2 goodbyes

I was talking to a lady in the audience before my show started one night, and somehow conversation turned to the subject of travel, and what a good thing it is to do if you can do it. I revealed that I had not done much of it myself. I've been as far north as Vancouver BC, as far south as San Diego, as far east as Lake Tahoe, and as far west as, well, the Pacific. She seemed surprised. A man of my age, stuck in his little Northwest box. And in all my 39 years I've moved twice, only to return to the home I grew up in. It's a small world, they say, but smaller for some than for others. And yet, I can't complain about it because I love this world I inhabit and the people with whom I share it.

I am often surprised by the people who I end up calling "friend". Often times, they're not like me at all, and it seems like it would be an oil and water type of thing. But there's different friends for different occasions. One guy I only have lunch with, and if I can do it four times a year I'm lucky, yet I consider him one of my "best" friends. Another guy I only work with creatively, so if I don't have a project, the "friendship" is in limbo, and when I hire him, it's like I'm trying to buy that friendship. Secretly, I just want to hang out with him. Would he call me a friend? I have no idea. Other friends offend me by posting anti-Christian propaganda on Facebook and it grieves me to look at it, but I also can't bear to block them because I like seeing what they're up to. Other friends, I crush on constantly but know I don't have a chance with. Other friends, I can't get involved in my interests, no matter how hard I try. My heart hurts when they don't see my show, but my head knows they're still my friends, and it's stupid to think otherwise.

I always feel like the default setting for most of my relationships with people (at least outside my family) is that I like them a lot more than they like me. So it makes sense that I'm the one who has to call or write. Sometimes it seems like I have to come up with some wild gimmick to get people's attention. "Spend an evening with me, and you could win a new car!" Okay, that's a slightly silly exaggeration but you get my point.

Yet once in a while, a person comes along who has some sort of interest in me, and I have no idea why, I don't know what I offer (it can't be physical), and of course my heart is so grateful I WANT to have a new car to give them, but I don't. Maybe I could write a song for them. But no, I haven't written songs in years. And what's the motive for this desire to give of myself?  Will it ensure the indefinite continuation of the friendship? That doesn't seem likely.

I think the only conclusion that can be reached is that "it is what it is." People have to follow the path that their heart sets for them (unless they're answering to a higher calling) and my place in that path is just whatever it happens to be, no more, no less. But if they've touched my life is some meaningful (sometimes unexpected) way, I hope that I've done the same for them. Some kind of imprint.