One of the greatest gifts of publishing a book is reuniting with friends I have not seen or heard from in years. And so recently -after almost twenty years - I had a breakfast with a dear friend from college while I was in New York.I was not sure what to expect. Had she aged? Had I? Would we have anything to talk about after all these years?She saw me before I saw her. She smiled and immediately I felt like no time had passed. I hugged her. She looked the same and yet she didn’t. There was wisdom in her face, sadness in her eyes. We talked about my career and hers. Then as we were finishing our yogurt, she shared with me her tragedy of losing a child.Tears filled in my eyes. Life happened. Real life happened.When we were in college, we talked about boys and sororities. Our conversation never went much deeper. But here we were today, two adults who had not seen each other in years connecting in a way we hadn’t before.Maybe this would be the beginning of a new friendship. Maybe the next twenty years would open a door that had been shut. Maybe just maybe as adults we might even have more to talk about after all these years. Time will tell.
Last week I went kayaking for the very first time. I was not sure what to expect and frankly I was a bit afraid. I was not scared of falling out of the boat, (I know how to swim,) I was fearful of looking stupid. I comforted myself by saying that of course there will be other people and I will not be alone.
I arrive at the meeting place and to my complete horror, only the guide and I are going. To top it off, Louise is 7 months pregnant. In the car on the way to the lake we make small talk and she gives me a few pointers - but not much to go on.Within a few minutes, I am in the kayak, feet pressed against the sides, flapping my arms from side to side. I look over at my guide, she is trying not to laugh.Feeling tired? I am, I replied, this is a workout.Maybe you shouldn’t try so hard. Bring your hands down, let the paddle flow through water. Don’t try and guide it, let the boat guide you.I listen to her words and slowly I begin to let go. I was so busy trying to do it perfectly, to make it look good that I looked silly and was exhausted. The minute I stopped trying so hard, I felt agile and calm.About two hours later, we were floating in the center of the lake after making an entire trip around it once. I looked up and the world looked so peaceful. Mental note to self: sometimes less effort is more effective.
One of the greatest gifts of publishing a book is reuniting with friends I have not seen or heard from in years. And so recently -after almost twenty years - I had a breakfast with a dear friend from college while I was in New York.I was not sure what to expect. Had she aged? Had I? Would we have anything to talk about after all these years?She saw me before I saw her. She smiled and immediately I felt like no time had passed. I hugged her. She looked the same and yet she didn’t. There was wisdom in her face, sadness in her eyes. We talked about my career and hers. Then as we were finishing our yogurt, she shared with me her tragedy of losing a child.Tears filled in my eyes. Life happened. Real life happened.When we were in college, we talked about boys and sororities. Our conversation never went much deeper. But here we were today, two adults who had not seen each other in years connecting in a way we hadn’t before.Maybe this would be the beginning of a new friendship. Maybe the next twenty years would open a door that had been shut. Maybe just maybe as adults we might even have more to talk about after all these years. Time will tell.
Last week I went kayaking for the very first time. I was not sure what to expect and frankly I was a bit afraid. I was not scared of falling out of the boat, (I know how to swim,) I was fearful of looking stupid. I comforted myself by saying that of course there will be other people and I will not be alone.
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