Rock On

Someone once told me that life was like a jar you needed to fill.

First, you put in the big rocks. Then the gravel. Then the sand. If you do it the other way around, nothing fits. The lesson was simple: get your priorities straight.

For years I thought I knew what rocks looked like. Paying the rent on time. Making the deadlines. Moving house. Keeping the lights on. The stuff that keeps the jar looking full. The things you could point to on a checklist and claim to be successfully adulting.

But this weekend at Southampton Pride, I was reminded that my idea of rocks was wrong. I was there signing books as part of a queer author showcase, surrounded by colour and noise and vibrant hairstyles that I got jealous of, and I bumped into a couple of friends I hadn’t seen in years. It wasn’t planned, but it felt like something settling back into place. The kind of friendships where you pick up mid-sentence, where years dissolve in an instant.

And standing there, catching up, I realised something important: friendship isn’t the sand. It’s not the little filler that drifts into the gaps between “real” responsibilities. It isn't even the gravel. That's the rent, the bills, the things that stick uncomfortably in your shoe.

Friendship is, quite simply, a rock.

Because what good is a jar full of rent payments and utility bills if you’ve no one to laugh with about the ridiculousness of it all? What’s the point of cramming in gravel-sized obligations if the big stones of kindness, love, and connection are missing?

It's been a year-or-so of big life changes for me, with nothing moving as fast as I'd like it to, and things never quite lining up - all the while I've been head down, trying to keep the practicalities straight. And yes, those details matter.

But they’re not the foundation.

The real foundation is the people I can call at midnight when the world feels too heavy, or the ones who remind me who I am when I’ve forgotten. Even the ones who, after years, can give me a hug at an event and instantly settle back into laughing with.

Of course, rocks can crack. Life's waters run constant and deep. Rocks need attention, patience, work. They need to be held, and sometimes mended. But rocks are what make the jar worth filling in the first place.

So here’s my reminder to myself (and maybe to you, too): don’t mistake the gravel for the rocks. The big things aren’t always the loudest. Sometimes they’re just the quiet, steady presence of friendship that stands firm after half a decade or so.

And if it’s been a while since you reached out to an old friend, maybe this is your nudge to do it - especially if that old friend happens to be me.