In her book Living Alone and Loving It, author Barbara Feldon (of Agent 99 fame) talks about the importance of being a bridge builder if you want your circles to stay together. A bridge builder is the one in any group who stays in touch, initiates the first contact, makes arrangements for the concert or theater, gets everyone together and often keeps them from drifting apart. I've also heard these folks referred to as the Glue, as in "He's the glitter in that family, and she's the glue."
Those who naturally take on this role among family and friends usually relish it. By temperament they're often do-ers, oriented towards actions that produce results. Getting a new book club or art group organized is a little like starting a business, and people who do it regularly often have an entrepreneurial streak.
But sometimes even the most ambitious, outgoing or friendship-appreciating bridge builder gets tired. It may be especially discouraging if she finds herself making the arrangements over and over, or when she suddenly realizes that if it weren't for her efforts, the whole team would have gone down the tubes years ago. It's especially difficult in glitter-glue relationships, where the bridge builder may be doing all the hard unglamorous work while more high-profile friends or colleagues get all the kudos. When this happens, it's time for a holiday.
While I'm not exactly the effervescent go-getter that many bridge builders seem to be, I somehow found myself holding that position in several of my circles, all of which had been in a slow decline for 2-3 years. One day about five months ago I finally faced the fact that two of them were gone and not coming back. The members of a third kept professing that they missed everyone and really wanted to get going again, but they could never quite make it happen. I organized three different holiday gatherings (at coffee shops, so it didn't entail much hands-on work), felt tired and a little depressed when the last one was over, and threw in the towel on bridge building. If we were going to get together again, someone else would have to instigate it.
To keep myself from rushing into new involvements prematurely or launching half a dozen new meetups, I decided to take a full half-year off from any kind of initiating. During this time I'd do some deep thinking about exactly what I wanted, outside of my job and home life. I'd poll myself to see if I really wanted to finish that novel or if I'd been flogging away at it because I couldn't bear to leave my critique group. And whether the choral group that had disbanded was still fun and challenging, or if I'd stayed merely because nothing else was looming on the horizon.
Underneath all this lay an idea I'd read in a book by life coach Barbara Sher, who says, "By the way, if there's a lot of who missing from your life...get your show on the road and you'll find that other people will want parts in it." For me the most solid post-college friendships have originated with some type of group effort which I joined because I enjoyed or was intrigued by the activity itself. The friendships were a by-product.
For people like me, it would make no sense to choose any old class out of the community ed catalog or plunk down in the nearest seat at the neighborhood bar and expect to meet kindred spirits. If, like me, your deepest relationships come from sharing a common passion or purpose, the first step is to find that purpose.
For help with this, try the process in Sher's classic book Wishcraft. It may be almost 35 years old (in fact, the terms life coaching and personal coaching weren't even around back then - there weren't any labels for what Sher was doing!).
So that's my bridge-builder's holiday - deconstructing everything I've been doing during the past 15-20 years, seeing if it still fits and asking myself what I might like to try next. The process is slower than I'd like and is sometimes painful, but I'd recommend it to anyone at one of life's crossroads.
Currently my weekly round is a lot quieter than it used to be. Some people in midlife find that they enjoy the quietness that comes from disengaging, powering down or simplifying. I don't But I don't expect it will be that way forever. I try to see it as laying a foundation. Foundations look dull; the castle or cathedral on top gets all the attention. But without the foundation, the whole structure could collapse.
A good bridge builder knows the value of strong supports.
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