There is a guy at work that I have a great privilege of hanging out with on a weekly basis. It isn't just "hanging out" as much as is it "delve the dark recesses of our spiritual and personal existence with a rescue party in tow". Garry and I share some of the same fears, troubles and happiness in life. Excellent jobs that seem unfulfilling but pay the bills. Loving wives to whom we are devoted. Kids that make our lives so easy that we have trouble finding legitimate things to complain about. A spiritual walk that is grounded and lived out. The thing we share most though is a feeling that we are missing the boat. That life has passed us by. That we are casualties of the war men fight to "do the right thing". Yet we know that this feeling is wrong.
It is that last point that showed me the idiocy of my previous way of dealing with life. For 20 years I fought an internal battle with myself, alone, wounded, slowly bleeding to death. It wasn't until Garry and I started talking that I realized I was one of many lying in a hospital waiting to recover. Funny thing is the wounds are self inflicted. My isolation, self imposed isolation, prevented me from getting the type of "kick in the pants" I needed.
I am not saying that "hanging out" with someone is what helped me see the reality of my life. It was, is, Garry's willingness to listen and comment that has been the biggest help to me. I hope that I might someday repay that favor.
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