For the longest time, I never enjoyed parties; blasphemy to those who know me now. I presumed them to be for those who sought attention and for whom it was more important to be invited and seen than actually enjoying themselves. Over time this opinion changed, some throughout college, mostly after. It was during that time I craved socialization. The people around me were my age and a little older, and I couldn't help but want to ask everyone there, "What the fuck are we all doing with our lives?" It was a sarcastic question, one I thought we could all humorously relate to one another about. And while it was relatable, I was less sarcastic than I led on. I actually kinda meant it. And nobody had an answer. And neither did I. So none of us really talked to one another, and we all downed another drink.
As the years rolled on by, we threw party after party, and I was left wondering what it was exactly that we did it for. "It was fun!" Sure, that was the obvious answer. But nothing ever really changed. And the more parties we threw, the less we could change about them. In the course of years, we had the novelty of the changing the guard from season to season of work, and new people meant it was new to them, which was nice in its own right. It also brought in new ideas for all sorts of different kinds of parties. But after a while, I wanted to experience something different. And not just a change of scene, theme, or some other fun new material aspect of the party, but rather, a change of what a party meant. Not the form, but the function. Yes, we would revel, we would drink and play games, and much could be the same, but I thought we could transform our parties from something of a distraction of our daily stresses into a decompression of our souls. It would be something we were always glad we did and, further, something we could not imagine our time together without.
I'm not sure I ever pulled this off.
My desire for this was not in vain, however. It was one part of a longer inner journey I was on to find what it was that fulfilled me. Why did I want a party like that? And why was it so difficult to put into words what it was supposed to turn into exactly? When I envisioned the perfect party, I pictured some people playing games together, others sitting facing each other in a good discussion, some outside sharing a smoke or two, and an overall relatively quick exchange of each other's company with short bursts of sincere conversation. And just as I envisioned this, it came to me that it was sincerity that I was after. Shared moments of genuine joy and authentic expression. Isn't that something we all want? It is often considered that with the release of one's inhibitions, one's "true colors" rise to the surface, and nothing does that more quickly than alcohol. And so I associated going to the parties as a means of seeing these true colors, of forging these sincere moments.
So I tried talking to anyone about everything I could pull out of them. Not everyone, but those I felt would have enjoyed opening up. That isn't to say I was all that good at it, though. But in those moments where I felt like I did share that authentic moment, I reveled in it more than any moment of any party. To revel is more than merriment, more than joy, and more than a party. Revelry is all three and more. It is a celebration, elation, and the impetus to focus on those around you. It is often accompanied by drinking and dancing, but not necessarily so. Revelry is, however, accompanied by the desire to cheer, which further implies its focus on others. And I'm here to tell you today that revelry is one of the key ingredients to a fulfilling social life.
To be honest, I'm not quite sure how many of us have our social life all figured out. I can never tell when I meet others if they already have all the friends they want or if their relationships with others are exactly as great as they want them to be. But I can tell when I see someone who is like me. When they have a head secretly full of their heart. When there is a mask of cool and calm over otherwise turbulent depths. And its major sign is a spout of unsolicited ideas they cannot help but utter at some unbeseeming moment. And within that moment is hidden just a peak of their real self and all it is trying (dying) to say. This is what I revel in witnessing. I actually feel a swelling of joy because seeing that is seeing them is seeing me. And more often than not, I like what I see. And I wholly relate. And it did not take a party.
With only that glimpse, I can forever revel with them in every moment forward, party or no. I actively seek moments to open up their interests, lower their guard, and raise their spirits. I feel the need to inquire and craft high-quality questions, (though I'm still learning that bit.) I celebrate every authentic, vulnerable moment henceforth, which I have the pleasure of listening to, by trying to connect my own vulnerability to theirs. To help them know that I relate to them and that they might be able to relate to me. By diving into the deep end of the topics they only dip their toes in mentioning seriously because of how unbelievably conscious they are of it. It is the most human connection. It is the fiber of the threads that bind us. I forever know something that is you, and you forever know something that is me. Every earnest discussion, a triumph. Every genuine moment, a victory.
And to celebrate the victories of your friends, you must know what a victory is to them.
Sometimes, it's just being themselves.
At the end of the day (and before I get carried away with the verbiage here), it comes down to relating to one another. Not rationally, but emotionally. So what I ask of you now is to keep an eye out for those moments, and when you see these moments of your friends, keep in mind that there might just be more they wish to express. You don't need to pry. But if you truly sense a moment that they might just have something more to mention, something else to add, something they are barely holding themselves back from diving deep with you about, then coax them speak. That all said, don't go out today looking for this in others either, for you run the risk of seeing signs that aren't there. Just be there, present, and aware. You can make real bonds of friendship in many ways, but by far the best is in the earnest revelry of others.
Today's post was a bit more sporadic than most so far, but I hope you enjoyed it all the more. Life is fleeting, and friendship is among the things that make it worth living.
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