's been so long since you've had to start over that you don't remember how to begin?

I think you just needed to go to book group tonight.

There is something wonderful about getting together with other people (especially women) who love books as much as you do.  They're a rare and wonderful breed, them.

Tonight's discussion was on To Kill A Mockingbird, which in and of itself was amazing, but then inevitably turned into discussions of...more.  Remember dreaming of having these kind of deeper conversations with other adults, involving sharing of personal experiences and opinions and finding you have so much in common with people as a result?  Well, your dream woke up, put on pants, and walked all around the kitchen tonight in that circle of eight or ten women.  You could have never imagined walking into there that people would just end up purely and naturally connecting the conversation to their own experiences with losing their temper or the pain of regret or their struggle with perceptions of things.  One neighbor let you hold and put to sleep her newborn baby, and you held her and rocked her for three hours.  (Heaven!)  Another told you something she appreciated about you.  (How did she even notice?)  Another felt the exact same way about the beauty of a certain line from the book.  (Atticus wanting Jem to learn courage from Mrs. Dubose.)

So remember tonight, because if you remember tonight you'll remember that these ladies wouldn't think twice if you initiated a friendship or came to them with a need.  They would welcome a random visit wanting to hold a baby or have a conversation or see another adult face for an hour or two.  You don't have to be alone, and you don't have to be afraid of people not liking the real you when they actually see you.  Because they are just like you -- they just proved it, and walked it around for everyone to see, comfortable in their own skin.  You can be like that, too.  You can let yourself fall open, and you'll be caught up in these arms.

You don't have to be alone.  You're going to be okay.  You gotta go give, and you gotta receive.  But maybe most of all you have to be real and just open up.

Thank heavens for a good book group.