Truth in Tostados

"T o live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all." ~ Oscar Wilde

I am many things to many people, but not a one of them can stand it when I get low.

My natural tendency is toward optimism; the glass is always half full if you ask me.

I wake up raring to go and I rarely turn down a chance to do something that sounds interesting.

Even so, my state of mind had been wavering in a much lower place than usual for a few months now.

To be frank, I felt dangerously close to just existing.

Friends noticed and didn't like it, but had no idea what to do about it.

My mother expressed concern about the absence of my sunny side and strongly suggested online dating, as if that would do the trick.

And while I have several close friends who found love online, I knew that wasn't likely to be the solution to what ailed me.

Instead I went back to doing what I do best: living my life in the way that makes me happiest. Doing the things that matter to me.

But I also started reaching out beyond my usual circle and including some of the people I've known in the past but hadn't spent much time with lately.

Sometimes it backfired and I was sorry I hadn't gone out alone as usual, but sometimes the company was exactly the Rx I needed to return to fully enjoying myself.

Turns out I was lonely and just needed more company more often.

As practiced as I am at living life, I am a highly social creature and had been spending way too much time in my own company.

So there you have it.

Instead of sharing details of my dinner (Pescado's China Street), my companion (a friend for only the past couple of years), what we talked about (moving, admission of feelings, travel) and what happened around us, I offer a rumination on my life.

Merely existing might be easier, but I can't imagine it would be nearly as satisfying.

How's that for oblique?