Up until four years ago, I think it is safe to say I was only ever friends with people my own age. The fuel of school and university friends can get you a long way in life, without needing to add any extra. I have had precious chapters where I have crossed paths with a wise, older ladies. Before having my boys, I lived in Northern Thailand for a year and I would have coffee every Sunday with two divorced American ladies in their sixties. They had found independence later in life and had chosen to use it helping kids on the Thai/Burma border, riding mopeds and learning to cook Pad Thai. I learnt so much from them. But I don't think I thought of them as friends. I wouldn't presume to be an equal to such brilliance.
Four years ago we moved to a small village in Surrey. Within days, three different people had knocked on our door with wine and invitations to the pub. My city friends would grimace at the thought of this - comfortable with anonymity and privacy. I was on the fence but now I'm firmly in the village garden and I'll tell you why. The beauty of village friends is they are all different ages but within five minutes of meeting them, that doesn't even register. I was in a literal village garden yesterday, at an annual drinks-fest organised by a gorgeous couple who are well into their retirement. As I stood amongst the phenomenal flower beds, (I was going to attempt to name some of the flowers but won't embarrass myself) I watched my four year old being taught darts by a ten year old, I watched my other half animatedly discussing Tonka toys with a 72 year old and I was learning about the pitfalls of thirteen year old sons from another neighbour.
There was no competition, no life comparison, no pressure - pure enjoyment of other people's stories and experiences. Incidentally, it isn't just age that varies in our village gang, the bank balances are pretty diverse too (us being the poor relations). Again, not a problem - everyone looks out for each other, enjoys the occasional Sunday walk, the odd night at the pub, and the joy that is waving to at least four friendly faces on the way to the local shop. These regular meet-ups have taught me a lot about friendship and have reminded me of Kahlil Gibran's lovely quote, "Friendship is always a sweet responsibility, never an opportunity." Towards the end of my thirties, it seemed a lot of people my age were willing to talk to you merely to gauge whether you were going to be of use to them in some way. I was probably guilty of that too but it is always a good thing to be reminded to look for our responsibilities to others rather than opportunities for ourselves.
I must admit that it isn't just older, wiser folk that we have the pleasure of living near. We are now officially in our forties and the young, fresh-faced thirty-somethings are moving in around us. The beauty of this is that I now have people to call on to ask about the best place to have a dance and people that know about rhododendrons. (Obviously, while also thinking about my responsibilities to them such as loaning out slow cookers and passing on garden toys as needed..) The upshot is, I want you to take a moment to consider: how many of your friends are from entirely different age groups to you? If the answer is not many, I urge you to tap into this unwrapped treasure. Join a new group, start one yourself or, if all else fails, come join our village. We're the ones with W.B Yeats' words over the entrance; "There are no strangers here; only friends you haven't met yet."
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