It was easy to make friends when my kids were little. Gregarious and full of life and energy, they made friends with kids in the neighborhood and, as a collateral benefit, I made friends with their parents. Minimum effort, maximum benefit. Life was good.
When my youngest son was sixteen, I rejoined the outside-the-home workforce. The job provided a pool of people to rub shoulders with, and as a result, friendships were born. Again, minimum effort, maximum benefit.
The changing seasons of life have brought new challenges in the area of personal relationships. My adult children have lives of their own and are no longer a link to people my age with whom to make friends. And as sweet as retirement has been, it also has the downside of having erased the camaraderie of work. No more watercooler chatter, after-work meetups for dinner, or locker room banter with the girls.
In short, making true and lasting friendships has become harder. Much harder. Maximum effort, minimum benefit.
As a result, I found myself withdrawing into my safe place where I could be alone while alone VS being alone in a crowd. For me, there is no greater loneliness than being in a group setting, a church service for example, and feeling overwhelmingly disconnected.
Like a pot-bound plant, the flower of my life was withering and my roots were dying for lack of nourishment. My safe place became a self-imposed prison, and I’d stopped growing as a human being. Something had to change. I had to change.
Out of the blue, or so it seemed, (Thank You, God) I got a text from a VERY nice lady I’d met at church months before. She asked if I’d like to meetup with her and two other ladies for dinner. Just a girls’-night-out sort of thing.
As tightly as I’d cocooned myself, it took a bit of effort to say yes, and even more effort to actually show up on the designated night. How utterly happy I am that I went! It was a joyful gathering with lots of laughs, some prayer, and a really good meal to boot. The dinner get-togethers have turned out to be a monthly affair, and I couldn’t be happier about it.
The moral of the story?
Take a chance with people.
Don’t be a pot-bound adult.
6 thoughts on “The Pot-Bound Adult”
What a neat perspective on growing older. I loved it. Friends are the flowers of life. The more you grow, the prettier and more fulfilling your garden of life! 🙂
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great blog Renie. Faithful friends seem harder to come by but they are there for the taking if we only open our eyes and say ‘yes’ 🙂
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I’m kinda there, too. So nice to hear that I can still get involved and have relationships. thanks for your encouraging post!
I suspect a lot of us are in the same boat as we get older. I’m glad this short post encouraged you. Thanks for connecting. Loved hearing from you.
Oh, I like this so much! Perfect picture of how content we can be in our own little pots, to the detriment of ourselves and others. Well said!
Yes, indeed. It’s hard living on a self-imposed island. Glad you enjoyed this little piece.