Lesson number one

A great deal of my life has been spent apologizing - or at least feeling like I should be apologizing. Now admittedly, there have probably been a lot of things that, if I am honest, should have been apologized for, so this is not entirely an out-of-line self conception to have. Just like twelve-step says: when you are wrong, promptly admit it and try to make amends.

There is, however, one habit I have had for many years, and I no longer am interested in apologizing for it. In fact, I would like to encourage more of my friends, or the people I meet, or the readers of this blog (or any combination of the above) to take up this habit as well. I cannot recommend it highly enough. I will admit, I used to feel like I should apologize for this, but no longer.

I am talking about lunch.

Actually, not lunch per se. Rather, lunch with interesting people. Regularly. Weekly, if not more. Not a rushed, sit-down-get-up sort of affair, either. Leisurely. Long stretches of ideas and conversations. Two hour lunches.

I used to indulge this pleasure furtively - once a month or so. It felt so decadent to just, you know, sit with someone and simply enjoy the company and the conversation. It would feel strange to see tables around us fill and empty and fill again as we sat and enjoyed time together.

2008, however, was a turning point. Maybe it is because I see my middle age coming fast upon me (my birthday, right around the corner, inches me closer to 40 every second). Perhaps it is because I have finally given up on small talk - the kind of vapid shallowness that keeps people invulnerable and at a safe social distance from one another.

Maybe, at the end of the day, it was finally reconciling myself to the fact that I am a loquacious bastard: I have a well-developed vocabulary and vast, disconnected interests. For many years I felt compelled most of all to apologize for this - for the fact that some people do not follow the connections I make or understand the words I use, or especially because I do not seem to have the interests many others have in sports or television or the lives of celebrities.

What I have discovered, over these years, is that there are individuals who do follow my thoughts, understand my style of speech and vocabulary, and who are themselves robust in their brilliance and fascinating to talk to. And I guess it took me a long time to figure out that these are the people I should be focusing on - not the many who will find me confusing or a chore to speak to.

So I abandoned all hope, and entered the world of leisurely lunches.

What I have discovered is that I was never that smart by myself. I am smart (and exponentially smarter) when I interact with interesting, smart people. I learn things, discover things about myself and about them and about the world. I am, slowly but surely, becoming a good listener (I have always been a good, if occasionally banal, talker). I find I like the listening better, honestly. Interesting people are interesting. Moreover, I am discovering that, given time, even many people who are not interesting are interesting, if given time and encouragement.

So now I am shameless. I have a wonderful wife who loafs for hours with me, talking about all sorts of things. I have a dear friend with whom I have a standing lunch date once a week, and we have been meeting now for over three years. I go out of my way to meet friends for coffee, and have made amazing discoveries about the world and my life in the process. I am not exaggerating when I say that, on more than one occasion, lunch has saved my life, or at least my sanity.

The world will tell you not to indulge. The world will tell you to rush, to keep the "fast" in the food. Do not listen. Take time in huge gobs and spend it lavishly on people who feed you - spiritually, emotionally, intellectually. Even as you feel ashamed or sheepish at first, persevere. There is no substitute for quality relationships and friendships that touch your soul - money will not substitute, nor will fame, nor your own carefully-constructed self-aggrandizement (nor mine). People who are worth your time are simply worth lots and lots of your time.

To the many friends who have expanded my life and my soul with the generosity of themselves and their company for vast and leisurely hours, I thank you. I am the better, always, because of you. Thank you.