Do I Know You?–The Rule of 150

I can’t help but feel guilty when I don’t remember someone’s name, or even worse, don’t remember someone at all. It happens to me almost daily. No, I’m not suffering from memory loss, although it sure seems that way, I am just dealing with the rule of 150.

This rule, the rule of 150, is also known as Dunbar’s number after British anthropologist, Robin Dunbar. He derived the number from observation and extrapolation from brain-size experiments. We humans, on average, can maintain 150 relationships. This includes past friends with whom we want to maintain a relationship. In today’s world, 150 friends seems woefully inadequate. Think about it…how many family members do you have? How many classmates from high school, college, and grad school? How many from your work environment? How many “friends” on social media?

The first time I heard of this rule, was Malcolm Gladwell’s book, The Tipping Point. He talked about W. L. Gore and Associates where they limited their factories to 150 employees. Everyone knows everyone else at the plant. If the company gets more business than one factory can handle with 150 people, it opens a new plant. The management has desks in the middle of the plant. Everyone knows everyone. They know their names, they know their personal stories, they care about each other. When a recession hits, the workers cut their own hours so that no one has to lose their job. It was a great business case. Their decision to limit their factories to 150 was based on trial and error, but it also provides supporting evidence for Dunbar’s number.

In my job, I probably interface with several hundred people on a semi-regular basis. Each time I change jobs at work, I am once again confronted with meeting several hundred new people. Having changed jobs about 10 times over the years, I have met, literally, thousands of people. I am not exactly a recluse, so I do have friends and family to remember, too. This is all to say that having met thousands of people in my life with whom I needed to have a relationship with for at least a short time, it is not so surprising that when an old business colleague pops up after many years, I generally have no idea who they are without a few hints. This is more true of people outside of my own organization, but even within my functional organization, there are about a thousand people.

So, although it is awkward, I generally re-introduce myself to people I haven’t seen in a long time or whom I know but can’t recall their name. I once said this to a mother of one of my children’s classmates to be slapped down with a “I know who you are, we’ve met, like, a thousand times!” This was done complete with an eye roll and then she turned her back on me for the rest of the event. Oh well. At work, when I re-introduce myself, I usually get a smile and a re-introduction from the other person. Sometimes I get a look of disappointment and even rarer, a deadpan response of, “we’ve met before”.

From now on, I’m not going to let it bother me. I do not need to know a thousand people and I don’t need to remember most of the people I’ve met only a handful of times. My circle of 150 is rich with family, friends, and people whom I’d like to get to know better.

Find the Joy in the Journey…

 

 

 

Girls’ Weekend–Part Two: Renewed

What a joy to have spent the weekend with my college roommates. I roomed with my original, and only, roommate (the rest were on our floor Freshman year and we all roomed together as Sophomores and Seniors…Junior year the Liberal Arts majors went abroad and my engineering roommate and I held the fort down on campus). We missed one of our group, and Skyped her early on Saturday so that we could all see and hear her. The last time I saw her was a year after graduation when I was in graduate school and she briefly moved back to St. Louis.

The five of us spent most of our time eating, talking, and taking group selfies. The artist amongst us impressed the rest of us with her ability to take group selfies with a small digital camera…no iPhone needed and no re-shoots either.

We started with the stories we shared and then came the stories of our lives as adults. We each had our own story to share, and no matter how different our experiences, we could all relate. The stories poured out. These were the stories not mentioned on Facebook and not included in our blogs. Between us we’ve experienced many things that tend to hit at mid-life. Themes arranged themselves around raising teens, raising a baby in our forties, elderly parents with memory issues, mysterious and hard to diagnose illness in a child, children with emotional issues, divorce, bankruptcy.

We also talked about art (including the Chagall windows that we all gazed into), literature, and where to go for our next meal. We drank the special bottle of French wine that the French major amongst us received for her 50th birthday. We toasted each of us, and our missing roommate, in order of birth, which spans an entire year. I lead off with a November 29th birthday and the last is November 28th of the following year. This is just a reminder to me, that I’ve vowed to celebrate for an entire year!

Too soon, the weekend ended. I enjoyed it immensely. I find it hard to disconnect from the worries of my life, but for this weekend they were suspended. With a smile on my face and tears in my eyes, I said goodbye. We set the first week of August 2015 as our next reunion, and assigned planners to “make it happen” and to include our missing roommate.

