I dislike recalling statements that we say over and over again…but it’s true…
Our world is so small.
How does someone you decide to separate from…a former friend, an acquaintance…how do they end up back in your circle again?
In reflecting this yesterday, perhaps we all harbor the same preferences of friendship. We choose our friends unconsciously and in effect, those friends will choose similar friends until…the circles you wanted separated now intersect.
Whether it’s through common interests, through a common high tolerance…and oddly enough ethnicity.
I like to call myself an American who happens to be Asian. I identify myself as a human first, then by my interests, perhaps my career…then by where I live…then of schooling…then nationality, then ethnicity. What’s fascinating is that Asian Americans that I knew more than 10 years ago somehow keep popping up on my radar over and over again. Do we happen to move toward the same career field? Do we always be friends with those who look similar to us?
But why I am chuckling now is because I know that the non-Asians that I knew 10 years ago will not intersect my circle. They just don’t. I am not sure why. Will I ever run into the “friends” I had in high school?
There is this comfortable feeling I have on Saturdays. I wake up, not driven by the alarm clock. The day is open and hopeful. It may be sunny, cloudy or raining, but it’s so full of opportunity.
During graduate school in Pittsburgh when I lived in a different state than my parents, empty days were full of possibility. I loved the dawdling down to the local supermarket, perhaps a stop into the local tea shop…jogging around the park. But as the first year passed, it was…as I realize it….was incomplete. And I would write endless entries in my journals and blogs trying to understand the incomplete piece.
There’s a part of me that loves being a quirkyalone…and yet…maybe I am not.
What is the joy in watching a TV show or movie…when you can’t ask someone what they thought about it even if you know their answer will always be “I LOVE JACK BAUER”? What is the joy in eating when you can’t taste someone’s dish and not feel guilty about spitting it out if it has mushrooms? What is the joy in going out for tea alone when you can’t stare at someone across the table in silence without awkwardness…but only feel comfort of the moment?
I love the weekends, because I don’t have to ask, “Do you want to go to [something] with me?” Rather it’s “How do you want spend your day with me?”