FRIENDSHIP

[This essay first appeared some years ago. Lately, though, I've been thinking about friendship--how important it is for our well-being--so I decided to repeat these thoughts in preparation for a celebration, however quiet, of Friendship. And even more important--don't limit yourself to a one-day celebration! It's an Everyday Thing!]

August 7 is friendship day. That was last week.

But friendship has been on my mind and heart lately and I want to explore some definitions and thoughts on what friendship is, and what it is to have—or to be—a friend.

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The most elemental definition I’ve ever seen is the title of Joan Walsh Anglund’s book, A Friend Is Someone Who Likes You. It was published in 1958 for children 4 to 7 years old. A friend is…someone who likes you. Simple. Direct. Easy to understand.

But as we all know, we grow older, and life takes twists and turns, our experiences cause us to make leaps and bounds. Or go backward. Or fall on our prats. Sometimes what we go through is, well, less than joyful. Here are some thoughts to keep your hearts and minds engaged in friendly paths as you find your way through the jungle.

* * * * *

Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.   --C. S. Lewis (1898-1967)

Who among us has not had a friend who kept us sane, even for a little while? Or who held our hand in a dark time? Who talked us down from a scary place—real or metaphorical—to continue living?

* * * * *

Sometimes being a friend means mastering the art of timing. There is a time for silence. A time to let go and allow people to hurl themselves into their own destiny. And a time to prepare to pick up the pieces when it's all over.   --Octavia Butler (1947-2006)

If you have a friend, then you, yourself, are a friend. It’s a reciprocal relationship, not one-sided, but a meeting of equals. So if you are a friend, you know what it means to remain silent when they “hurl themselves into their own destiny.” Sounds scary, doesn’t it? But we know we can’t live other people’s lives for them, no matter how much we care, how much more experience we have, how clearly we can see the pitfalls they will face. We can “prepare to pick up the pieces,” and I would add, resist the temptation to say I told you so. Even if you never said it in the first place.

* * * * *

One more idea:

We call that person who has lost his father, an orphan; and a widower that man who has lost his wife. But that man who has known the immense unhappiness of losing a friend, by what name do we call him? Here every language is silent and holds its peace in impotence.  -- Joseph Roux (French surgeon, 1780-1854)

Ignore the out-of-date pronouns and focus on the thought.

No one wants to lose a friend. Friends are more precious than silver and gold, than perfect gems, than all the possessions we can ever amass.

Yet, sometimes a friend is lost. To death, yes; but that is not the harshest loss. The loss that stabs our hearts and wrenches tears from our souls is the loss we have caused—or have been unable to prevent—for whatever reason.

John Donne (1572-1631) wrote, “Any man’s death diminishes me.” I would add, “Each friend’s loss takes a valuable part of me, and I’ll never regain it.”

* * * * *

To send you off with a happier thought:

If instead of a gem, or even a flower, we should cast the gift of a loving thought into the heart of a friend, that would be giving as the angels give.  --George MacDonald (1824-1905)

Celebrate your friendships. They may not number in the hundreds or thousands, they may be virtual friends you’ve never seen. True friends are the ones who know you, warts and all . . . .

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

Blessings, my friends-----

Thursday's Child

 HOW MANY GREENS?

Now that our weather has moderated (a little), I'm interested in looking around outside. Not long ago I had an opportunity to drive out into the country a few miles. And everywhere I looked, I saw green.

Do you know how many greens there are in rural areas? Here's a sampling:

