Strange things have been happening recently. I don’t know what to make of it really, but I am keeping my eyes, ears, and heart open. I don’t want to ignore anything. Each little whisper is a guiding voice. Something directing me to where I need to be in the moment.
This past weekend I was in San Diego for a funeral of a dear friend. She was someone who could charm an entire room in seconds and then moments later offend them all just as fast. She followed her heart and lived her life her way. She had dark times and hard times, but I don’t know many who don’t. She was a friend I had not spoken with in years. Not on purpose, just that our lives had slowly gone on separate paths. My heart aches for the loss of that friendship, and that we will never have a chance to rekindle it either. I am glad I made the trip to say goodbye.
On my trip, I was listening to everything around me. Taking in the moments as they were passing. Enjoying the time I was spending with my friends. Appreciating new experiences and opening myself to meeting new people. These are all things I never took the time to do in the past. I often turned a cold shoulder to people. Afraid of what they would think of me. Afraid they would judge me, but all I was doing was judging them. Not this weekend. I was open. I listened. I smiled. And I truly enjoyed the people I was with. I felt loved by one of my best friends, like I have never felt before. I knew she loved me, but when she professed her love and appreciation on the airplane to me and our friend Mamie as we were landing, I welled up with tears and a cry lump formed in my throat. Then I called her an asshole. (XO Maureen)
There were adventures that played out with my best friend Jenn, who picked me up after the funeral so I could spend some time with her. Adventures that will be stories we share when we sit around fire pits years from now, sippin’ our tea and reminiscing about the good ol’ days. The morning after the funeral Jenn and I took a hike to the water tower near her house. We planned it around my flight, so we would have plenty of time to get to the airport. We took the path she trusted was the right path, and as we walked along she started to question the left we had taken at the fork towards the beginning of our hike. The path was a little steeper and longer than she had recalled. We still reached the water tower, took some photos and laughed about that left we took at the fork in the path.
On our way back down to the car we talked about how often times, the destination isn’t always as memorable as the journey to get there. She shared some stories of road trips and those pit stops along the way like Dorothy’s House in Liberal, Kansas. I told her about my encounter with the Worlds’ Largest Thermometer in Baker, CA. Two experiences that weren’t part of our destinations, but created wonderful memories that we carry to this day.
A few minutes later we received the text. The text that told us I had confused my arrival time with my departure time. My flight was in 45 min and we were 25 minutes away from the airport. The race was on. We rushed to her house, sweaty from our hike in our day glow shoes, grabbed my stuff and hopped back in the car. Like a crazy ninja driver, Jenn weaved her way through the freeways and to the airport and with 18 minutes to spare I attempted to get my boarding pass. NO CHANCE AT ALL. Even though my two dear friends who were successfully on the plane were telling me via text that people were still boarding, the ticketing agent had to tell me no.
I missed my flight.
Another one of those journeys we can all chatter about for years to come. The day Gina missed her flight and Maureen and Mamie made the flight, despite circumstances that would have led me to believe they would have missed the flight instead. Never can I mock Maureen for running late again. I am forever cursed as the friend who missed their flight.
But in missing that flight I was able to stop and smell the roses. I didn’t lose my mind and turn it into a travel nightmare. I made the most of the situation. I was bumped to the next flight, texted Jenn and she came to pick me up so we could shower, relax, and laugh.
Now I am home again and the little whispers keep making themselves heard. Like just a few minutes ago while I was looking for some of my daughters toys in the garage I found this:
This is our Circle Journey. A journal that we write in and then send it on to the next one in the group. We are in all different cities, so it’s not often that we see each other. I am in Northern California, Jenn is in Southern California, Sharon (Jenn’s Mom) is in Texas, Jaysa (Jenn’s Sister) is in Illinois, and Jaimee (Jenn’s youngest sister) is in New Mexico. When I found this in my garage I grabbed it and saw the last entry was from 2006. I seemed to have dropped the ball. I ran to my room, wrote my entry and then went to the first page to read all of our old entries. I saw the date of the first entry and my jaw dropped.
I am paying attention.
I am listening to the little whispers. They are obviously guiding me in the right direction.