The Universalist Strikes Again!

Today I interrupted my very glamourous holiday to have coffee with our lovely hostess and my co-holidayer. This is a bit of a tradition for us ladies and a sweet one at that. I may not have yet mentioned that our hostess is ludicrously generous with us, but know that this caffeinated moment reminds me that her generosity of heart is greater still than her generosity of home (and groceries and sunscreen and books and wine and beer and...).  My co-holidayer I already know to be lovely and sweet but even we enjoy these brief moments away from our small people and married-tos to hear the others' lives.

But of course, I had to take my crazy with me.

As we sat and caught up on Life As It Is Right Now, it became beautifully clear that Lovely Hostess and Co-Holidayer have some Ways in common.  Ways of loving, and ways of being in the world that they shared, and that make them say to each other, "I know! Me too!"

Ways that are nothing like me and my ways.

And I realized that as much as I kind of assume that everyone must be just like me and living in the world just like me, I also want to be just like everyone else and live in the world just like them.

But I couldn't do it.  As they talked about the dynamic they live with the attendant challenges and blessings that way brings, I couldn't say "Me too!".  I had to smile and nod and say "Yes, I see that in you." And then when LH said, "Now you, you're not like that at all", I had to smile and nod and say, "Nope, not so much."

One thing that's nice about being in my mid-(late?) thirties and not in my mid-(late?) twenties, is that I feel less pressure to pretend. There was a day, not too long ago, when I would have tried to pull it off: "Oh yeah, I totally know what you mean. One time, I even did this [insert obviously implausible, made-up story here] thing, just like you!" Then I would feel like a lying, misfit loser for the rest of the day, instead of just a misfit loser.  And maybe now in my old age, it's mostly just misfit.

I want my experience to Universal, 'tis sure.  But the flip-side of that is that in my deep heart's desire to Belong, is the lurking desire to be Just Like You, whoever you happen to be. In my teens, this was near-disastrous more than once.  In my thirties, it's just kind of sobering.  But it makes me think that one of the lovelinesses of the Kingdom is the promise of belonging in an eternal, last-forever way. 

I'm betting that in Heaven every conversation will include "Me too!"  If it doesn't, I may have to quit.