Inspiration: During our recent snowstorm, I saw this young tree bent from the weight of snow. When I spotted it, I immediately thought that it was nature’s representation of me. Several times, I went outside and shook the snow off of it and it would spring back to the upright position. I have hope that I, too, will bounce back like this little tree.
Good friends can often see our blind spots. It takes courage to tell us stuff we don’t want to hear, but they are there to comfort us when life is rough.
Recently a friend shared an observation which she’d kept to herself for years. What she said kind of hurt, but I wish she’d spoken up sooner. As I thought about obsessed over it more, I cycled through the possible motivations for silence and sharing. It could be a desire to not sway my choices (though decisions made on inaccurate observations are inherently flawed.) It could be that she doubted the strength of our friendship (sometimes when told something we don’t want to acknowledge, we lash out.) Maybe she kept her silence until she thought I could handle the truth. It could be a combination of these, and other factors. I try not to dwell on the reasons I cannot know, and instead, appreciate the fact she finally did speak up.
Sometimes life feels like a corn maze. The greater design of my life is a mystery to me. I’m so focused on the day-to-day that I can’t see anything beyond the space my feet occupy. Actually, I tend to see what I want to and rationalize the rest. That’s where a good friend can be invaluable.
Offering superficial approval, passive agreement, and placating compliments is easy. Being a good friend is hard.
My hope is that we can all have a good friend- and be a good friend to someone.
Inspiration: When I wrote this, I wanted the obvious interpretation to be about snow falling. The photo of the recent first major snowfall in my area might have helped illustrate that conclusion. The underlying meaning has more to do with emotions. In the first four lines, I was writing about ambivalence. The next four lines refer to love, and the final four lines are about the end result when ambivalence and love come together.
I hope everyone had a safe and happy New Year! Did you do anything fun to celebrate? Did you make any resolutions? It’s good to be back from my blogging break and I will be catching up on reading over the next week or so 🙂
I feel like a kid again. Trust me, at 40, there’s not much that makes me forget my slower step or aging skin, but waking up to a dusting of fresh snow does just that. This is the first winter in twenty-five years where I have a real chance to wake up to snow. Watching my sons’ excitement and anticipation for more snow makes it even more fun for me.
My husband, a life-long resident of Phoenix, has never experienced a real winter. The excitement affects him, too. He’s been at the window as much as the kids!
I have a feeling snow would cease to be magical when the fallen amount is measured in feet rather than inches. This is why we still live in Arizona 🙂
I’ll leave you with a photo of our Arizona Snowman, made of twisted wires and lights. He gathered some snow, but as far as I can tell, he didn’t come to life. Now that would’ve been a fun blog post!
My kids got their wish – we got a light dusting of snow over the weekend. They scraped up what they could and made a small snowman. It wasn’t nearly enough snow for play, so one afternoon we drove to higher elevation so they could really get into it. (Actually, we made the drive so I could get family pictures to send out with our Christmas cards… the promise of play was our sneaky way to get them to go quietly :))
We managed to get some fairly decent pictures, thanks to a tripod and figuring out the timer on the camera. So, as promised, the kids got to romp in the snow. Even soaked and frozen, they still balked at leaving. Their playtime meant photo taking time for me, and I think I ended up with some nice shots. Eventually, they’ll get posted here.
Even though their snowman was in a sad state two days later, they aren’t dwelling on that. Their minds are already focused on when the next snowstorm might arrive. All they’ve ever known is desert, so I’m loving how excited they are by snow. More childhood wonder to make this old lady not feel quite so old. They are a gift, for sure!