this moment {friends}

Linking with SouleMamma and many others:

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

these two little ladies

In our brimming home this summer were two amazing little girls filled with personality and life.  It's funny how similar these two are.  It's perplexing what a challenge they can both be to their parents.  It's confounding how intensely they experience life - both confident and strong-willed, both vivacious and spirited, both joyous and determined.

So to see these two interact, I imagine, would be a developmental psychologists dream.  Fortunately, my sister and I are not psychologists so we could simply enjoy the wonder of this pair.

During their visit, these two were inseparable.  And their pretend play was interactive, imaginative, playful and simply wonderful.  What amazed me was how little they relied on grown ups; not for problem solving, not for ideas, not for supplies, not for affirmation or assurance.  Dress scarves became skirts, sticks became wands, rocks turned into gems, boxes into cameras.  Their imaginations worked with synergy yielding hours and hours of fun and entertainment.  

A favorite theme was playing house - you be the mama and I'll be the baby.  They traded roles and, at times, included the younger brother in their play.  They took turns bossing him around to be sure.  They put baby to bed, dressed him, bathed him, rocked him, fed him.  So fun to see them emulate their every day observations of parenting.

Perhaps my favorite moments, however, were the moments of conflict.  Conflict management and mediation are my thing.  It's what I do at work, often, and I really enjoy helping others come to understanding.  Much to my dismay, I've noted that fewer and fewer college students come equipped with skills for conflict.  But, not these two.  

Here's what you might hear if you were a fly on the wall:

          I'll be the mama and you be the baby.

          No, I want to be the mama today.

          I'm older so I get to say who is the mama.

          But you were the mama yesterday.  It's my turn.

          (Voices rising) I don't want to play with you if I can't be the mama.

          If I can't be the mama you won't be my cousin anymore.

          I don't like you anymore.

          (Tears) I want to be your cousin because I love you and I will miss you if you are not my cousin.

          (Pause) Okay.  I want you to be my cousin too.  You can be the mama today, but I'll be the mama tomorrow.

Listening. Explaining. Naming feelings and fears.  Honest. Open. Compromising.

It seems to me that even every day grown ups can learn a lot from the play of these two little ladies. Nope, no developmental psychologist needed.  Just a little presence and listening and meaning making.  Just a little of our every day.

marking

I have a mark on my hand.  Really it's a henna tattoo.

This tattoo reminds me of an intimate evening with a beautiful group of women.  We were gathered, recently, in celebration of a dear friend's 40th birthday. 

In honor of creativity, she hired a henna artist who made her talented mark on each of us.

Quickly it's become such a part of me that I hardly notice it.  Though, my mark has certainly garnered reaction from folks at work.  Some have asked, with fondness, about how and why I got the tattoo.  Some have celebrated the creative experience.  Many have given the startling and degrading look that screams "what's that about?"

It struck me that my new mark sets me apart, not unlike a person with a disability or some other visible sign of difference.  It could be tempting to cover or hide my mark.  With each look of judgment, I consider it.

Then our campus minister asked me if I had attended a Hindu event recently and wondered about my henna.  He shared a wedding story of a young Christian woman for whom he performed the marriage ceremony.  Her ethnicity was Indian and to honor that she had her arms and hands decorated with henna.  He shared this story in such a loving way it made my heart open like a flower.

I heard myself say, "I'm thankful for my marking.  It reminds me each day of the friendship that prompted this marking.  It reminds me of the joyous celebration we shared.  It reminds me of the friendships I share with the other women who celebrated her.  It reminds me of my friend's creativity and how her creativity has touched my life."  For the first time in a long time, I felt a rush of warmth and happiness come over me.  Tears followed.

That moment with my chaplain reminded me that all of these relationships were formed out of our individual faith journey's.  And again, God's presence was felt in every fiber of my being.

I love everything about this mark!

this moment (old friends)

Linking with SouleMamma and many others:

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. 

 

 

this moment (orientation antics)

Linking with SouleMamma and many others:

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. 

Friendship

I had the most amazing day because I got to spend it with a friend - one of the most amazing, genuine, friends ever.  We haven't had dedicated time to see or talk with each other in, probably, four years (since I moved away), but the casual observer of our meeting today would have been none the wiser.  We talked for five solid hours with barely a breath between us.  I think what is most striking was the mirror that we were for each other today, as we always have been.

I met this friend about 10 years ago when she came to work where I was working.  I had been burned by her predecessor, so I was reluctant to reach out to her upon her arrival.  The moment, as I remember it, that changed the entire shape of my life, was the moment she included me in a conversation about the work we would do together with our students.  She never asked if I wanted to partner with her.  She never saw our work as mine and hers.  Her lens was that of collaboration and the rest, they say, is history.

We became a force to be reckoned with.  What I lacked in creativity and flexibility, she had.  When she wanted to make decisions solely based on empathy, I brought logic to the table.  We were vision and detail, big picture and grunt work.  We grew up professionally together (me learning more from her than the reverse!).  We've laughed together, cried together, challenged each other, and made each other better.

I think my favorite times with her, though, were the times shared as we each started our families.  I got pregnant first, despite my earlier assertion that I didn't see myself having children.  Nine months later, she was pregnant.  We shared similar views and values about pregnancy, childbirth, breastfeeding, and more.  We listened to each others' fears and discoveries, felt each others' growing bellies, watched each other nurse our babies, and supported each other in the way only women can.

This is the point where our everyday opportunity to be with each other changed.  She began working part-time.  I changed jobs and then moved for another job change.  I have no regrets about those decisions and I don't believe she does either.  Those decisions certainly changed our time together, but NOT our friendship.

What brought us together today is the common place we find ourselves now - trying to understand ourselves and make meaning of our lives as mothers, women, professionals in the online space of the blog.  I have to admit that I was invited to read her blog and fell in love with the idea of having a creative space to unpack my mind.  Much of the inspiration for writing and sharing stories comes from her.

We've been reading each other and realized that we are, again, in similar places in our lives.  We are in a place where we desire meaning in what we do, rich relationships with our children and family, strong spiritual lives, and a strong sense of self.  We also struggle with finding balance as we attempt to commit to all of these aspirations. We are women who have been told we can have it all and now realize that having it all still requires sacrifice.  So, we are being intentional and thoughtful about how and what we will sacrifice.  

She held the mirror as I saw myself in her stories and I held the mirror for her.  It was amazing to hear her stories today and even more renewing to have her hear mine.  This is a friendship I cherish and am grateful for the time we had today.  I'm grateful that we found this common space to peak into each others' lives more regularly than this once-in-four-years meeting.  I am thankful for her!