Last week I scheduled drinks with a friend, and despite how much I was looking forward to being out of the house and spending time together, I found myself strangely shifty over the whole thing. I talked myself in and out of going throughout the afternoon, wondering whether I had the mental and emotional stamina to be present. Would I be able to string words together in coherent sentences? I had my doubts.

But evening came, and I went. We sat at the high-top table, sipping wine and swapping stories. Each of us grew increasingly heavy-eyed as the evening progressed, because while the conversation was good and filling, we both tired easily. By 8:30 pm, we parted ways—both satisfied and exhausted.

Does this story sound familiar? Tired of holding out and being held up by our years of pandemic, many of us are ready to reconnect, and yet we are not. We both crave and cringe at the thought of community. And when we do try, we are like toddlers first trying to stand, fumbling at best. Our relational stamina is not what it once was. (Or maybe we’re just more aware of our limits.)

The temptation is either not to try or dive in too-much-too-soon, and as communal creatures, we cannot survive either bloated or starved. Instead, we need to find a medium space and give ourselves permission to ease our way back in. We must allow ourselves to start small.

Toward that end, I put together a little list of ideas—ways to dip our toes back into the pool of belonging without fear of drowning. Yes, the suggestions may seem painfully simple (“Yeah, okay, Sarah….duh.”), but the reality is that even simplest steps can be difficult to practice, especially when we are out of shape. We have to start somewhere, and what better way than to get back to basics?

Okay, deep breaths. Here we go…

1. Send the text.

How often do we think about people throughout the course of the day? Individuals wander in and out of our minds. But what if, instead of letting the person go unnoticed, we sent a short text as a point of connection: “Hey. I thought of you today. How are you?”

It’s okay if it doesn’t turn into a full-fledged conversation. Who doesn’t like knowing they were thought of? Being seen and sought out is a gift. Plus sending a quick text gets us into the habit of not only paying attention but also responding to our communal minds.

2. Introduce yourself to someone new.

Whether you’re at work, school drop-off, or passing a neighbor on the sidewalk, consider saying hello to someone new. Offer your name, and ask them for theirs in exchange. I usually like to follow that up with, “Just so you know, I’m not great at remembering names, Judy. I might have to ask you again next time we see each other. You can feel free to do the same.” because 1) I am actually horrible at remembering names and 2) I remove not remembering as a barrier the next time we see each other. (“Oh gosh, what was her name?!? Judy? Janie? I better take the other sidewalk…”) There’s grace to begin again.

3. Write a note and send it in the actual mail.

You heard me. Paper. Pen. A stamp. There’s something very personal and sacred about sending something tangible to each other, something we can hold in our hands. Letters are a small but proven way to be human together. Plus who doesn’t like real, honest-to-goodness mail?

4. Drop off coffee, tea, or a treat.

I’ll never forget mid-pandemic when my friend Kathleen dropped off my favorite white cranberry cheddar cheese and some crackers—just because. She did not linger or force herself inside, but simply let me know I was seen and known. And let me tell you: every bite of that cheese tasted like love.

5. Meet up at a neutral place.

The idea of having people in our homes might feel overwhelming. Maybe we’re not ready for hosting quite yet. Instead, find a neutral space like a park, playground, or zoo to take a walk or let the kids or dogs play. That way, you can enjoy some time together without feeling pressure to hide the dirty dishes. (Short story: Ben and I once ran out of time and put a pile of dirty dishes in the oven before friends came over. We forgot about our stash of shame until the next day, about the time I started cooking dinner.)

6. Journey alongside others in prayer.

Being human can be a heavy burden for any of us to carry alone, but it’s easy for our personal conversations with God to center on what feels urgent to us. Daily, I feel my prayers drift back to myself. However, remembering each other as we talk with God not only helps us “keep our arrows outward” (as my mama used to say), but also eases the load as we learn to walk better beside each other.

7. Choose a book and gather to talk about it.

When you want to meet up but don’t know what to talk about, read a book together. One of the things that’s been saving me over the last year is sister book club. My sisters Laura and Emily and I have been taking turns picking fiction or memoir, and then we meet up over brunch once every couple months to talk about what we’ve read—what we liked, what we didn’t. It’s so simple, but also a life-giving way to prioritize connection.

8. Return to the vision.

As an introvert, I can easily talk myself into time alone. It doesn’t take much. However, I am also wired for relationships. Like you, I crave a place and a people, and that type of connection doesn’t just happen. One way I motivate myself to keep going, to keep pursuing a life of presence, is to remember the vision. Reading books or listening to podcasts that focus on the value found in relationships help me from turning in on myself (I share many of those resources in my weekly email).

Sometimes, it’s as simple as returning to Jesus’ prayer in John 17:20-26 and believing he is praying it over us still:

“I pray not only for these, but also for those who believe in me through their word. May they all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us, so that the world may believe you sent me. I have given them the glory you have given me, so that they may be one as we are one. I am in them and you are in me, so that they may be made completely one, that the world may know you have sent me and have loved them as you have loved me.

“Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I am, so that they will see my glory, which you have given me because you loved me before the world’s foundation. Righteous Father, the world has not known you. However, I have known you, and they have known that you sent me. I made your name known to them and will continue to make it known, so that the love you have loved me with may be in them and I may be in them.”

***

Yes, this list might seem simple, but in this season of awkward starts and fumbling first tries, perhaps simple is exactly what we need. Here’s to getting back out there.

Want to keep talking about how to be human together? I’d love for you to join my weekly email The Shelf, where every Monday you’ll get a short list of good things and a (longer) letter to end the month.

post feature image by Toa Heftiba via unsplash