![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Too many social events this weekend, but I had reasons for going to each of them, so I did. Friday night was First Friday, and there were a whopping four of us who showed up for the Courteous Mass ride. Multiple people had asked me if it was happening and to organize it, and bailed. I kind of knew they would, but I also wanted to be true to my word, so on it went. One rider peeled off to join the mountain biking clinic with his son (he'd announced his intentions well in advance), and another rider came along mostly because he wanted to learn the route to downtown Bryan. So rider 2 turned and headed straight back. That left myself and my friend JR. He wasn't interested in sticking around to watch Up!, so then it was just me, in my camp chair (first time I've used it in Texas!), and all the families with small children. I'm glad I watched it, although Hollywood movies tend to leave me fundamentally depressed. Mostly because I remember seeing and hearing about the real-life story that inspired the movie. Then I rode home.
Saturday, my friend C invited me over for a going-away party for a friend of hers. I mostly know C through bicycling, but we have some biological interests in common as well, so more than anything it felt important to go to the party out of respect for those connections. Plus, she's told me many stories about her animals (two cats and a dog) and garden, and I've never gotten to meet them in person. She was one of the first people I met here who made me think, "Okay, there can be kindred spirits in this town." Parties aren't my favorite forums for social interactions, but it was still good to go.
And then this afternoon, J and K's son B had his fifth birthday party, hosted at his #1 babysitter's house (Miss B). I didn't bring B a gift (and I'm glad, because he got plenty of "stuff"), but it again felt important to go and meet the other folks that B spends lots of time with. And once again, it was good to go.
But there's another part of me that really, really wished to just curl up at home and not talk to anyone. Superficial, "getting-to-know-you" conversations are exhausting for me. They're hard to avoid, but I don't get much pleasure out of bobbing my head up and down and saying I'm from Seattle. If I don't know whether or when the narrative threads might pick back up again, what can I say that will foster a meaningful experience? How can I talk about things that are meaningful to me, if I have to start at the stage of explaining that no, I don't own a car, and yes, I rode my bike here. I know that, in both cases, if I said "I just don't feel like going," my friends would understand. But at the same time, my friends have put a lot of effort into creating inviting gatherings, and I should honor that.
So now it's Sunday night. Tomorrow I hope to be back in a headspace where I can make more progress on academic projects. In the interim, I've lost track of my own headspace. I hope I can find it again.
Sometimes it's hard to know how to find the balance between trying to do the exhausting parts to build community, and deciding to be reclusive so as to chase trains of thought in greater depth.
Saturday, my friend C invited me over for a going-away party for a friend of hers. I mostly know C through bicycling, but we have some biological interests in common as well, so more than anything it felt important to go to the party out of respect for those connections. Plus, she's told me many stories about her animals (two cats and a dog) and garden, and I've never gotten to meet them in person. She was one of the first people I met here who made me think, "Okay, there can be kindred spirits in this town." Parties aren't my favorite forums for social interactions, but it was still good to go.
And then this afternoon, J and K's son B had his fifth birthday party, hosted at his #1 babysitter's house (Miss B). I didn't bring B a gift (and I'm glad, because he got plenty of "stuff"), but it again felt important to go and meet the other folks that B spends lots of time with. And once again, it was good to go.
But there's another part of me that really, really wished to just curl up at home and not talk to anyone. Superficial, "getting-to-know-you" conversations are exhausting for me. They're hard to avoid, but I don't get much pleasure out of bobbing my head up and down and saying I'm from Seattle. If I don't know whether or when the narrative threads might pick back up again, what can I say that will foster a meaningful experience? How can I talk about things that are meaningful to me, if I have to start at the stage of explaining that no, I don't own a car, and yes, I rode my bike here. I know that, in both cases, if I said "I just don't feel like going," my friends would understand. But at the same time, my friends have put a lot of effort into creating inviting gatherings, and I should honor that.
So now it's Sunday night. Tomorrow I hope to be back in a headspace where I can make more progress on academic projects. In the interim, I've lost track of my own headspace. I hope I can find it again.
Sometimes it's hard to know how to find the balance between trying to do the exhausting parts to build community, and deciding to be reclusive so as to chase trains of thought in greater depth.