• soybean green - the plants are about knee high on me (remember, I'm not very tall), and so close together that they make a nice dense field look as if it's going on forever.
• corn green - corn is definitely much higher than my knee, probably closer to or even above my just-over-five-feet height. And still growing.
• grass green - every farmhouse has a nice lawn, even if it's only a patch in front of the house and runs alongside the road
• tree green - here's where things get tricky. Tree green is only a single color if you're painting trees with your kindergartner or, if you're like a lot of us, lump all trees in the landscape together. After all, that's a forest over there, isn't it? I can't tell what species each is from the road as I putter along at 50 mph (country roads also have speed limits).
• But if you happen to recognize a tree and can name its species, you'll find the maples are different from the oaks and different from willows and birches and pines and  . . . .
• weed green - this is a catch-all category for all the overgrown weeds that line country roads, usually along ditches where mowing is perilous and the consensus is that they can just be left alone.
• garden green - occasionally, from my vehicle, it's possible to see a cultivated garden
• a flower garden will have plants of various heights, often colorful because it's the season for blooming; the greens vary according to the variety--from deep green to dusty sage green, and everything in between.
• a kitchen garden - which provides vegetables and herbs for cooks, may have pole bean green, tomato plant green, parsley green, mint green, asparagus green, lettuce green, basil green, rosemary green, and many other hues, depending on the gardener's tastes and the availability of the plants or seeds. 

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If you'd like to know more about greens--the colors, not the kind you eat--do a search on the Crayola colors. The current Big Box has 120 crayons, and a healthy chunk of them are greens.

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

mostly green

 OASIS

noun

1. A fertile spot in a desert where water is found.

2. A pleasant or peaceful area or period in the midst of a difficult, troubled, or hectic place or situation.

"An oasis of calm in the center of the city"

     synonyms:     refuge, haven, retreat, sanctuary, sanctum, shelter, harbor, asylum

"The park is an oasis filled with half a million flowers and thousands of lights."

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I once received some good advice from a friend: paraphrased, it went something like this: “Do what you can to make your own little corner of the world a better place.”

At the time that advice was given, I was feeling a little sorry for myself. Probably 99.44% of the human race have at one time or another felt a little bit sorry for themselves. And there’s always somebody around willing to give you (1) good advice, (2) a hug, if needed, or (3) a kick in the pants. All three work.

I want to digress a little here—self-pity, though considered a negative state, isn’t all bad. It may be merely a transient state in which to examine oneself, one’s condition, one’s responses—a time of active self-care. Such a time can lead to healing.

You've no doubt heard this many times: “If we don’t take care of ourselves, we’ll have nothing to give others.” In recent years, this advice is given to caregivers who spend a large part of their time taking care of family or friends during a long, perhaps terminal, illness. Caregivers are urged to get out of the house; go to appointments on their own; take an hour or two for shopping at leisure, doing errands. Friends are always available to sit with the patient.

Think about it. An empty vessel holds no balm. We all need to replenish our inner resources.

There are many ways to fill the empty vessel—travel, study; creative endeavors; reading, music; movies. Escapist, you say? Well, maybe; sometimes; and that could be the best way to start filling the vessel of our lives again.

Escapism, like self-pity, is not a permanent address. It’s a place for stepping back; a breathing space. Some folks go on retreats—the kind where you aren’t expected to interact with a lot of other people. Some find solace and peace and healing in prayer or meditation.

None of this has to involve travel or money. Go to the local park and sit in the sun (or shade, if you prefer) and let breezes and bird song wash over you. Or go for a solitary walk, or take your dog with you; or walk with someone who also knows how to be silent. Whatever the season, there’s a place you can go to withdraw from noise. One of my favorite places is the public library. Amazing how other people’s voices disappear when I’m reading at the library.

Breathing space may be as near as your patio, or a quiet room in your house. Make your own oasis. You’ll return to it again and again. It’s a place to just be.

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

THIS 'N' THAT

We could also call this essay "Random Thoughts." Or, "Bits and Pieces." Or, "Snippets."

July is a hard month to write about. It's hot. It's humid. (Today we're promised Heat Index of 105 deg. or more!) I don't have a swimming pool. Air Quality is iffy, so sitting outside in the shade doesn't appeal.

So, I've had to make my own distractions. Best I could come up with this year is--HUMOR!

Following are some quotations from The Best of Bits & Pieces, a 1994 book one of my daughters gave me last Christmas. Ready?

1--Experience is a comb that nature gives us when we are bald. (Chinese proverb)

2--The person with a new idea is a crank until the idea succeeds. (Mark Twain)

3--Life is like a ten-speed bike--most of us have gears we never use. 

