Vivid Living

My friend Julie and I celebrated our 40^th birthdays at the Red Mountain Spa in picturesque St. George, Utah.  We’re four years late, but who’s counting?

Julie and I were fresh-women roommates at Northwestern University (sorry, fresh-men just doesn’t sound right) and in large part, she beckoned me to Denver in 2006.

Back when life was simpler – when we weren’t juggling quite so many jobs, kids, schedules and losses – we tried to carve out special time once a year or even every second year, for a girlfriends’ getaway.  In more recent times, life’s been full for both of us, and while we manage to squeeze time for lunch or a walk, celebrating our friendship in this way – with three days of hiking, talk time and pampering – was a rare and wonderful thing.

Being with my friend, of course, was like diving into a velvety chocolate sundae. It feels so good and sweet that you just want to stay and play.

There’s more to it though.  Being a friend is one of the roles I hold dear, right there with wife, mother, daughter, sister, writer, and advocate. And yet when life pulls the way it does, it’s impossible to keep up with all the people in life who matter. We mean well; we just can’t be all things to ourselves and others all of the time.

Celebrating the part of me that is a friend proved to be just the elixir of wholeness I needed. I came back from Utah ready for action.

Make time for those friends that matter to you, when and how you can.

Celebrating friendship

“You kids need to go to bed NOW,” I hollered from the bottom of the stairs.

It was shortly after 9 p.m., past my eight-year-old twins’ bedtime, and fast approaching mine.

“But Mom, I REALLY need you,” Casey pleaded, his voice earnest and tender in just the piercing way that wears me down (which he knows).

Not wanting to prolong this stairway scene and further excite his sister, I trudged upstairs, a little impatiently, and sat beside him in the dark of his room.

“Mom,” he said, “I’ve been thinking about making friends.”

Before I’d even begun to process a response in my tired stupor, suddenly, he sits up, flicks on his bedside lamp, grabs a pen and small white pad, and begins to write “10 Ways to Make Friends by Mom and Me.”

“So, tell me, how do you do it?” he asks, looking at me with those irresistible tootsie-brown eyes. At once I understand that this is one of those teachable moments so I give him a few suggestions, milking the opportunity to offer welcome parental guidance.  But then he takes off, content to write strategy after strategy, oblivious to his mother staring over his notepad in quiet wonder.

In his own words (and spelling), here’s the list:

1. Say yes!

2. Be kind.

3. Be honost.

4. Be tough.

5. Believe in your self.

6. Trust.

7. Try new things.

8. Say nice things.

9. Have allot of play dates.

10. Ask to be incluudied.

The end. From Mom and Me.

Well now..the kid might not be too coordinated on the playing field, but he’s got soul, and a lot of it.

Again and again, it’s my son who proves to be the wisest of teachers.   I’m so glad that I veered from routine to listen to him: you never know when inspiration strikes and someone’s soul comes calling.

A few weeks ago while visiting relatives in California a friend having a zero birthday and a midlife crisis called.  In reality — by which I mean the “big picture“ snapshot — everything in her world was alright; it’s just that she couldn’t see, well, er…the  ”big picture.”

My cousin, Josetta, who knows the friend and overheard my conversation, had one word to say: “Next?”  I looked at her, trying to read her mind.  “Next?” she repeated, this time with the added drama of cocking her head sideways.

But of course!

Next? means MOVE ON!  As in…make that phone call, clear that debt, shrug off confrontation, reset your thinking, pursue your passions, risk, and focus on all that is possible and positive.

I love this clean, direct wisdom because its relevance can be tested across small disappointments like a traffic ticket and larger ones, like job turmoil or, yes, even mourning.  How you proceed is up to you, as is the timing (let’s face it –  five days for one person might mean five months for another) but at some point, I think, intuition leads you to the next place.

There aren’t many certainties in this world. But choosing when to ask and execute Next? is within our reach — always. In spite of the thorns in life, if we’re not moving forward, I wonder, just where are we going?

My last post generated some bold e-mails, enough to warrant a second glance at the concept of marrying your life.

It occurs to me that too often we squash our dreams.  The dreams that keep us up at night, gnawing at our subconscious because they are so revealing.   I’ve had a recurring dream of writing a book under a cherry blossom tree in Italy.   In the dream, I was alone, relaxed, mindful of the blush of pink flowers above me, the sweet fragrance in the air, and the pleasing view of the green and terra Italian countryside.  I wrote longhand. Imagine.

Two things have come of this dream:  my husband and I have decided to travel to Italy in June; and, I’ve decided to get my MFA in creative nonfiction writing at Goucher College.

How much simpler to follow the path of least resistance than to buck convention.   There are plenty of reasons why we probably shouldn’t go to Italy this summer, chief among them money.  And yet, what are we waiting for? Steve is celebrating a zero birthday. For a new couple with four kids between us, we’ve earned this romantic getaway.

As for the MFA, I’m ready.  After many years of juggling various responsibilities, I  yearn for focus and structured time to write.  In the quiet of the evening and the time-robbing bustle of the day, the vision has come to me slowly but convincingly.  At first I couldn’t embrace it.  Could I really make this sort of commitment to myself?  I worried about giving up consulting work; I worried about who would help with the kids during the annual two-week residency; I worried about balancing the demands of the program with those in my life; I worried about making a mistake.

But the greater part of me, the part that is married to my life, began to pay close attention to the voice inside saying “yes.”  This is the same voice that led me to recast my life nearly four years ago by moving to CO, and it’s clear for all to see what a positive move that has been.

If not now, when?

What dreams are tugging at you?