This week I walked with our Saturday group because David and I were away on Sunday. So obviously a different group of ladies. One of the ladies was a real Chatty Cathy – she literally did not stop talking once, so it makes sense that something she said prompted todays blog post.
Dotted along the walk we did was little tables and chairs. As we approached the one, she said “Ah look an invitation to sit.” I thought about this for ages as we walked (and she talked).
I coincidentally read this article about how long tables are the antidote to loneliness. Basically in this setting, St Paul’s College in Sydney, there are 2 long tables of 25 and the rules are, you don’t get to decide where you sit. You get your plate and head to the first open spot, you can’t start fulling the 2nd table until the first one is full and if someone is sitting alone, you have to join them or convince them to join the main tables.
The consequence of this system is that it takes only a week or two for everyone in the House to have dined alongside nearly everyone else, and this means that the naturally intimidating task of sitting next to someone new at dinner is both undermined at the start, and entirely trivial by week three.
The simple table can be so incredibly powerful, not just for eating and sharing a meal but for coming together and sharing our lives.
It is about socialising and connecting over the minutiae of our day. It is a space for arguing, discussing issues, laughing and loving. Source
Back to my walk. I think the reason this statement stuck with me because it was an invitation to be calm. An invitation to be still. To listen. To be listened to and supported. I am having a somewhat tumultuous relationship with calm and stillness right now. My grief sits in the stillness. It is loudest when the world is still. It overwhelms me and envelops me. But the calm is also where I find peace. It is where I can enjoy the simple things – coffee with a friend, crafting, writing, watching a TV show. It is where I want to be, but also where it is hard to be.
I said to a friend recently “I am walking my way through grief”. I have written about it as well. Getting out into nature, walking, pushing my body and clearing my mind is definitely helping me work through the grief. Walking with this group of ladies is also helping me more than I think I realise.
Not only did they invite me to sit with them, they don’t expect anything from me but more importantly they aren’t scared of my grief because many of them don’t even know about it (yet). Those that do understand and let me cry when I need to without the need to explain or apologise. We walk and we talk and we share but there is no expectation, no demand, no chaos. There is calm. There is healing.
And there are lessons everywhere!
What lessons have you learnt this week?
It sounds like you have a couple of wonderful groups of ladies to hike with! That is wonderful.