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| Special friends |
Introverts are known to have fewer friends than extroverts. For me, it's about a limited energy level and wanting to engage in deeper one-on-one relationships, which also require more time. Sometimes, and this is one of those times, I am reminded of the special role each friend has played in my life.
There was Sally (her husband had the same first name as my husband and they lived next door to us), who listened to me process my first divorce. On many occasions, I'd wander over to her kitchen for coffee and a conversation that was always about me. She never advised, inserted an opinion, or judged; she just listened and supported me during the most difficult phase of my life.
There was Diane, a new friend who loaned me money when I was down to my last few dollars, telling me to take my time paying it back. Through her trust and generosity, she literally pulled me out of hell. Women like Sally and Diane have blessed my life over and over again in the last 45 years; without exception, they helped define me.
These last few weeks have been difficult (refer to entries Anchors and Aging and Twelve Questions); I've been down in the dumps and fearful of the future. It all began when I looked in the mirror and studied the deeper lines, disappearing eyes, and sagging skin. My changing appearance became much more than mere vanity; it represented the harbinger of things to come. At that very moment, I knew I was entering a new and challenging phase of life, fraught with all kinds of change and loss. I knew I'd better embrace this process and all that comes with it, or be disappointed and depressed the rest of my life. All of a sudden, and not knowing where to start, there appeared an emotion so strong, I felt like I was being dragged out to sea by an undertow.
It took a long walk with a confidante to realize how vital my friendships really are and how they serve as one of my anchors. Like my friend, Sally, my close pal listened for a full mile or more as I told her what I was putting myself through. A couple times a month, we walk on a park path that is just about a mile around; and if we have a big topic to discuss, we measure its importance by how many rounds it will take to sort things out. That being determined, the other person is all ears as the ground is laid; and at some point, she is informed enough to ask gentle questions or share her wisdom pertaining to the issue at hand. Often, we joke about the other's agenda and ask just how many rounds it will take to get to the heart of the matter, knowing full well, time is not an issue. We put the other first in all those discussions, and we do it fully present for one another.
My friends have given me gifts of generosity, compassion, kindness, and love (and a large dose of patience), asking nothing in return. Without them -- friends from early childhood, school, college/post-graduate studies, and my jobs; friends who were mothers of my sons' friends, neighbors, or wives of my husband's colleagues -- I would not have learned how to be a friend myself. These women are not only anchors that keep me grounded; they are my teachers and mentors.
A new friend recommended a video done by Shawn Achor (www.ted.com/speakers/shawn achor.html). Achor (in some places, 'Anchor') is the ceo of Good Think Inc., who teaches positive psychology. I was struck by one thing he said about social support: it is the greatest predictor of happiness and success. But, he adds, when it comes to social networks like Facebook, the friends who add most to our lives are the ones we've actually met.
I've been all over the map with Facebook, not knowing whether to silently slip away or stick with it. My real friends draw me back in, mainly because I want to see their lives evolve through photos and comments. Looking at the precious photos of Nancy's granddaughters provides me with enough happiness to last several days. It's inspiring to see how well Robyn is adjusting to a new town - with energy I envy; and it's inspiring to watch, in real time, Jan brave chemo with strength and courage, continuing to do what she loves.
There are times I forget that friends are critical to my sense of self and well-being, that each one brings a happiness and supportive element to my life that I couldn't get elsewhere. Each one accepts me for the hermit I am, which adds to my joy.
Walking and talking with my friend gave me a boost -- so much so, that I was reminded how much I value all the sensitive, caring women whose paths have crossed mine....and how much I need them still. I can only hope, in some small way, I have given them something in return. What I owe them now, is to keep their legacies alive in all the friendships I continue to value and try to nurture.
(c) Sally Z McBain
