Sunday, October 14, 2018

Sorry, not sorry

As I write this post, the sun is streaming in the window and the distant sound of crashing waves chimes in with the classical music I have streaming on my computer.  I am in Netarts, OR for a girls' weekend and it is just about to come to a close.

For some reason, I've been struck by how often I heard the word 'sorry!' during this stay - genuine messages to convey to the person in front of you so they know that no harm was meant when you grabbed the almost-to-the-last slice of pizza for lunch. A fragile, gentle dance as six women navigate one another as each of us holds onto our sloppy and perfect selves not quite sure how it all fits into the mix of each other.  We figure it out: who sleeps where; who wants to eat what; when we take strolls on the beach.  Somehow, six different views on manners, care, and sharing figure out how to be under one roof - and we pull it off because we love each other.

I've seen on Facebook, people post something that might be taken in the wrong way and they include the 'Sorry, not sorry' hashtag.  I don't quite understand that but there is a lot I don't fully grasp on social media.  Sorry, not sorry.

Ah!  I think I get it now!

A dear, dear friend shares this haven with us so we can convene with each other every few months to re-calibrate, write, eat, and hunt for agates (well, I do that last one every time I am here). Each visit is filled with laughter, some tears, gratitude, and love. This may be my last visit for a very long time.


I always adore the one-on-one chats that I have with each of my friends and not only has this visit to the beach graced me with the opportunity, my entire stay in Portland for the past week and a half has offered up unexpected connections with these lovely people I get to call 'friend'.

You think you know someone after so many years of being in each other's lives, but then they see you in your pajamas for the first time.  It is a game changer.  What I mean is, the level of intimacy that comes out of spending focused time with someone in their home is a lovely gift because it is based on the realness of being.  Well, if you let it. 

Over these 17 days, I am staying in 8 different homes.  And during those stays, I have been blessed with opportunities to connect with my friends on a heartfelt level that has moved me to a place that makes me feel like the luckiest person alive. Some of those conversations were squeezed into a 15 minute, I-got-to-get-out-the-door-to-be-somewhere chats; some while slowly savoring a nice glass of whiskey; some as one friend ventures out to explore making art and shares her creations with me; some while taking several hours to walk on the beach.  I've learned more about my friends during this whirlwind visit and I feel even more honored to be in their lives.

I know this is kind of mushy. In the midst of all that is not swell in the world, this might feel too sugary or self-indulgent. I thank Carla, Pilar, Cathy, Terri, Lauren, Lisa, Johanna, Barb, Amy, Shari, Carrie, Beth, Toye, Linh, Liam, Aunt Kathy, Uncle Doug, Miae, Kerry Ann, Jackleen, and Vicky for making this trip a good one. And even though this is not a political post or going to save the world from imploding, it keeps me sane to know that love can still be found in the company of dear people who call me 'friend' and who are my family.

Sorry, but not sorry. Love will always win.

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