Image via WikipediaIt's been an interesting year so far, this 2011. Here we are mid-way through March and it's shaping up to be the year of relationships. Perhaps all those crazy rabbits (B1 included since he was born in the year of the rabbit too) have been running a little too amuck. Perhaps there have been a few too many full moons already. I don't know what it is. Relationships have been waxing and waning with irritatingly persistent frequency of late. Interestingly, some of the relationships that have been re-ignited have been with old friends.
Friends I had lost contact with more than 20 years ago are suddenly, surprisingly, deliciously popping back into my life. Bringing with them a tingle of excitement at the prospect of revisiting memories, the mild nervousness of facing the reality of now widening and sagging bodies and the joyous expectancy of forging new friendships with these old friends, on new terms, with new-old bodies and more learned minds. This has been a wondrous experience for me, this forging of new-old friendships. Knowing each other as we did as teenagers, but having missed so much of our growing and learning, having missed marriages, children, separations and so much of the waft and weave of our lives since then, it is an extraordinary journey that we now embark on.
There is less of the circling of each other, sniffing out what's appropriate to say, how much is appropriate to reveal than in the making of new friendships, and for this I'm immensely grateful. I've grown impatient with the process of developing new friendships. Though I remain polite and even congenial to people I meet, I really can't be bothered with engaging in social niceties or feeling out the emotional lie of the land. So I'm enjoying this new kind of friendship. I know who these women were and I'm loving who they've come to be. I'm excited at the prospect of knowing them into old age and of intertwining our families.
And I'm immensely grateful and appreciative of all my friendships that nurture me, sustain me, inspire me and push me into the world, more confident of who I am and who I can be.
Friends I had lost contact with more than 20 years ago are suddenly, surprisingly, deliciously popping back into my life. Bringing with them a tingle of excitement at the prospect of revisiting memories, the mild nervousness of facing the reality of now widening and sagging bodies and the joyous expectancy of forging new friendships with these old friends, on new terms, with new-old bodies and more learned minds. This has been a wondrous experience for me, this forging of new-old friendships. Knowing each other as we did as teenagers, but having missed so much of our growing and learning, having missed marriages, children, separations and so much of the waft and weave of our lives since then, it is an extraordinary journey that we now embark on.
There is less of the circling of each other, sniffing out what's appropriate to say, how much is appropriate to reveal than in the making of new friendships, and for this I'm immensely grateful. I've grown impatient with the process of developing new friendships. Though I remain polite and even congenial to people I meet, I really can't be bothered with engaging in social niceties or feeling out the emotional lie of the land. So I'm enjoying this new kind of friendship. I know who these women were and I'm loving who they've come to be. I'm excited at the prospect of knowing them into old age and of intertwining our families.
And I'm immensely grateful and appreciative of all my friendships that nurture me, sustain me, inspire me and push me into the world, more confident of who I am and who I can be.
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