I'm going to apologize in advance. I miss blogging. While I can pick and choose various pottery topics to discuss, I want to use this space much in the way I've used previous blogging spaces. And sometimes those topics won't have a thing to do with clay or spinning wheels. I hope you'll bear with me. Writing was a passion before pottery.
Tonight I had the opportunity to dine with a friend who kept me steady when I thought I lost the ability to keep my head above water. Now...he'll tell you I was never that weak. Never a victim. Never that susceptible to capsizing. But in the moment, he knew that truth better than I did.
Shortly thereafter, as is common in some ties, we found ourselves drifting into a long lull of non-communication. Life happens. Work happens. People get overwhelmed. You look up and you realize it's been years since you talked to someone that you truly miss in a way words can't always describe.
We stumbled across each other recently. Actually, stumble is a poor verb to describe what happened. I reached out for him and not much later, he reached back. We met tonight for dinner to catch up on all that's happened since we last spoke. Three hours later we managed to give each other sufficient summations and then we just sat back and marveled at each other. Where we were emotionally, mentally when last we spoke...and where we are today. We've both had our share of lessons, but looking back, none so big that we couldn't become stronger and better and wiser for them.
We talked about the irony in the gift of time. Life provides it to us when we least expect it. And when it does, we often complain or curl into a ball of depression at the "end" of something. A relationship. A job. A "status." We get so lost in our sorrow about what's happening, that we completely overlook the fact that with the "end" of anything there is an opportunity. For rest. For evaluation. For consideration. For growth. For designing something better than you could have imagined while you were distracted by other things. Eventually, life cycles back around and you're back in something. A new relationship. A new job. A new status. And before you can even experience the joy of that, you look back on the space you just left - wishing you had the emotional maturity to enjoy it for what it was. A necessary respite before the next journey. That is not to say that what comes will be dreadful, but whatever it is - good or bad, it will require work and compromise and commitment. No time for emotional and mental wanderlust where you don't have to consider anyone's needs and wants or wishes other than your own. Those are times to be treasured, but instead we spend our days looking out on the painted pictures of other people's lives believing we're missing something or being punished - mourning the fact that we've had to release something with no appreciation for the benefits of enduring adversity.
We are different now, this friend and I. Granted, we still look the same and sound the same... But there's a knowing we have in our respective lives that we didn't have just a few short years ago. As we shared scars and battle tales, we enjoyed the fact that the beauty of trauma and distress are the opportunities they bring for deeper growth. We have learned to enjoy the "pauses" that life brings. We are never as lost as we think we are. If you hold on, all waters quiet in their own time.
Try and enjoy the waves as they come...and go.