The two of us who’d driven, got back in the car. This time I took the Chicago traffic and we switched after clearing it and getting most of the way home. Along the way, she gave me some advice. It was the kind of thing that you want to tell yourself, but you don’t. She told me to take a week of vacation (because I have some to spare) and use it to declutter my house. She told me to hire a cleaning service, that I deserved to have one less thing to do in my busy life. Then she told me to take another week and actually go on vacation. Imagine that. She told me not to worry so much about my oldest who is forging his own way solo…she’s been teaching high school for years and has seen it all. She assures me my child will be ok.

Even though I thought the drive, five hours each way, would wipe out any benefit of a girls’ weekend, I was wrong. The renewal of the bonds of friendship are stronger than I realized. I got home feeling renewed and energized.

Find the Joy in the Journey…a Journey oft aided by the bonds of friendship!

Lighting The Way

It often takes a little hindsight to see things clearly. In the middle of a disaster, there’s no telling what is up, what is down, or even what is supposed to be up or down…it’s just all a swirl of dust and darkness and trying to grab onto something real when all of a sudden reality has abandoned you. That’s how I felt at the beginning of what will be a year of extricating myself from the destruction that I should have seen coming, but didn’t.

Very early on, a friend who can’t be here in person due to living abroad, sent me an e-book and shared her own story of survival. That book was like a beacon, shining light into the dark areas and reassuring me that I had nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of, and that I would survive and come out a year later with a whole new lease on life. That year is almost up, and when I look back, I know that my friend gave me a tool to light my way.

A couple of weeks ago, a package arrived for me at work. Well, it arrived at the mail room where I worked two moves ago. It took a while for the package to be forwarded to my new building. I had to sign for it and the mail room in my new building is only staffed a few hours a week. So, I had some time to speculate about exactly who could be sending me something and what it might be. I was pretty sure it was from the same friend who sent me the e-book because she’d sent it to the last address she knew for me…the building where we met and worked together before she left the company for a new opportunity.

Finally, I got my hands on the box and opened it up. Inside was a gift box with a brief note. Indeed it was from the same friend! She had sent me a light, this time a literal rather than figurative one. She explained that she was inspired by my posts about running to get back into it herself. She sent me the light, to be worn like a miner’s light on my head, so that I could keep up my running even as the mornings and evenings were getting too dark to run without a light.

I have put the light to use immediately, running after work a few nights a week. I think it annoys the motorists in the neighborhood, but then again, they clearly see me coming…even if I am shining a bright light in their eyes. When dusk starts to fall, the light doesn’t actually light my way, but is a beacon to others that I am coming. As the darkness deepens, the light becomes more visible to me, lighting the sidewalk ahead of me so that I don’t trip.

I have learned this year that it is ok to ask for help, to rely on others. As I come out of my year of darkness, I find myself ever more joyful and for the first time in a very long time, able to lift my head beyond my own immediate family and my own survival to those around me. I am grateful for my friends and family and looking forward to being a light for someone else.

In many ways, this blog has helped me, focusing me on the joy in my life instead of the sadness. It has also allowed me to be a light to others, some of whom I don’t know, by inspiring them to get out and run…whether to try the Couch to 5k program or to up their game to a 10k or even a half-marathon. I’m not sure exactly how I will transform this blog next month when I reach my fiftieth birthday, but I know I will keep on writing.

Find the Joy in the Journey…Be a light for others and let others light your way!

More Mixing and Mingling

Midway through my month of mixing and mingling and I’m having a few qualms. Nothing big, just a few jitters. I am decidedly an introvert. I took the Myers-Briggs as a grad student and came out as an INTJ…the “I” is for introvert. Later I took it a year into my job as a buyer at a big industrial company…I came out as an ENTJ…the “E” is for extrovert…except that I’m not. When I took the test the second time, I answered in a professional capacity. It wasn’t until years later that I took it a third time and ended up as an INTJ once again. By that time, I’d done some research into the topic and learned that introversion and extroversion have to do with motivation; introverts are internally motivated and extroverts are externally motivated. I had always thought it was about shyness versus outgoingness.

So, that is all by way of saying I am not particularly shy, and like most people, even my gregarious youngest child, going alone into a new situation makes me feel a bit shy. This month, however, I gave myself a challenge to say “yes” to as many social invitations as possible. This weekend meant going to a home shopping party where the host was a friend of a friend that I had met before, and the only other person I knew was our mutual friend. The party was at a private club, which was very nice…we women, about 30 strong, were the only guests at the club at the time, so it was very, umm…clubby!