4--Learn from the mistakes of others--you can never live long enough to make them all yourself.

5--If everybody obeyed the Ten Commandments there might not be an 11 o'clock news.

6--All mothers are physically handicapped. They have only two hands.

7--The next best thing to solving a problem is finding some humor in it.

8--If you have lived well, laughed often, and loved much, consider yourself a success.

9--The Lord gave us two ends--one to sit on and the other to think with. Success depends on which one we use the most. (Ann Landers)

10--If you're going to give someone a piece of your mind, make sure you can spare it.

11--Don't watch the clock. Do what it does. Keep going. (Sam Levenson)

12--Thinking is the hardest work there is, which is probably the reason why so few engage in it. (Henry Ford)

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So there you go! A round dozen bits and pieces that may make you laugh, or smile, or maybe just think a little differently. 

Have a great week. Blessings,

Thursday's Child

Lots of words here!

THE GRUMPY SEASON

We all know the calendar seasons--Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter. But there's one that has no set time to appear--has never been studied, that I know of--and entirely wipes out any great things happening in one of the calendar's offerings. I give you--THE GRUMPY SEASON.

First, let me say that the Grumpy Season is entirely individual. Its arrival for me is probably not the same as its showing up in your life.

Second, since the Grumpy Season is individual, it has no official . . . well, anything. No shopping dates. No party schedules or concerts by kids in school bands and choruses. No decorations, no holiday motifs. You can't schedule your wedding for the Eve of the Grumpy Season because, as you've no doubt figured out already, there isn't one!

Third, in my experience, the Grumpy Season is a sly thing--it somehow knows just when I'm least likely to want its interference. Do I want to be grumpy? No! What if I have plans? Too bad for me.

That's enough, I think, to give you the idea. 

So, the trouble is this: I'm sitting at my laptop, fingers poised over the keyboard, ready to pounce on a great idea for this week's blog post. I sit in pouncing mode for minutes on end. Take a break to play Mahjongg solitaire. Come back to the keyboard, wait a few more minutes. Get up for a bottle of water and a walk through the front of the house. This can go on for hours. 

I have never found a way to disengage with the Grumpy Season. It strikes on some kind of whim. I thought by writing about it, sharing it with a larger audience, I might get some relief. So far, zilch.

Maybe this time it'll be a short season--over and done with by tomorrow. Then again--

Wishing you the best--and may your life be filled with good things. (See Winnie the Pooh's thoughts below.)

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

 DO YOU TRANSISH?

[This post first appeared 10 years ago!!! Yes, ten! And when I reread it, with the idea of using it as inspiration for another whirl with Transition, I discovered I didn't want to change a thing. Hmm, wonder does that says about me?]

Although I've watched myself making the transition from being a girl to being a woman, I still feel 15 years old. My reflection disagrees.  Jaime Winstone

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Transition, noun: the process or a period of changing from one state or condition to another.

Synonyms: change, passage, move, transformation, conversion, metamorphosis, alteration, handover, changeover; segue, shift, switch, jump, leap, progression; progress, development, evolution, flux

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Lately I am thinking about transitions (see above). I even perused two dictionaries, both of which did not entirely agree with the above definitions that I culled from the Internet. (There's a lesson in there somewhere.)

About all I came up with is that a transition is a noun: the process or period during which something goes from one state or condition to another.

Change, on the other hand, is mostly used as a verb: to vary, alter, or otherwise modify, transform, etc. something or someone.

We've come to regard transition as a verb (sorry, I didn't mean this to become an English class)--we talk about transitioning from one state to another. The quotation I used at the beginning of this post shows the proper use--making the transition--of the noun.

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Whew! Now that we've got that settled, let's go on with transition as a noun and what it means in Real Life.

In the past I’ve recognized I was going through a transition only after I passed through it. Does that make sense? I think so.

