Book group and beyond

As I was leaving book group the other afternoon I told my hostess friend that I’m always glad I come.  Even when my schedule is tight and I’m late. Even when I haven’t read the book. Even when only a handful of us can make it. Even when we all bring dessert.  Because it rejuvenates me.  And reminds me of how much I love to read.  And inspires me to do it a little more.

I’ve been in a few different book clubs over the years.  One was when I was first married and living in Illinois with just a newborn in tow.  The women were older and decidedly smarter, but I was drawn to these word-loving medical- and physics-students’ wives, teachers, and students with advanced degrees, solid women who preferred mulling over ideas to discussing diapers and nap time schedules.  I was in my element as we spent our evenings talking about literature and life.  Even as I felt a little like the kid being read to by her mother, illiterate and mesmorized.  But I stayed with it and basked in their collective wisdom.

When we moved here nearly 18 years ago, one of the first things I did was seek another.  I found one through Barnes and Noble and it morphed into a little band that ended up meeting for about seven years.  These were more of the same: well-informed, articulate, broad-thinking, amazing women who became like sisters.  I matured from our discussions and interactions and feel like I became a more reflective person because of the time we spent together.  

I’ve joined a couple others over the years with similar outgrowth, just incredible women who have pushed me to contemplate, who continue to test my theories, who enjoy the exchange of views as much as I do. My reasoning for aligning myself with these various women has been a desire to mingle with introspective thinkers who want to talk about ideas.  I knew we’d at least have a passion for reading in common, but I honestly hoped to broaden my perspective on life in general. As a young mom, it was such a pleasure to use my mind a little after leaving the college environment.  And over the years I’ve learned so much from my interaction with intelligent women through thought-provoking conversations, not to mention the exposure I’ve had to books I probably wouldn’t have chosen myself.

I told my friend as we were parting from our recent lunch meeting, that it’s a little like going to church on Sunday.  Sure we all miss occasionally.  I nearly always come a little unprepared and a bit sheepish about what I have to offer, but it feels so good when I make the effort to go. It’s comforting to be with my familiar people.  Fulfilling in an old-fashioned sense.  It reminds me of how grateful I am for our faith that unites us.  And our time together inspires me to be a little better.  I’ve thought about how book group and my Sunday church time are alike in this way.  I’ve kept at both of them for years because of my basic love for both reading and Christ.  But I’m impressed with how gathering together enhances this allegiance. 

A good friend made the point in his recent talk that an enjoyable part of going to church is the chance to mingle and become friends with those whose paths wouldn’t normally cross with ours.  Churches inevitably attract a wide assortment of personalities and people with varied life experiences.  How valuable! How enriching!  He helped me recognize how many people have made an impression on me, who have taught me and inspired me over the years, folks I most likely wouldn’t have met and become friends with any other way.  That’s the thing.  We believe, at first glance, the only thing we’ll have in common with the people in our calligraphy or sewing class will be our aspiration to learn a new skill.  But wait!  You already know what happens, whenever we spend time with others, we inevitably discover that we’ve got way more in common than we first thought.  And that’s part of the beauty of associating with people outside of our typical and familiar circles.

So while my incentive for participating in both church and book groups stems from my desires to learn and to worship, I’m grateful for the opportunities both have provided to become friends with people who on the surface appear to be very different from each other in most ways.  And yet, over the years, we have become close friends.  While we know she won’t be reading our historical fiction selection and they all know I’ll bow out of our fantasy book for the month, we’re good.  We have created a strong bond by simply meeting regularly and sharing our lives with each other.

Attendance at a book group, church, art class, volleyball practice, professional conference, band performance, the gym, whatever, has the potential to inspire. And it’s more than the activity itself we’re going for; it’s also the people we’re associating with.  Of course we could exercise at home in the basement (guilty), read scriptures under a tree, watch business videos independently or play the harp to ourselves. But consorting with others who share our passions inspires us and lifts us in a way independence simply can’t.  The togetherness has a way of elevating the activity experience.

I guess it just reawakened something in me as I left book group that cold snowy afternoon after only a couple of hours with dear friends. I stretched and came to life as my inner self reminded me how much I love to read; I vowed to make it more of a priority in the upcoming month.  But more than those rekindled feelings, it reminded me how much I love sharing my life with women I have come to regard so highly and cherish so deeply.  And so I think there’s power in gathering.  Whether it’s to cook or quilt, discuss or serve, I’m grateful for the regular opportunities we all have to fan the embers of our hobby passions and to be warmed by the companionship of like-minded travelers who have the potential to become some of our truest friends.