Seeketh not her own

The other day, I was talking to a friend of mine in the ward, who implied that the ward is kind of cliquish. Since I live in the part of the ward that could be considered the "cliquish" part (the part with the densest population of members), it kind of pricked my heart. I mean, it's great to have neighbors and friends so close by, but are we forming these relationships at the expense of others?

That conversation made me realize that I needed to be a better friend not only to her, but to a lot of people. Then I started thinking about people I felt "responsibility" over in the ward and in my life. My made-up definition for responsibility was "I should be doing things more with these people." Or, "If I made a bunch of cookies, these people might feel left out if I never gave them any." My list consisted of my immediate family, in-laws, those I visit teach and visit teach with, ward members who live by us (especially those in the same parking lot as us), non-member neighbors who I regularly interact with, people with kids the same age as Joseph, people who moved into the ward with little babies because I did that last year and it was the hardest thing ever, friends who don't have kids yet and might feel marginalized because our ward because is so kid-full, Kevin's home teachee in hospice, investigators, childhood friends I still keep up with, and Kevin. (Kevin would feel very left out if I made cookies and didn't give him any.) And then there's another group I still care a lot about but do very little for -- all the other people in the ward (especially kids in Primary), that grandma who walks around all the time who only knows how to say "Hello" in English, maintenance guys, friends from BYU, friends from high school, cousins, cousins-once-removed, etc.

So yeah. There are a lot of people to take cookies to. But honestly? I don't know that my heart is that big or that my cookies are that delicious. Although I crave social interactions because toddlers aren't the best conversationalists, I'm still an introvert at heart. Sometimes I just run out of questions to ask people. Sometimes I just feel awkward around people and would rather not reach out because I'm going to trip over my words or because I've got a child to chase around. Sometimes, I remember that charity "seeketh not her own" and I feel exhausted just not "seeking myself."

But the thing is, I know some of these people really do need good friends. Certainly not everyone needs social interactions all the time -- I still remember the time in high school when I was eating breakfast and was feeling surly because it was early and wanted to be left alone and a girl sat down next to me and said "You look like you need a friend!" and it took all my self-control to be friendly back -- but in general, I think people appreciate and even need friends. Some people really are too nauseous from morning sickness to cook for themselves. Some people really are feeling incredibly homesick. And so I continue to try, even though I don't know how much my inconsistent efforts help. (At any rate, they can sometimes keep me from being self-absorbed, which I suppose is a lofty goal in and of itself.)

So, how do people do it? How are some people friendly and inclusive to everyone? How do you take care of the people you know you ought to take care of but not neglect other friendships? If you do take the time to be friends with everyone, how do you form strong friendships instead of dozens of weak ones? How do you avoid being cliquish, especially when you find people you really get along with?

And on a related note, do you think being extroverted is an important part of being a member of the Church?