Productivity blogs I read have recently recommended that, in order to keep some balance, you make sure that you divide your life into several sectors (work, personal/private, social, health) and accomplish at least one goal from every category.  They’ve run features on the importance of social contact with at least one friend per day, and “tickling” social contacts who are at a distance… basically, ping them every so often to make sure they’re still responding.  To keep them friendly.  I had lunch with an old friend, one I’d not seen in almost seven years, and he told the story of how his former drummer had a long list of people, and would go through that list, calling each one to check in and say hello.  When he got to the end of the list, which could take a couple months, he’d start again at the top immediately.  “We had a place to stay in any city we went to,” he said.  “We never had to ask.  If they knew we were coming in town, they offered up their place.  That’s why they were on the list, sometimes.”

I think a lot of poets have this going on, too.  I do not.  I’m woeful at keeping in touch with the people who are important to me.  It feels like at any given time I’ll have about eight in my contact list that I’m a reasonable friend to and will reach out to.   And there will be a small handful who haven’t yet given up on me and will check in occasionally.  But I never feel like I have the mental space, the bandwidth, to keep up with all the people who are important to me.  The Facebooks and Twitters and all those other tools are useful, though with Facebook I don’t always see when people change status. (Twitter seems to be just about perfect for keeping in touch… which is why I have come to value it so.  I wish everyone would Twitter.)  So I’ll drift in and out– more out– of contact with good people.  And if/when people re-surface that I’m excited about hearing from, sometimes I still manage to blow the exchange in some way.  Sooner or later, the malaise strikes again, and I go underground, not responding to calls and e-mails unless they’re essential to surviving… like, I have to answer for work.

I almost wonder if I should do like my friend’s drummer did, get a list and just go through, checking it off, maybe even pruning it every so often if I’ve lost touch and find that it doesn’t bother me. It feels a little overdetermined, a little contrived.  But it would, at the very least, get me thinking about what and who is important to me. How… mechanical.  I never wanted my friends to be a contact database.  I’m not trying to make sure I have a couch to stay on if I come to town.

But I also think about the joy of hearing from those unexpected folks.  I’m not just talking about the surprise contact from high school who found me on Facebook or MySpace, though sometimes those are really fulfilling as well.  I’m talking about the people who mean a great deal, the ones who just drift and drift further if I let them, and eventually drift so far in the universe’s bizarre orbital pattern that they eventually come back around, and for a brief minute– an e-mail or a phone call or a chance encounter at the burrito place– they’re back in my life.  I want to keep them there.  I want to be a better friend than I am.  I got a LinkedIn invite today from someone I last heard from over three years ago… I remember, because it was the day before my wedding that I last heard a peep from this friend. Hey you– if you’re reading, I don’t ever want you to disappear again.