How to Make Friends.

Spoiler Alert: I have no idea.

​I don't feel like I'm very good at making friends. I think this is true because I am not good at small talk. I don't like how disingenuous it feels. And sounds. I butcher through phrases about the weather or the upcoming holidays. I hold myself back, often, from saying what is really on my mind. 

Sometimes this is a good move.

Lately, though, I've been feeling that sting of loneliness. Of wanting "a friend." Someone who gets me. Someone who I can share all those thoughts with without fear of judgement. Does such a thing exist? I hear judgement all around me. I feel judgement in my own heart.

So. I've been reaching out. Just a little bit at a time. Trying to reach out to people to share a little, to be somewhat vulnerable with them. And here's what I'm learning. They can't save me.

Not that I need saving. I don't know. Sometimes I'm just looking for a friend, you know? Someone to say: "Yeah. Bummer. Wow. I don't know, but you are doing ok! You are making it! You will make it!"

Let me tell you my loneliness story from a couple weeks ago. In a rush of emotion (adrenaline, love, compassion, joy), I decided I wanted to get a group of women together to celebrate the New Moon. The New Moon is ripe with possibilities, creativity, awesomeness. I thought this would be a good chance to reach out, make friends with likeminded soul sisters, and get our manifesting on!

I was so scared. Scared of putting myself out there in this way. Scared because I'd never BEEN to one of these circles before, much less created one and prepared to facilitate one. So I put my thoughts on paper, I did some research, I went to the store and bought flowers and soy candles and sage for clearing the space. And I thought: "Just show up, and the universe will help things fall into place."

And you know what happened?

No one came.

I sat alone in my cirlce. I lit candles and cleared the space. I sat in silent meditation. I let the tears come. I tried to quiet the voice making kind excuses. And I tried to quiet the voice being mean, telling me it's just another reminder that I am unloveable and un-friendable.

I sat as the emotions rose and fell. I worked through the ritual I had planned for the group. I journalled and then spoke my intention into the space. I meditated on my words. And then I went home.

I'm still processing that evening. I am contemplating loneliness. And how we can be there for ourselves. I am proud that I did the ritual, and proud that I let myself be sad and work through it, and not die from the sadness. I also feel that it's a gift to be able to discern "thinking" from reality, and to not make that story - that anecdote - be another proof point in my greatest fear: that I am unloveable.

So here's where I am today. Was I lonely that night? I was sad that no one came. I wanted a witness (or two) to the intentions. And I wanted to feel community around me. I wanted support. I wanted to hear from others. I wanted to share a little of myself with the world.

But was I lonely? No. 

While I missed feeling connected with others, I did note a connection within myself. I stayed with me. I showed up.