Play Bids As Old People, Or, Saturday Morning at 10:06am

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m working on building a new little community, following the deaths of my mother, my long-distance best friend, and my father. This involves making an effort. To get to know people you have to meet them, and to meet them you have to find them, and to find them you often have to go somewhere, but so far so good. I like people.

The only hard part is what we used to call, when I was a young mother, “play bids.” That moment sharing an activity with others when you have to find some way to indicate you’d be open to hanging out. I haven’t had a lot of practice. I never dated much, and back when boys did the asking. The last time I grew a new community was when my children were young, and mother’s groups and school functions pretty much did it for me.

I’m practicing now. And the point of practicing, on top of getting to a goal, is to learn. Here’s my insight: at the ripe very-late-middle-age of 67 going on 68 I have realized that people don’t usually want my advice. Brilliant, right?

No shade on the caliber of that advice. It’s decent. Only that I’ve realized if I like someone I often lead with, “Can I help you solve your problem? That thing that you don’t even know is a problem?” Which is very Sturdy Gal, being of service, but not per se the most fruitful course.

The premise that to enter a relationship one must be of service might be valuable, but nobody wants advice unless they ask for it. They may want help, another kind of service, but sometime an offer of help feels intrusive. Is laughter a service? Maybe, but one person’s joke is another person’s credo. Tricky. What do people want from each other?

After decades of being sought after for either thinking/words or my waist-to-hip ratio, I am now considering the idea that what most people want from others is to be seen and heard. To be kept agreeable company. Quite Nature of Being and all that, where existence is enough. Words optional.

I could be embarrassed to talk about this new community process, as it feels vulnerable, but I’ve decided to drop shame. Not useful; not Sturdy, and besides we’re in this together. I put the question to you all. If you consider the relationships you’ve made later in life, can you characterize the transaction, if we can call it that? What did you offer, openly or implied? And what was offered in return?

“Why are friends?” perhaps verges alarmingly on, “Why are people?” but let’s live dangerously. Thoughts?

Have a wonderful weekend.