I ordered a couple of items of clothes and headed back home. Next up was to go to a fundraiser in the evening. I love the city, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever be completely comfortable driving in the city by myself at night. The party was at a private home in a neighborhood of old “mansions”. I found it easily…the only house with all the lights on. Turned out to be a lovely, center-hall colonial. A couple of blocks away the neighborhood is decidedly much more rough.

I met up with a couple I’d met before walking from the street to the house. Inside, I surveyed the crowd and bounced from acquaintance to acquaintance until it was time for dinner. The meal was provided by a popular “pop up” restaurant chef. Everything was delicious. I sat with a woman I’d met twice before and enjoyed her company. Suddenly a ghostly marching band swarmed into the room and started playing some righteous John Phillips Souza (or, since I don’t know my marching band musicians, perhaps something else.) This turned out to be the Detroit Party Marching Band, a group of enthusiastic and talented musicians. They were dressed in ghostly garb, mostly wedding gowns by the women and white band uniforms by the men…and white hair and grey and white faces. After two pieces, the band leader indicated that they were on their way to a Halloween party and would play us one more piece before they left.

Being a bit of an addict to social media, I checked-in on Facebook to show the event I was enjoying. A friend texted me that her cousin was there, replete with a photo. Soon enough I waved across the room to her and approached her after the marching band left. We hugged and discussed how we had come to meet.

After dessert, I approached our guest speaker, a nuclear scientist turned comic book author (of the educational, science variety) because I knew he was running a half marathon in the morning. I praised him on his inspirational speech in support of the organization and wished him well in the race. Then I went around to as many people as I could find whom I knew and said my goodbyes.

I drove home to an empty house, feeling rather lonely. Within the hour, my girls came home and we said our goodnights. So, although it’s tough to go to a party on my own, I’m glad I did. I made a connection with people I like but rarely get to see, I got to contribute to my favorite non-profit,  and I had an amazing experience to boot.

Find the Joy in the Journey…it’s not always comfortable for an introvert, but it’s always worth it!

Five Days in France—Vive la Différence

As I went through my brief stay in France, I couldn’t help but notice the differences and similarities compared to home in the US. We travel, in part, to find and cherish those differences, and also to better appreciate our own lives when we find something just too far out of our comfort zone.

In France, there were many smokers, or so it seemed to me. They didn’t smoke inside, instead they smoked their last puffs before entering a building or huddled outside temporarily before returning inside. Where I live, there is no smoking inside so you’d think I’d find this normal. It’s not though. Back home many people used the change in the law to spur themselves to quit and I rarely see a smoker back home. Many people smoked on the streets of Paris and casually spun their butts onto the pavement when they finished. The infamous litter of Paris was nowhere to be found, except in the cigarette butts and used Metro tickets which were liberally scattered across Paris. I found it to be an otherwise clean city, without the trash and warn-down globs of chewing gum found in many US cities.

I saw more roundabouts than I ever dreamed possible in France. I grew up near a few in rural Ohio, but never thought of them as a French staple. Apparently they keep the traffic speed in check, as was explained to me while I was there…but I know they keep the traffic flowing, creating continuous movement without traffic lights.

The high-speed trains are widely used to travel from city to city quickly and efficiently. Some expressed surprise that a country as advanced as the US doesn’t have any and is struggling to get any started. Upon further discussion, however, the same problems the US faces in implementing them were obstacles in France as well…but with the vastly longer distances required in the US, the problems and costs are magnified in the US.

I saw many water closets (WC’s) in France…given the British origins of the term, I was surprised. I’ve never seen one in England but saw them randomly in France, including at a friend’s apartment and at the Radison Blu hotel at the Charles de Gaulle airport. On the one hand, it is a convenience for people sharing a space to be able to separate the toilet from the shower or tub. On the other hand, it often means there’s no access to the sink to wash your hands when it is most desirable to do so. Speaking of which, I saw more people than I care to think about leaving the ladies toilets without even a nod to the sink….and one woman who walked out of a squat-toilet and headed directly for the hand dryer.

On a more positive note, there is the cheese. Ah, the cheese. It is an entire course of the meal! I’m not sure my waistline has made it intact through these five days, but my palate is enormously pleased! I wish I knew the names and origins of these cheeses, but perhaps I am better off not knowing. Likely I’d not be able to find them back home much less afford them. I sat on a train next to a man who works for a company which makes artisan cheese-making equipment; but only the kind for soft cheeses. It is a niche market, he confessed. He was back home from South Africa for a weekend then off to Wisconsin…

I found myself welcomed warmly wherever I went, whether by a business colleague, an inn keeper, or a friend of a friend. Yet many people I met socially, confessed that it was very difficult to make friends in certain parts of the country or if you were new to an area. This was the theme of a series of conversations, conversations where the seeds of friendship were being sewn.

