Friends
I was just hit with a moment of contentment. Those are so wonderful. I was throwing away my teabag (roastaroma) and realized that I have a lot of friends. Who I really like. I do different things with different friends. And I enjoy this variety. I like that I have friends to watch movies with, friends to drink roastaroma tea with, friends to walk with, friends to run with if I again am a runner at some point, friends to laugh so loudly with that we're known by the sound of our laughter, friends to travel with, friends to travel to, friends to have coffee with, friends to work with, friends to discuss books with, friends to knit with, friends to play Spanish Drinking Scrabble with... the list could go on.
But what I realized in this moment of contentment is that I really do have enough. This past year and a half has been unique in my life in that I have spent a lot of time alone. I have lived alone. I have not had one person (i.e. best friend or boyfriend) who I spent every possible second with and told every tiny detail to. And I've been mourning that.
But what I realized in this moment of contentment is that what I have is perhaps better. Because I have dozens of people I've spent time with. And dozens of people who have shared many important life details with me. And dozens of details that I've enjoyed alone. And that's okay, too.
What I realized in this moment of contentment is that maybe I should stop focusing on what I think I don't have and notice that I actually have so much more.
This upcoming ankle surgery has been bringing this issue to my mind a lot lately. I'm slightly terrified about being lonely and helpless after surgery. (I just took a 40 minute break in the middle of typing that sentence because a new and very dear friend just called, and among other sweet and wonderful things she told me that she and her family will absolutely bring me dinner and milkshakes and pick me up and take me to their house and surround me with love and tenderness after my surgery and for how ever long I need afterwards.) I won't be able to drive for awhile. Like, a month or two. What does that mean? Well, no work, for one. Being totally dependent, for another. Right now, after that contentment and realization and after that wonderful phone call - I'm really trusting that I'll be taken care of, I'll learn what I'm meant to learn here, and I'll keep being blessed.
But what I realized in this moment of contentment is that I really do have enough. This past year and a half has been unique in my life in that I have spent a lot of time alone. I have lived alone. I have not had one person (i.e. best friend or boyfriend) who I spent every possible second with and told every tiny detail to. And I've been mourning that.
But what I realized in this moment of contentment is that what I have is perhaps better. Because I have dozens of people I've spent time with. And dozens of people who have shared many important life details with me. And dozens of details that I've enjoyed alone. And that's okay, too.
What I realized in this moment of contentment is that maybe I should stop focusing on what I think I don't have and notice that I actually have so much more.
This upcoming ankle surgery has been bringing this issue to my mind a lot lately. I'm slightly terrified about being lonely and helpless after surgery. (I just took a 40 minute break in the middle of typing that sentence because a new and very dear friend just called, and among other sweet and wonderful things she told me that she and her family will absolutely bring me dinner and milkshakes and pick me up and take me to their house and surround me with love and tenderness after my surgery and for how ever long I need afterwards.) I won't be able to drive for awhile. Like, a month or two. What does that mean? Well, no work, for one. Being totally dependent, for another. Right now, after that contentment and realization and after that wonderful phone call - I'm really trusting that I'll be taken care of, I'll learn what I'm meant to learn here, and I'll keep being blessed.
posted by toni @ 8:42 PM
9 Comments:
At 4/24/2005 10:02 PM,
Jess said…
You WILL be taken care of. That was a great post, little town pocket. I'm much in the same place, minus the ankle surgery.
At 4/24/2005 10:09 PM,
toni said…
tell us more, jess? what, exactly, place are you in?
fear of being lonely? contentment? both? gratitude for friends?
what's that dar song? is it called "the blessings"? (i know! but i HAVE to put the " before the ?) is that the song that talks about friends and blessings?
At 4/25/2005 8:43 AM,
Jess said…
Having a variety of friends. Feeling content with that. A little sense of loss at not being anyone's "little weasel." Not being part of a pair where you're the other person's main person. But having this time to cultivate friendships and appreciating all the things that come with that.
At 4/25/2005 8:47 AM,
Jess said…
The Blessings has some of that, also My Friends - "she said, 'you know, I think you remember every part of me.'"
At 4/25/2005 10:20 AM,
toni said…
"sometimes i see myself just fine, sometimes i need a witness." i love that. because she's not saying that she absolutely relies on her friends all the time. it's true. sometimes i see myself just fine. but sometimes i need a witness, need feedback, need someone to remind me about myself and what i need and want and have experienced...
At 4/25/2005 12:19 PM,
Jess said…
I'm totally writing you a letter right now, and checking up on your blog simultaneously.
At 4/26/2005 4:40 PM,
Anonymous said…
This is SO interesting. First of all, I am so glad you had feelings of contentment. Secondly, you will be so well taken care of after your surgery that I think you will be happy you had the chance to realize what a huge number of lovers you have. (interesting use of the word "lovers", huh? But that's what I mean...without the sex. Toni lovers...that's what we are.) Third, I just realized how easy it is to see the grass on the other side as so very green. I have one mate and a few close friends, which is the opposite of what you're talking about. And I often wish for dozens of friends...friends for every activity. And sometimes I experience those moments of contentment, but I also spend time wishing for something else.
At 4/26/2005 9:31 PM,
toni said…
Whenever this topic comes up (and especially now, after discussing the deeper meaning in children's books w/ Jess in a series of emails a couple days ago (watch the film "Wit" and note the scene with "Runaway Bunny" as "a metaphor for the soul" which reminds us that we can hide from God but are never really alone.)) I think of "Where the Wild Things Are" and the part where Max just wants to be where someone loves him best of all. Even though I have moments of contentment, that longing is never far off.
At 5/21/2005 3:15 PM,
Anonymous said…
This is a response to your comment on Runaway Bunny. Karen H and I once did a workshop for an interfaith group of Sunday School teachers and we thought that we were the ones who thought of using Runaway Bunny for this message!
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