I think I had almost given up on people. Recently I have been struck by the general busyness of my life and those around me. One of the things that seem to suffer when we are busy is conversation. We talk about the rain, the football (well, I don’t but others do) or our kid. But we rarely share our lives, tell our stories to each other, reveal what is really on our hearts.
As I look at a friend or acquaintance I could wonder where their sad eyes come from, or I could ask them. And dare I say it, share my own sadness. Imagine us all in a room together, holding our sadness, tears, hopes, dreams, joys in bags – our emotional baggage that we don’t talk about. I wonder what bag would be weighing you down right now?
So if I told you that I recently had dinner with a group of people and we talked philosophy and ideas; we told each other about our life when we were 21 years old; we lamented change; we laughed and we shared extreme parenting moments would you be surprised? We started talking, conversing….it was the start of something. And it has given me hope that conversation is alive. But I have to work at it. Are you with me?