What I learned about France is that I want to spend months there learning the language, I want to spend weeks exploring Paris, and I want to spend a lifetime visiting friends, new and old, and soaking up everything through every one of my senses.

Find the Joy in the Journey…I don’t know if mine starts or ends in France, but I know it travels through it!

My Home Shopping Party Weekend

About five weeks ago I wrote a post entitled, Home Shopping Parties—Love ‘Em or Hate ‘Em, in which I decided to throw one of my own. Having very little free time and even less time to socialize with my friends, I actually enjoy the occasional home shopping party. The problem is, I don’t really need much stuff…so even though I once sold Tupperware (and maybe because of that), I really don’t need any more. Ditto knick-knacks; although my home really isn’t fully furnished or decorated, so I might be persuaded. Pampered Chef, sorry, I don’t need any more kitchen gadgets.

I am partial to CAbi (Carol Anderson by invitation) because , similar to the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, in which one pair of jeans fits four very different teen bodies, CAbi designs are highly tailored to fit in each and every size they sell them in. So, no, my friends and I can’t trade around the same pair of pants, but we could each buy them in our own size and look just as nice in them. So, I was excited when my friend invited me to a CAbi party…but it turned out to be the day before my Silpada party. I just had a home shopping party weekend!

When I went to the clothing party, I knew I would like more items than I could afford, but that’s normal. The thing that bothered me most was that I wanted to buy something that would fit me now and still fit me as I continue to lose weight. I’m doing well with my weight-loss, but I still am not down an entire size. So, what do I do? I’m currently in-between sizes. I’ve often bought clothes that “almost” fit with the intention of losing weight and wearing them, only to fail. This time, however, I know I am on the right path and I am losing weight and will continue to do so.

As I watched the presentation, I wondered what would fit me. I wasn’t too happy…more like depressed. After the presentation I found several items in the size down from what I’ve previously bought in this brand and headed to a bedroom to try them on. To my surprise, the smaller sizes either fit or were only a bit snug. My depression lifted instantly! I judiciously added a few pieces to coordinate with pieces bought over the last two years. I can’t wait for them to arrive and for them to fit my newly slimmer profile!

As for my own party, I did not end up doing a massive de-cluttering of my home nor any minor home improvement projects. As a matter of fact, I didn’t even plan out the menu until I got to the local market a few hours before the party. I ended up buying fresh spinach, dried cherries, crumbled blue cheese, and freshly sliced mushrooms. With some bacon and hard-cooked eggs, I had a spinach salad bar. I got a chunk of cheddar and another of Guda and some crackers. I picked up some cashews and chocolate covered pretzel bits, and then turned to the wine. It turned out that the market had their own, branded wine; a red and a white blend made in-state of wine from local wineries. I’m happy to support my local economy, so this was a great fit. My older daughter had picked up some spinach dip and red peppers, and got them ready.

After a long walk and a shower, I got out an old dress-up outfit…a sleeveless black tunic and matching black pull-on pants. I was surprised that they fit, but they did. I thought this was the perfect backdrop for a few pieces of silver jewelry. When the consultant arrived, with a very extensive collection, I picked out a few pieces to wear to show-off the line. It is my hope to get enough orders to allow me to afford a really nice piece to donate to my favorite charity.

My friends arrived. We all looked at the beautiful, sterling-silver jewelry. One friend thanked me for offering healthy, tasty food. I laughed; when I’m on a diet, so is everyone who eats at my home! Meanwhile, my younger daughter ate about half of the hard-cooked eggs and a goodly portion of cheese. She also ate two servings of spinach salad…I guess she’s still growing. She is within a hair of being taller than her big sister, and I always knew she would end up taller than her.

My guests slowly left…my oldest friends last. I put away the leftover food and my daughters and I talked about what a lovely quiche we could make from the remnants.

Find the Joy in the Journey…find your own way to stay connected with, and enjoy time with, your friends!

Girlfriends

I’ve been thinking about friendship a lot lately, mostly about girlfriends, because although I know a lot of great men, mostly through work or through my husband, I maintain a professional, if caring distance. Early in my career, I would sometimes go to lunch with a fellow worker…and was shocked to be advised that I should never go out to lunch alone with a man because rumors would fly. I thought that was ridiculous and I’m not much for paying attention to such…but in the long run I have followed the path of going out to lunch in groups rather than alone with another man. I guess it’s just a way to be more clear, not just to the observers, but to each other as well. After all, my motive has always been one of friendship, not romance. But, anyway, women friends are easier.

