You get to a point where who you are just IS.
This doesn’t mean to never be open to continue learning or developing for a growth in progress we each are, we all can peacefully accept.
I have enjoyed the one orchid I’ve managed to still keep blooming for several years now. It sits behind me beside my bathtub as I stand in front of my bathroom mirror.
Like my other plants having their own messages I imagine speaking to me, this orchid reminds me that it cannot be changed beyond a full bloom.
It is beautiful as so. It wants nothing more than to just be.
I feel as if I’ve happily arrived to that full bloom. After years of gradual growth, I stand in peace with me if I were to grow or become no further.
I have had the joy of the becoming of me. I have had to.
One benefit of moving around so much is that you spend a lot of time working out your own thoughts, reflecting on daily interactions.
Another benefit is that when people you meet are not permanent, the only solid presence who shows up each day within every trial and tribulation is the reflection before the mirror.
Smile back and you can feel the joy of who is looking right at you.
Investing in oneself is sometimes what all you’re left with to fully grow. That can’t be bad.
Yoga is a new weekly regimen for me. I am glad to have taken on the invitation from a Zumba friend of mine. My lasting memory of yoga was with my oldest son when he was about the age of 14 now going 32. Haha!
I joked with the instructor that the class reminds me of two things I forget to do- breathe and stretch.
For one hour, at least once a week, I get to reach within and just allow myself to be, locked into my own senses without guilt.
No endlessly caring husband always sharing with me his thoughts to hear in my ear.
No children to worry about within this moment.
No students to address.
I feel and hear my friend inside who has never left.
There is so much goodness to take for granted in that one inside. No wonder why I shield her so much.
I recently attended a baby shower for the son and daughter-in-law of a long time friend of mine.
Honestly, my presence was long due. I was happy to have received an invitation to which I immediately purchased two main requests of the expectants.
I didn’t hesitate to think it was the least I could do, showing my gratitude for the invitation.
Aside from being excited about all the foods I know I would be filling my tummy with, I laughed and hummed to myself on the way, knowing I would be that once-in-a-blue moon guest to show up.
I wasn’t wrong in both.
I shamelessly and surely ate my feelings after walking around to give many hugs and greetings to those I hadn’t seen since the last time (give and take a few years- seriously).
The eyes were very telling that many were surprised to see me. I would have been surprised, too.
It was as if I could feel everyone else had been keeping in touch. EVERY BODY else.
As I sat and many more came to enter, I couldn’t help but (with a happily full tummy) observe all the many friends who have known each other for so long, some as way back as the beginnings of grade school.
Having connected with these faces only starting in my junior high years to high school, my heart filled with warmth to see them all talking as if time never changed.
The last I had seen those in my senior graduating year was our last reunion several years ago. Many had made it evident they had seen each other just the day before.
Surely, they kept in touch, not just knowing about one another’s lives but their children and grandchildren.
As I listened, I no doubt quietly reflected on how much of each of their lives I had missed.
I couldn’t help but smile inside, however. There was no regret within me to feel.
I chose right with my time.
I recall as early on, being such a young parent starting college, how I already pushed away all the invitations to do something otherwise than continuing school while focusing on my growing family.
I was so afraid to mess up anything then of what I had finally gotten to call my very own.
My own home. My own children. My own husband. My own future self.
How could I afford to do anything else? Each of my blessings were tender and priceless.
What would be worth trading any of them for anything else?
Being at that baby shower, listening to dearly, amazing ladies who had managed to keep their friendships together for so long- remarkably awe-inspiring!
None of those ladies need me in their lives. They have managed without me just fine.
My dearest husband, at first not ever minding to have me to himself for over three decades now, has recently been sharing with me his concerns that if he were to go, what friendships have I held onto that could keep me going?
I tell him that I have my Zumba friends. He unhesitatingly tells me those are at a shallow level of friendship.
Okay. So he is right. I have no idea what any of the ladies’ last names are I dance (my heart out!) with nor would I even know where any live. They might as well all be social media “friends” (if I kept up with those, too).
Is it wrong, though, to be okay being or having shallow-level friendships?
If I cannot give others my all, how is it that I should even try to give anyone anything?
The training days of having gone to so many schools and having moved around so much – not needing to invest in long-time friendships led me to the inevitable arrival of not needing anyone other than my husband or children.
We attend a neighbor’s themed gathering at least every four to six months. There, I get to touch base with yet another group of wonderful hearts and minds who hold back nothing from sharing their thoughts of life and marriage.
I love every minute of those moments, too.
Can I not cherish genuine moments without risking having to overdo it?
I dare say the next time my husband bring up his same concern that perhaps I’m just not a wanted choice.
After all, I am at my golden age of fifty going closer to fifty-one. I would like to think, fairly so, that those who were very good at investing in friendships are overflowing with such abundance.
Must I force that now? Is THAT genuine?
I have laughed to my colleague and told her that when people quickly think who would be the first person to call or hang out with, my name or face would not come to mind.
She laughed out loud and shamed me for such a thought. I was serious.
Sometimes, you just have to admit where you stand. My husband just isn’t ready to accept me being okay with well… me.
That’s real admittance for one who knows to accept that truth.
When I give, I joyfully and openly give.
Time, however?
From the moment I smelled my first son’s breath down to my first daughter, and my second, and now, finally our last two, I want to remember those precious times over anything else.
My husband and I are closing up this chapter of raising our last two children to their fullest. When the time comes our grandchildren are around us, we only visualize continued laughter and joy.
When you run into trial periods of allowing people to become who they would like to be in your life, the door either lets them keep coming back in or you realize that time is too precious to take away from those who matter most.
After a while, time is reserved for the very few.
I have my few.
Beyond grateful, I am.
