Behold, I Call you Friend

Cups of hot coffee and slices of leftover carrot cake circle the unadorned table, but it is the people sitting along the edges who make me pause, and give thanks. It is the quintessential morning-after ritual. We talk of nothing and everything as the morning stretches out into the burgeoning day. There are no plans, or schedules to keep, just undiluted time to memorialize the festivities of the night before. It was a bold and beautiful celebration of our dear friends 60th birthday but truthfully it was so much more. These are the people I chose to surround myself with on a regular basis. The people who have become my tribe. When we celebrate one, we celebrate all, because "no man is an island, entire of itself, every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main." John Donne 

Here we are, decked out in wrinkled pajamas, massive bedhead, unbrushed teeth, free of the masks we normally wear. When I take a mental step back I marvel at the laughter, story, and guardianship of the table talk. "Few delights can equal the mere presence of one who we trust utterly," says George MacDonald. I drop the fortress around my heart, I'm vulnerable, open, and ever so grateful for the sanctuary of friendship. For me this is a top ten moment for 2016. I can't be the only one keeping a list? 

Amy Chan says, "If you want to know someone, just look at who they choose to spend their time with." I give that a hardy amen. As I move begrudgingly into middle-age, I am aware that my time has become a precious commodity, if not to the world, at least to me. You might wonder what the hell do people my age actually do? Turns out we're not retiring as early as our parents (college tuition much), we're fairly active in our Autumn years, embarking on second careers, watching grandchildren, blogging, taking care of aging parents, and falling deeper into the embrace of old friendships. They call us the sandwich generation for a reason and that's not just because we like to eat. 

"Every decision we make changes things. The people we befriend, the examples we set, the problems we solve..." Seth Godin. The clock continues ticking as the decades of raising kids, chasing the dream, juggling mortgage payments, remaking ourselves, and our marriages have slipped away. As the past increases, the future recedes, and we begin to realize we only have today. Katherine Anne Porter says, "the past is never where you think you left it," because it landed on Facebook or some other form of social media. These new technologies have changed the way we maintain relationships with people from our past, present, and future. I don't know if this is a good thing or bad? Maybe I don't need to keep in touch with my entire high school cheer-leading squad, an incarcerated college roommate who wants to make amends, or the supervisor who fired me from my first job? I'm alarmed by the images of your perfect white teeth flashing across my screen, a video of your cat eating a lizard head-first, or a disastrous future if I fail to re-post. To stalk, or not to stalk, that is the new question.

My dirty little secret, the people around me have an enormous impact on my identity and self-esteem. When you view me through a wider lens I too can see my full potential, but the people who only notice my failings, are simply not worthy of my time. I'm not sure if it was ignorance or immaturity that seduced me into keeping toxic people around for so long. It took more than half a century but I'm finally learning how to maintain healthy boundaries and choose my friends wisely. Courtney Martin writes, "deliberately making friends with people that we deeply admire, people that make us laugh our asses off, people that push us to be more ourselves, is an under-appreciated and radical act in this culture of performance and reverence for the wrong gods." 

I think it was Jesus himself who coined the phrase "Behold, I call you friend." Only a true friend can call you out on your own shit and still make you feel loved. I trust the wisdom of those I travel with in this life, I receive forgiveness I don't deserve, and validation I greatly appreciate. Rumi says, "Each one of us is a jackass with wings of angels tacked on." Lucky for my friends I tend to save my jackass for driving in traffic and dealing with health insurance. (There may be more scenarios but who's counting?) 

A final 2016 top ten moment and I'll leave you to browse Facebook. It was a cool evening, there were about sixteen of us gathered around a pizza oven, in the backyard of a dear friend. I looked up as our hostess clanked her fork against a glass to get our attention, she said, "It warms my heart to see all you young people gathered on our patio, (On how I love that someone in this world still calls me young) because I know my children have chosen their friends wisely, and it comforts me to know you will be here for them long after I am gone," Ginger holds up her glass of wine, "to good friends." My eyes well up with tears. Her kind words nurture her guests so much more than food.

"Just as many wise spiritual teachers have argued that our thoughts beget our actions, I would argue that our friends beget our culture. They become the force we measure ourselves against, the source of so much of our joy and courage. They are our respite, and our welcomed responsibility. And all that choosing makes for a very rich life," Courtney Martin. 

Haven't had enough? Come visit me at Living in the Gap 

I'm Attached to Summer Like Fat to a Belly

The fall semester is officially launched, but like fat to a belly, I remain staunchly attached to the remnants of summer. I refute the evidence like a seasoned lawyer even though my pigment is in an all-out fade.  According to Newsweek it is time to ditch the bikini shave, trash the Tory Burch flip flops, and tuck those skimpy Danskin Active shorts in the bottom drawer. I’m in such a snit over the shifting sun, the dog has decided to avoid me, and saunters out of the room like some canine elitist. We’ll see how that attitude holds up to an empty food bowl. I’m lounging on the couch refusing to acquiesce to a stack of papers in need of grading with my arm draped dramatically over my forehead. When the hell did I become such a drama queen? I wine (I prefer this version of the word) to the empty room as the wind slides through the open window and sends my calendar, papers, and lists fluttering to the hardwood floor. 

I casually glance down at the calendar now open to December and realize in 114 days it will be Christmas. I really need to order that florescent light that relieves anxiety and figure out google calendar. My dog decides to rest on my insuperable pile of papers. I see the grocery list peeking out from under his belly as he slobbers on my list of resolutions (none of which have been resolved), and slaps my lengthy to-do list with his tail. The list of students I’ve yet to memorize lands at my feet. Complete fail. I need my therapist, but like the sparrow, she migrated to Florida. Hello, I have issues. 

Did I mention Mary will be giving birth to the Christ child in 114 days? I decide to pretend it is still summer and attempt to fish my flip flops out of the kitchen garbage. Maybe I should listen to an Oprah meditation, I have several downloaded on my iPhone, and yes it calms me to know they are there even if I never actually meditate. I’m starting to hyperventilate over Christmas lights, black Friday, and whether or not the Amazon drone will be able to find my house. Not that I care, but our robotic reindeer had a thing for inflatables, and took off with the neighbor’s snowman last year. Who am I to judge?

Just when I’m about to leap off the proverbial cliff I hear a car in the drive. I peek through the kitchen window because if it’s a Jehovah Witness I just might join. But no, like a pro basketball player I toss those flip flops back in the can, and sprint to the front door screaming, “There is a God!” It’s my sister Nancy sauntering up the drive, a steaming Starbucks in each hand, she comes bearing gifts like a wise woman. Welcome back pumpkin spiced white mochas, good-bye annoying tan lines, and thank you God for belly fat that keeps it real.

Have you fallen out of summer yet? Do tell...

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