As a young child, I made friends easily, but when we moved between my Kindergarten and first grade years, I went through years of bullying that made me distance myself from the importance of girlfriends and maybe colors my feelings to this day. I met another girl on my new street that was my age and we became fast friends…until first grade started and it became apparent that the class bully had already claimed her as her best friend and I became the enemy.

Middle school was, well, middle school. High school was better. But all along I longed to be off on my own. I look back now and I have a few girlfriends from high school, several from college, maybe one (whom I’ve seen once in all these years) from graduate school…and tons from work, where I’ve been for 22 years. But, the common theme in these friendships is that I rarely see these women and yet when I do…it’s like we just saw each other yesterday. It’s a wonderful, magical thing. But, it’s different from other friendships I see around me that are more immediate and day-to-day. Sometimes I envy these types of friendships, wonder if I’m incapable of having them…but sometimes I think I’ve just filtered out the “friendships” that really aren’t all they are cracked up to be.

I found this World of Psychology website and its article, 10 Types of Female Friends by Therese J. Borchard. Frankly, of the ten, only two appeal to me and I think that my friends fit into these two categories. The eight I don’t relate to are: The Leader, The Doormat, The Sacrificer, The Misery Lover, The User, The Frenemy, The Trophy Friend, and The Sharer. The two I can relate to are The Mirroring Friend and The Authentic Friend.

The article defines The Mirroring Friend as:

The mirroring friend has an identity that resonates with our own. So we are drawn to her, even if we aren’t the same exact kind of friend ourselves; it is the mirroring aspect of the equation that makes it work. Our mirroring friends want to be with us in good times and bad with their matching joys and sorrows … and are able to provide great solace.

And, The Authentic Friend as:

The authentic friend is the one we are in search for, a woman who has a high tolerance for her friend’s entanglements and is deeply committed to the relationship. This relationship makes it worth all the ups and downs inherent in female friendship, and operates on mutual self-esteem, care, and flexibility. This is the friend who reinvents her role and adapts as friendships alter with time; she also remains steadfast with the patterns that have succeeded over the years.

I have a work friend of only two years who delights me. She isn’t the same kind of friend as me and has tons of other closer friends…but I’d say we are “mirroring friends”. I recently moved from a cubicle 10 feet from her to one 20 feet from her…so we no longer overhear each other’s conversations and butt in with our own comments.  The other day I saw her down the hallway coming towards me and she made a gesture to say, wow, I never see you anymore. When we got closer she declared, “I never see you anymore! I feel like we got divorced!” Can you see why I adore this girl?

I had a recent experience with one of my “authentic friends” which mostly showcases my own insecurities, but also the enduring nature of old friendships. I hadn’t seen her in ages even though in the past we’d have each other’s families over at least twice a year and she and her husband are my youngest daughter’s Godparents.  The fact that my husband has a job that keeps him away from home frequently was a major impediment, but I’d carved out some dates when he was sure to be home. I called her one night and got her voicemail. I left a happy message about wanting to get together. I didn’t hear from her and wondered what was up. I checked her calendar at work and saw that she was around. My husband assured me that it wasn’t like her to ignore my message. I knew this deep in my heart…yet I worried. I called again and left another up-beat message….still nothing.

So, about ten days after my first message, I called her at work when I could see from her calendar that she was free.  She was so delighted to hear from me and it was immediately apparent that she hadn’t gotten either of my voicemails. She and her husband and their children came over for dinner last weekend. We all had such a wonderful time catching up and just relaxing with old and dear friends. Our children, even though they hadn’t seen each other in at least three years, were thick as thieves right away and when they left, their eldest daughter hugged my husband and me goodbye…such a dear, genuine, and touching gesture!

I once read an interview of Sally Field where she said something that really touched me. Of course, I can’t find a reference to it when I need it! But the gist of it was to take what your friends can give and not expect more from them…to love them for who they are rather than resent that they aren’t the “perfect” friend by your own definition. It was an “aha” moment for me…meaning that I wasn’t a chump for being friends with erstwhile fair-weather friends…that it was ok to love them for their fair-weather support and forgive them unconditionally for their lack of support otherwise. It’s a place where I hope my friends place me when I’m going through my own challenges.

Find the Joy in the Journey and cherish your girlfriends, no matter how infrequently you get together!