When you live alone for a significant amount of time, there are certain skills, or etiquette, shall we say, that gets forgotten about after a while. There are the obvious examples such as peeing with the door open or eating with fingers, jaws smacking, and no regard to what sprays, drips or falls from the corners of your lips, because that is what the back of your arm is for. There are the blatant displays of nudity, including, but not limited to, dance parties, toe-nail clipping, and baking. There is no shame in the accumulation of wine bottles that starts its slow ascension into mountaindom-status: you never can remember recycling day anyways.
But, lost among my thingamajig book of manners, seems to be my ability to share. Twice now my roommate walked into the kitchen while I was pouring myself a glass of wine and both times I put the cork back in, set the bottle on the counter, and sat back down. And once when I boiled water for tea!
How hard is it to ask, would you like a glass?
I’ve gotten so used to “life for one” that I’m missing some small chunk of compassion that might have missed the memo that sharing doesn’t just mean giving a portion of your “item” to another; taking your wine to your respective corners to consume. That sometimes sharing means sitting down for a spell and well……sharing. That two glasses equals that much time to talk a little bit about life and all of its mysteries, about the trials and tribulations of your day or to simply enjoy a comfortable silence together.
I want to be a person who shares. A person who looks out for others and who gives a lot and gives a lot freely. A person who listens with arms uncrossed and believes that there is always time for a cup of tea or a glass of wine. I realized, that after the above mentioned, once-bitten-thrice-no-wine routine, perhaps my sharing skills could use a little brushing up on.
So I’m loving the fact that I just moved into a new apartment with two new roommates but also fast friends. Two amazing opportunities to practice sharing as much as possible. We are building a home together which means negotiating paint colors and decorating styles and whose-furniture-goes-where. We are navigating through idiosyncrasies and OCD’s, through mood-swings and synched periods. But we are also going to be there on those nights when you just want to talk. Or cry. Or vent. Or play Scrabble.
Anyways, talking is always easier when you have something to do with your hands. (insert wine glass or tea cup here)
And while I wade though the waters of sharing and cohabitation; the joy of cooking meals for three and not just one, I’m going to commit to pouring a lot of cups of tea, just for practice.
So c’mon over and sit for a bit. I wanna get good at this. How was your day?