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Life with Lavendar in London town

Tuesday, 7 April 2009

Give and Take

I don't know what it is about me at the moment but I seem to be surrounded by young women (and by that I mean younger than me in their late 20's, early 30's) who just want to talk to me. About themselves. Endlessly.

I saw a friend recently whom I have not seen for a very long time. She is a delight but during our catchup, she talked about herself non-stop. I don't think I even needed to be there.

Another friend cornered me the other day to spill her ongoing tale of woe. It's not the first time and it won't be the last. I don't think she listened or heard anything I said. I think she just wanted a face to talk to.

My neighbour loves to talk too. At me. By me. To me. But not really with me.

I'm getting a bit fed up with all this. I'm a curious person and I genuinely like to get inside another person's heart and mind so that I can understand where they are coming from. But this pattern is starting to bug me.

Sometimes when I'm in this situation I feel like that other person is trying to suck up all my energy. That I have something that they want.

For god sakes - what on earth could I have that they want!?

So I took a step back from it all and remembered. I remembered when I was like them. Younger, unsure and trying to figure it all out. Continuously on the brink of something but never knowing what that something was and not knowing how to get it. I remembered when I was in the company of an older, sympathetic ear. I remember how I used to blab about myself non stop and never stopped to ask that person:

By the way - how are you? What's going on in your life?

What goes around comes around.

But that's not what I wanted to say.

What I wanted to say was that to those men and women who listened and listened and advised and nurtured and helped guide me through those woolly, wilderness years. Thank You. From the bottom of my woolly, wild heart. Bless you.

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