The handful of exceptional entrepreneurs I know are extremely busy; like, you have to contact their assistant to schedule a 5 minute phone call kind of busy. The better of them use the general coffee-tea-happy hour cocktail hour meeting as a chance to kill two birds with one stone, whereby they walk. An opportunity for exercise. When I was in Santa Barbara back in March, there was the walk through the farmer’s market meeting. Grab some fruit and veg, get exercise, discuss business. When I was in Boston, I was being a tourist but also walking through plans. Recently in Wisconsin, clarifying ideas and objectives seemed to come specifically from walking. Last Saturday’s book editing proposal involved walking his dog. There are physiological and psychological benefits to walking. Irrefutable. Some environments aren’t conducive to walking, yes. But not every meeting has to be about food or drink. Consider meeting at a park, a store, a museum, the grocery store. We’re busy but we want to connect. Share in getting done what we all want to get done. Do it together.
I just got back from a walking meet with my best friend – since I was 15. We try to connect every 3 months or so. We live on opposite ends of the city, completely different lives. Meet in the middle. We are mature enough to know the connection is a refueling, so the setting is irrelevant. It’s time, time together; not about place.
we always pick up where we left off
It came up that I have very few friends and a very small family; he knows. I’m intentional about the ones. But this also means, if anyone is absent, it’s very apparent. A handful of people at a dinner becomes noticeably quieter minus that extra voice. I consider this because I’m consistently coming across these articles about well-aged individuals chalking up their longevity to expansive social networks. A tinge of fear always rises. Not me. Since I was a toddler, I’ve felt a confidence about my solitude.
I once dated a guy who said, ‘We don’t need each other; we both want to be here.’ I thought it was simply true, moderately profound, and potentially sad. The potentially sad part turned out. Don’t we want to need them?
When I returned from our walking meet, I came up to my condo porch and distinguished my landing as the one out of four without a pumpkin or any fall decor. I brush off decorating; I always have. It doesn’t go with my aesthetics. The colors clash. Green and red is a terrible color combination. Really, I’m ok being the odd one out, the quieter one, the one with fewer friends. I love my life.
Quality over quantity in all things.