Continuing self-awareness: the Batchelor party recap
In general, I'm not a big fan of men. So many of them are so unlike me in so many ways. When I find one who is worthwhile I feel like I've discovered a treasure. I have many more female friends than male, but the male friends I have tend to be closer, on average, than the female. I still don't tend to see them as often as my women friends, but the time with them feels like it's always worthwhile and of very high quality. This weekend I spent Friday evening through Monday morning with 11 other men at an old mansion in Long Beach for a retreat and extended bachelor party for my friend Nic.
Background: Nic was a freshman in my dorm my sophomore year at Reed. That was the fall of 1992. Since then we've become very close. He is very good at getting me to get out and live, rather than sit at home in my familiar comfort zone. Bringing me to Burning Man was his idea, as was a 2 week hiking trip in Utah we did with one other friend. This weekend was a chance for a dozen of us to spend some time together and with him, to appreciate him and advise him and let him go into the next phase of his life.
The trip was most excellent. The food was copious and magnificent: lamb on the grill with Merlot, salad from homegrown greens, blueberry pancakes, bacon, Scotch, hot brownies with ice cream. For dinner on friday I made sushi. We consumed nearly five pounds of fish that night, in addition to the rice, miso soup, edamame, mochi desert, etc, etc. Every meal was like that. The weather was great, and we went down to the beach several times. We played a variety of games, physical, intellectual, intuitive. We also had some really good, heartfelt conversations. The company and camaraderie were wonderful, and there haven't been many times in my life when I've been part of a group that size where there was so much love and support, with no conflict, personality clashes, ego, or agenda to get in the way. Nic has good taste in men. (Oddly enough, given that it was a dozen guys alone in a house for 3 days, there was nearly no discussion of sex. Just the occasional innuendo, but no real conversation that I'm aware of. Not sure what that means.)
Early in the weekend I was having a conversation with Paul, and mentioned how I expected to have an educational or enlightening experience of the weekend, because pretty much everything Nic invites me to go do has that effect on my life. So reliable is this over the last few years, that I went so far as to say that I would be disappointed if I didn't get something deep out of the weekend. So sunday afternoon a bunch of us are down at the beach. It's a typical Northwest beach scene: kind of bright, very windy, not actually cold, but not really warm either. I'm sitting on the beach watching some of the guys play in the surf. I've got my shades on and my parka hood up to shield me from the wind. Paul comes up to where I'm sitting and flops down on his back, spread eagle in the wet sand, pants rolled up to his knees, and proceeds to fall asleep. A bit later I realize that I'm sitting in a shell, protecting myself from the slightest incursion of discomfort from sun, sand, wind or water. He's oblivious to the sun on his face, the water seeping up through the sand into his clothes, and the wind and sand abrading him. It was a very clear example to me of how protected I keep myself, how much I limit my experience of life for fear of the slightest unfamiliarity or inconvenience. I also realized my willingness to dive into the unknown when someone else requests that of me, because I trust them. And when I do get out of my familiar groove, where I know everything and am in control and life is predictable, I have a great time. Need to do that more often. A very apt insight for a Nic Appreciation Weekend.
Here is my request for all of you: unsettle me. Ask me to do things that "I don't do". Feed me weird food. Loan me CDs. Ask me out to *shudder* cultural events, or to go hiking, or a dozen things I can't even think of. Don't be swayed if I'm reluctant; right now that's my nature. Gently and persistently continue to guide and teach and me. I'll thank you for it.
Thank you Nic.
Background: Nic was a freshman in my dorm my sophomore year at Reed. That was the fall of 1992. Since then we've become very close. He is very good at getting me to get out and live, rather than sit at home in my familiar comfort zone. Bringing me to Burning Man was his idea, as was a 2 week hiking trip in Utah we did with one other friend. This weekend was a chance for a dozen of us to spend some time together and with him, to appreciate him and advise him and let him go into the next phase of his life.
The trip was most excellent. The food was copious and magnificent: lamb on the grill with Merlot, salad from homegrown greens, blueberry pancakes, bacon, Scotch, hot brownies with ice cream. For dinner on friday I made sushi. We consumed nearly five pounds of fish that night, in addition to the rice, miso soup, edamame, mochi desert, etc, etc. Every meal was like that. The weather was great, and we went down to the beach several times. We played a variety of games, physical, intellectual, intuitive. We also had some really good, heartfelt conversations. The company and camaraderie were wonderful, and there haven't been many times in my life when I've been part of a group that size where there was so much love and support, with no conflict, personality clashes, ego, or agenda to get in the way. Nic has good taste in men. (Oddly enough, given that it was a dozen guys alone in a house for 3 days, there was nearly no discussion of sex. Just the occasional innuendo, but no real conversation that I'm aware of. Not sure what that means.)
Early in the weekend I was having a conversation with Paul, and mentioned how I expected to have an educational or enlightening experience of the weekend, because pretty much everything Nic invites me to go do has that effect on my life. So reliable is this over the last few years, that I went so far as to say that I would be disappointed if I didn't get something deep out of the weekend. So sunday afternoon a bunch of us are down at the beach. It's a typical Northwest beach scene: kind of bright, very windy, not actually cold, but not really warm either. I'm sitting on the beach watching some of the guys play in the surf. I've got my shades on and my parka hood up to shield me from the wind. Paul comes up to where I'm sitting and flops down on his back, spread eagle in the wet sand, pants rolled up to his knees, and proceeds to fall asleep. A bit later I realize that I'm sitting in a shell, protecting myself from the slightest incursion of discomfort from sun, sand, wind or water. He's oblivious to the sun on his face, the water seeping up through the sand into his clothes, and the wind and sand abrading him. It was a very clear example to me of how protected I keep myself, how much I limit my experience of life for fear of the slightest unfamiliarity or inconvenience. I also realized my willingness to dive into the unknown when someone else requests that of me, because I trust them. And when I do get out of my familiar groove, where I know everything and am in control and life is predictable, I have a great time. Need to do that more often. A very apt insight for a Nic Appreciation Weekend.
Here is my request for all of you: unsettle me. Ask me to do things that "I don't do". Feed me weird food. Loan me CDs. Ask me out to *shudder* cultural events, or to go hiking, or a dozen things I can't even think of. Don't be swayed if I'm reluctant; right now that's my nature. Gently and persistently continue to guide and teach and me. I'll thank you for it.
Thank you Nic.