Now, at an advanced age, I am aware of transition as I make it . . . for example, what I’m doing differently now that I have some limitations. Such as:

Tendinitis – I knit or sew for shorter periods of time, in order to keep my

arm from going into spasms.

 

     Lower energy levels – My days are planned around the must-dos so that
     I don’t overdo; three events in one day are the absolute limit. Sometimes
     it’s just one, such as a big family holiday dinner with lots of folks around.

     Memory and Follow-through – I don’t do long-term projects. Small ones
     suit me now because I’ll get them finished. My life is strewn with WIPs
     (Works in Progress) that may never get to the finish line: quilts cut out
     but not sewn, half-knitted items, manuscripts of  the beginnings of stories;
     not to mention boxes of stored items in the garage that may (but probably
     don’t) contain items of value, but should be sorted.

Some days I’m not happy with myself. My Today List is longer than the hours it takes to accomplish them, now that I’m a tortoise and not a hare. (Did I used to get all that stuff done in one day?) I go to bed vaguely dissatisfied with unfinished projects, items on my list that didn’t get checked off.

Then I remember all the things that I did do—perhaps small things that never made it to The List: an email to a friend I don’t see very often; a phone call from one of the kids; bills paid so I don’t get penalties; bird feeders filled and suet put out. If I can recall these things, then I realize I’m not totally inert. I may not move as fast as I used to (Tortoise Syndrome), but I do move. And I remember that there’s always another day (probably) in which to do some more.

I suspect the real point of transitions has to do with perspective--how does a person react to the change from one state or condition to another? Here's a glimpse at my perspectives:

I'm not crazy about having tendinitis, which can be treated, but after a while its effects are definitely limiting to some of my activities. Should I give up knitting? Quit sitting at a sewing machine to make quilts for charitable giving?
     No, but I don't have to give myself impossible deadlines.

A super-busy day on the calendar has me almost dreading it. If I don't have enough energy to get through an extra activity, what's the worst thing that will happen?
     I'll take a nap when I get home--or go to bed earlier--or give myself a
     "day off" the next day to rest up.

Some of my half-baked projects can be finished--by someone else, perhaps; or by me, if they morph into something besides what they first were intended to be.
     Nothing is cast in stone; I can change my mind without penalty--after all,
     it's my project.

Transitions aren't good--or bad. They simply are. They signal the change from one state or condition to the next. (See definitions at the beginning of this post.)

Sometimes they're happy changes--from being a single gal to being a married one. Or from Mom to Grandma. Sometimes they're less desirable--aging with some of the health problems (and wrinkles and grey hair and gravity problems) that may accrue as we mature.

But if we're still alive, we're always in transition. Think about it.

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

In another day, we'll celebrate the birthday of our nation--July 4th. You can google Declaration of Independence and get the whole text, plus the names of all who signed it.

Today, though, I want to talk about personal birthdays.

      As an aside--if you're a purist, you'll call it the birth anniversary. Fine with me. But I've always called it a birthday, so you'll just have to make allowances for me.

Anyway! Birthdays in my family have always been special times. Now that we are growing in numbers--four generations add up to a larger number every year--I seldom get to celebrate birthdays with my children, grandchildren, or greatgrandchildren. But the greeting card industry is still in business in part because I remember everyone with a card.

There are folks who say, "I never celebrate my birthday." Or, "I just ignore birthdays." Well, that's their choice. But I like birthdays for one simple reason: It's a day that celebrates the birth of a person I know and have affection for and wish them well in their journey.

A friend of mine recently celebrated his birthday. A few years ago he told me he doesn't add a year to his age each time--he started subtracting a year! He's now the same age as his child, or maybe a year younger! (By the new measurement.)

If the only reason people want to ignore their birthdays is so they don't have to acknowledge their age, I'm afraid it's a lost cause. The motor vehicle bureau has your number. So does Social Security (if you're qualified). Your doctor and all other medical personnel and institutions.

So, whether you celebrate the day you became an independent, breathing, resident on this planet, or decide to ignore it--welcome anyway. Some of us wish you a happy birthday!

Blessings to all,

Thursday's Child