Meredith’s Musings | Expand the Circle

article by MEREDITH MCKINNIE

I’m entering one of my restless periods, where I crash out on routine and crave stimulation and surprise. I’m reacting like I normally do, abandoning anything that feels normal or familiar and diving into the unknown. I’ve shaken up my workouts, my meals, my afternoon schedule, my reading habits, my work hours – you name it, it’s been altered. I’ve also expanded my friend group, welcoming old acquaintances back into the mix and reaching out to those in a similar stage of life. While routines can feel comforting in the chaos of life, sometimes I bring the chaos on purpose, rejecting complacency with the vigor of a woman in her mid-forties.

Within that context, I accepted an invitation for a spur of the moment beach trip, a quick two-day turnaround that responsible Meredith would have declined. Additionally, I knew only two of the six women, and only one well. I love meeting new people, but prefer to dip my toe in one social gathering at a time. Committing to two days of nonstop togetherness felt sufficiently out of the comfort zone, so I leaped at the chance. As the departure date approached, I found myself excited and nervous. I love getting away, but typically opt for my own room and at-home comforts. I’ve convinced myself I’m too old and settled for surprises. But the truth is, I’m just cranky from cranking that same routine. 

On the drive over, I started getting nervous. Would they like me? Would I fit in? Am I too old to make new friends? Would I seem like an impostor in this established friend group? Or was this just the discomfort I needed? You guessed it, the discomfort proved to be the best medicine. For the next two days, I laughed until I cried at new jokes, navigated new social dynamics, showed just enough of myself to not scare anyone away, and leaned into existing on the margins of this established social circle. I didn’t have to lead; I could just be. And the weightlessness of existing in a new space with new faces enriched my soul. It was the longest weekend I’ve had in years and in the best way. We shopped, and not in a hurry. We lingered over a long lunch, ordering another bottle of wine because we had nowhere to be. We walked down to the water, so cold we only let the it graze our knees, adjusting to the temperature as we adjusted to each other. For the first time in a long time, I was completely present, thinking of no one or nowhere else. Where I was standing was exactly where I wanted to be. 

I learned that an hour convo with someone I met hours prior can be just as fulfilling, if not more so, than a similar conversation with a friend of twenty years. In some ways, it was more stimulating because I hadn’t had it before. I learned new phrases, new interests, tickled new taste buds, and sat, really sat, without fidgeting. I didn’t have an agenda; I didn’t need one. I sat in the back of the car with the wind on my face and breathed deep…over and over again. I spoke when spoken to and genuinely laughed from the belly. No one needed anything from me, as all of my tethers remained back home. I felt light, as if the breeze might just sweep me away gracefully. And I’d let it.

While this trip counts as “travel” in the traditional sense, this step outside the bubble traveled me outside of myself. I found another version, a lighter Meredith, lingering in the shadows. I refuse to settle into myself or accept that my best days are behind me. It’s easy to slip into that thinking in the confines of routine. To the ladies who welcomed me in, thank you. Your voices will forever resonate with waves crashing against the shore.