8 ball in the corner pocket

within the past year, i've played pool twice. each game has taught me that, simply put, i suck at it. and while my usual attitude is to give up if i can't get it right the first time (as with ice skating and downhill skiing), my losses in pool only make me want to get better.

so last night, kat, abby, courtney and i dropped by the echoing chambers of the gingerman tavern on clark for some billiards. my guess is that the 10" of snow cover kept the regulars home last night, but whatever the reason, it left us two tables to choose from and gave me the freedom to get comfortable (i.e. look like an idiot) with the game.

roommates squared off against roommates, and kat and i were beaten pretty badly and quite easily. i practiced my pathetic skills on the remaining two striped balls, failed miserably, and tried batting at them with the cue until abby eventually knocked them in with her hand so we could be done and save everyone the embarrassment of being seen with me.

with half a beer to down yet, the four of us took a seat near the towering christmas tree lit up with small pink lights and silver bells. two hours later, we were wrapping up the best conversation of 2005.

i have to admit, i love it when a small group of people start talking about REAL things, REAL heart/mind/soul stuff. and last night, i felt like each of us brought something unique to the table - a viewpoint, a concern, a revelation, a question; whatever it was, we were safe with each other to express things that we've been taught are too dangerous to really consider, too difficult to grapple with, too uncomfortable to discuss.

the whole conversation felt like a really good pool game. everyone playing, taking a stab at something, carefully watching where the speaker moves the conversation, and responding in their own turn. it never felt like someone was speaking just to speak, but we were purposeful in identifying with each other, hearing each other out, and responding as prompted. sometimes i wish you could just bottle up conversations like those and pour them out on ones that aren't working as well.

last night, i walked away feeling how i had dreamed i might had i been the one to call the 8 ball in the corner pocket.

surprised. and satisfied.