I’m Sorry, Friends!

I want to take a moment and apologize to my friends. I’ve been pretty sucky lately. And, what’s worse, is I’ve known it and I haven’t done a thing about it. On purpose.

Do you ever have times when you can just feel the wave of stress, change, upheaval, mourning, or even just heavy life demands coming your way? It’s like that electric breeze that rattles the uppermost leaves on the trees just before a storm descends. You know something’s coming but you’re not quite sure what. Well, I felt that. So, I turned off, shut down, holed up, and placed focus on my little family.

I didn’t schedule playdates. I didn’t send check-in texts or arrange mom dates. I didn’t return messages or texts or phone calls. I felt that distinct inner need to go into self-preservation mode. To shield myself from outside woes. To prevent myself from taking on — from feeling — others’ anxieties and woes. Because I felt I needed to hoard every love-filled, fun family experience, save every ounce of strength and calm and positivity for the impending storm.

I’ve lived enough to know never to doubt one’s intuition. To always listen to that inner pull, that whisper from within that directs and guides. Because when we don’t, that’s when we falter the most.

And so, I’ve been a bad friend. It’s not because I don’t care or love or want deeply to help. The problem is that I DO. I care so much that your worries worry me. I love so much that I harbor your burdens in my heart. I want so deeply to help that I lose sleep over how to make your struggles just a bit easier. But right now I can’t do that. I can’t be the friend I want to be or should be. I’m sorry.

In short time, I’ll come back and text you those check-in messages or “thinking of you” snippets. I’ll hold you in my intuitive heart and feel inexplicably tense when you’re worried or sad when you’re suffering. I’ll be a good friend again.

We’ll schedule playdates or mom dates or walks or coffee. We’ll share our happiness and woes. We’ll laugh and vent and laugh some more. We’ll come together again.

I’m sorry, friends! I love you.

It’s All Impermanent

So often we get stuck in the minute trials of life that we forget that it’s all fleeting. We get buried in the deliverables and career paths, tantrums and to-do lists, routines and skirmishes, tantrums and developmental timelines, carpool and never-ending┬álaundry that we lose perspective entirely.

Then, a moment strikes us back into reality. We realize the beauty of the moment — this very moment — and the speed with which time is racing. We pause amidst the surrounding churn and process the impermanence of it all.

Everything is temporary. The pain, the joy, the fun, the challenges, the frustrations, the worries, the celebrations, the sleepless stages, the adorable phases. All of it — good and bad, fretful and consoling — is fleeting.

We must remember that as we go about our days, toiling (simply for money or for personal aspiration) and/or raising our humans and growing ourselves. We must remind ourselves that no matter what pain or sadness, worry or frustration, anger or embarrassment we are feeling, it is not forever. It will end. We must too remember that the joyous, beautiful, precious, balanced times are not permanent. They too will end. So we must savor them. We will experience pain and comfort, mourning and elation, and that is natural. It is good. It is all good.

We must simply survive and savor, honoring the balance and minding the impermanence of life.