Coming In and Out of Our Lives

In some sense, today is going to be a continuation, or maybe an explanation of yesterday’s ponderings. As I knew would happen, one of you called me on what I was saying, and I had to admit that I wasn’t quite sure what I was saying. That’s the joy of pondering, you figure it out as you go along. And sometimes you need a little outside assistance, which is where all of you come in.

Yesterday I was wondering about friends coming in and out of our lives. Being in college, it seems to be happening a lot. I think I came across as questioning the value of friendships that fade away. I’m not trying to do that. I’m convinced of the value of those friendships. I think I was questioning the activities those friendships centered around. Twice now, I’ve had friendships that were epitomized in certain activities. When the activities ended, the friendship wasn’t over. It may have changed, but it wasn’t over. I’m not questioning those friendships. They’d be pretty shallow friendships if they ended that way. I’m wondering about the activity itself and the hope I put in that activity.


I’ve had a lot of hopes and dreams about the King’s Yomen and Mission Control that will simply fade away, never having been achieved. It was fun while it lasted, but now it’s done and over with. What’s the point? (not to say that Mission Control is over, I’m speaking hypothetically) I think that is what I was trying to articulate yesterday. I realize that these experiences shape who I am and have given me invaluable skills that I will rely on for the rest of my life. That’s all well and good, but what about the more important stuff? If I spend less time on Mission Control, I could spend more time practicing my writing skills and be that much closer to writing a book. I think that’s basically what I was wondering yesterday.

But thinking about it again, I’m questioning the hopes and dreams I set up for myself. There’s nothing wrong with hopes and dreams, but pinning too much on them can be a problem. Or maybe if writing is really what I want to do, I should chase my hopes and dreams for writing. Why chase dreams about your third, fourth, or fifth love? Especially in lieu of chasing the bigger dreams. In a sense, I think it comes down to a pride issue. Not meeting my lofty ideals doesn’t mean anything.

Something else the same person pointed out is the way friends effect us. They bring out attributes of our character that no one else can. In that sense, losing them is truly tragic. ‘No man is an island.’

I feel like I’m still not giving justice to this subject, but I guess that’s okay. That’s what tomorrow’s ponderings are for.

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