Meeting

A vase of magnolias in full bloom are the focus of the room. Placed on a low table on the dusty, well-worn plywood floor, they may be the most beautiful part of the scene. The walls alternate between bare beige brick and 1970s plywood paneling. One of the brick walls contains evenly space windows looking onto the house next door, while the other obviously used to have windows, which were boarded over in an expansion years ago. The room is all exposed beams and flat, even lighting.

On the benches surrounding the vase, nondescript people sit, mostly away from all others, quietly waiting. These are plain people, wearing jeans cut for a different decade and faded flower prints. A man stands, all attention turning to him, rapt. He starts to speak about friends, money, and flowers. His realizations are absorbed by people with closed eyes, people watching anxiously, and people who seem to be looking at nothing at all. He closes, nearly in tears with desire to see long dead friends, but knowing that no amount of money can help the desire. As he sits, the room again falls silent, each person absorbed in their own spiritual struggle, alone, but together.

I went to Quaker meeting today. I'm not really looking to find God, but churches seem to be the only place concerned with community. The Quakers generally share a lot of my ideals and beliefs, except for the religious ones. They were welcoming, but it was still a daunting experience. I long for a community where I can blend into the crowd for a time until I feel comfortable distinguishing myself from the masses. I want people to share common goals, but at the same time remain individuals. I wonder if this kind of community exists.