Today, however, I’ve been think about friends I see only occasionally. We get together once in a while, maybe just a couple of times a year, exchange a few emails, and that is enough--unless something comes up, and then communication picks up. Because we are not involved in the details of each other’s lives, our conversations are free of judgments about what one of us should do. Instead, we get right to the point of life--what we are doing to find meaning in our lives.
The other day a friend acknowledged that his ninety-year-old mother-in-law on hospice is still searching for meaning. In accompanying her, the family is also finding personal and collective meaning. Death, one of our biggest teachers, shows us that meaning making is communal.
Hmm, here’s a post script: for those of us who love silence, solitude and simplicity, that longing can only be satisfied in community.