The Reflection of Love

Real talk.  It’s hard sometimes to truly believe that we are lovable.  I definitely have my share of struggles in this area.  Even if we have great friends and solid relationships, it can be hard to believe simple words and even actions.  This personal insecurity is why I wanted to write this article about my best friend.

We have known each other for almost 20 years now.  We went to different schools for college, and when I looked at her pictures on Facebook with all of her new friends, I used to worry that she would find a new best friend and have all kinds of fabulous adventures without me.  Then, we both got married and moved to different states.  The context changed, but the worry stayed the same.  Now that she lived close to her in-laws, one of whom was a close friend of hers from college, maybe her new family would take my place in her life.  What it really came down to was a fear of change and a lack of trust on my part.

What grand gesture did she make to assuage my fears?  How many heartfelt conversations did it take to reassure me of my best friend status?  Did you guess it?  Of course you did, you smart cookie, you.  The answer is: totally unnecessary.  We did have a quick convo that went something like this: “I used to look at your pics and think you would like them better than me.” “You did? I looked at YOUR pictures and worried the same thing.” “How silly of us.” “Indeed, ha ha!” Ok, so maybe not EXACTLY like that, but you get the idea.  Moving on.

Point is, she didn’t have to do anything out of the ordinary.  Why? Because she was already doing everything.  I just had to see it.  Of course, there are the everyday indications.  For example, the way she always tears out of the house at full tilt so that she can hug me straight out of my car.  Or, the texts here and there about how we love each other to the moon and back.  I never doubted that she loved me, but I didn’t trust myself to not screw things up and get on her nerves, just given enough time.  One day, I finally realized something that completely put my worries aside.

She doesn’t just tell ME that I’m her best friend.  She tells everyone.  When I went to visit her at college, every one of her friends that I met already knew who I was.  They welcomed me so warmly, I thought that I must have met them before and forgotten.  They knew all about me…because my best friend had told them.  When she got married, her new family basically adopted me.  Her own family calls me one of their own.  She made me godmother to her beautiful daughter, and took in one of my little beagle grand-furbabies.  I see how much she loves me in the faces, words, and actions of everyone else that she loves and who love her.

I saw my reflection, how she sees me, in the way that everyone who cares for her treats me.  What better expression of true friendship could I ask for?  I only hope that I can do as well for her, because I know beyond a doubt that I would do anything in the world for her, and I hope she knows it too.

What A Beautiful Mess I’m In

It’s been awhile.  Life has gotten away from me lately.  I won’t bore you with the details, but things have been crazy! Between teaching music, raising 8 puppies, a slew of house-guests, and having a cough that just won’t quit, I just “can’t even.” I know, #basicwhitegirl (when did THAT become a thing, btw?).  I just kept thinking, “I should blog, write this down, get this stuff out of my head and down on paper, but, you guessed it, I can’t even…”

The thing is, I was sitting on the couch today, hacking my lungs out while jumping up every few minutes, trying to make sure that my 5 remaining beagle Houdinis don’t escape from the yard, something came to me.  I’ve been so stressed about everything I’ve been trying to do lately, but the real problem is stressing out about everything I’ve been trying to avoid doing.  Every moment that I don’t HAVE to be doing something feels like a precious commodity.  Because of this feeling, I try to utilize every such moment to the absolute fullest, which means doing absolutely nothing productive.  I even go so far as to sit still, staunchly refusing to be productive for the sake of “relaxation.”

Seriously though, what is relaxing about doing nothing?  Our modern world is so focused on getting the most work possible done in the shortest period of time.  Because of this, we are always “working for the weekend.” We run ourselves ragged trying to work, work, work, just so that we can crash hard during our limited time off.  What is productive or healthy about that?  Nothing.  Today I realized that I have been so busy lately that I was actually AFRAID of being productive when I didn’t HAVE to be.  I didn’t want to get swept up in the hectic, crazy merry-go-round that is my life.  I am afraid that if I do one productive thing, then I won’t be able to stop.  Total first world problem, I know.  Really though, who hasn’t experienced this difficulty?  You do the dishes and then you notice the laundry.  One clean area just makes the rest look dirtier.  I’m afraid that if I start, I won’t be able to stop.  My relaxation moment will have passed.

The flaw is this way of thinking is a doozy.  It totally ruins the relaxation anyway!  I have such a death grip on my relaxation that it is almost impossible for me to relax.  My best friend told me once that she felt she had forgotten how to relax, and I thought it was so sad that she had lost that ability.  Guess what?  I’m right there with her.

So what’s the solution?  Hate to admit, I don’t have a clue.  All I have are ideas for change.  Idea #1: don’t be afraid to tackle things one step at a time.  Laundry can be done, while dishes are abandoned.  Puppies can be played with, while hairdos go to hell.  Friends can be caught up with, while unfinished paint samples create tacky polka-dotted walls.  I’m living in a mess, but with a smiling husband standing in the middle because I actually made a nice dinner for him, it’s a beautiful mess!

This idea is as far as I’ve gotten.  And I’m ok with that.  I’ll let you know how it goes.  Wish me luck!