Friends - my 100th post? Egad!

I am lucky.

The friends I choose to have are absolutely brilliant people.

Are yours?

Why are they brilliant? Without naming names, let me tell you of two of them.

We allow each other to be who and what we are.

No, we don’t do it perfectly. So take that notion right out of your head. In fact, let the concept that things must be perfect sit in a safe place from which you can reclaim it at the end of this tale. Fret not, it will be safe, it is in a container of your own devise, which you can open and close at will.

Moving on …

One example of why these are two people I have allowed within the confines of “close friends”?


No matter whether they wondered “what will others think of her/us?” -- they joined me in play.

I’m a playful creature, it’s how I explore, learn, and teach. It’s an intrinsic part of my spirit.

I play alone. I play in the company of others. I play when I work. I play no matter what I do.

Even in the midst of a restaurant during their brisk dinner trade.

So when I nearly stepped on a crayon dropped inadvertently by a youngster at a table I walked past --

I couldn’t resist.

Can you imagine it? A fine restaurant that supplies a beautiful basket with enough crayons to keep hands moving and paper to draw on?

Every restaurant that allows children in could have such a thing and it would be wonderous!

Me: “Waiter?”
Waiter: ::nodding::
Me: “I’m having a second childhood. Would you bring crayons to our table?”
Waiter: (paraphrase because I don’t remember exactly what he said) “Absolutely!” (what I do remember is he smiled. A genuine smile, non-judgmentally, and within seconds …

Voila! The magick basket of crayons was at our table.

Waiter: “Let me get you some paper to draw on.”
Me: “Thank you!”

Immediately I scribbled onto my paper with my chosen colors and proudly showed my drawing to my two cohorts.

You see one of my drawings at the top of this post "Pirates Rule!"  (You have to turn your head to view it, that's on purpose, I wanted to help  you change your viewpoint. ::grin::  ::blinks innocently and puts down her "I'm a jester" card on the table::)

Now — mind you, I am not an artist who draws beautifully. My stick people have a hard time even looking like stick people. My artistry is in performance art — there I shine. But drawing is for the spirit, and it doesn’t need to compare to what those who are so talented in it ( when looking at their pieces you are transported) can draw. All mine has to do is please me.

One of my friends requested one of my coveted pieces of blank paper with delight and I, of course, gave it with the same delight.

I’m not going to show you what they drew because it would be a give-away as to who they are to those who know me. But it was absolutely, the bestest thing ever!

My other friend played the "I'm a dude!"-card on me. He does that to me a lot. And so I was afraid he wasn’t going to draw. But he and I have an unspoken agreement — which, maybe only I know about, but that’s okay. When he plays the "I'm a dude"-card on me, I play the "I'm a jester"-card on him and so, we are still playing.

In this case, I was gifted by a drawing from him of gulls … unbeknownst to him one of the most gracious plays that could have ever been made, as Jonathan Livingston Seagull is one of my heroes.

So in my hands, after all was said and done, I now clutch a drawing from each of my two friends, that can never be replicated in meaning; and four or five of my infamous — “What the heck is that you just drew?” pictures.

I’ll have you know that I actually label what I draw, so others can tell what it is. Unless, of course, it’s the Little Prince who is looking at what I drew, because he can *always* tell what it is I pictured.

But then de Saint Exupery explains about the Little Prince very well. (hint:  read  chapter one, in it you will understand what my meaning is even if you are an adult ::mischievous grin:: )

My friends gave me what I consider the most precious gift of any time or place.

I’m not going to argue with you what is most precious to you, however, I have no issue telling you what is most precious to me …

They gave me their attention, their awareness. They gave me non-judgment. Not once did one of them say, “But what will others think of you? Us?”

And in so doing they gave me the space to deal with half-century old teachings I had learned from my adult-caretakers — and the moment to transform bits and pieces of those unhealthy things I had learned into healthy balanced self-talk.

Me: “Does it matter what others think of me?”

Self: “What you think and feel is what’s important, and if others cannot play, then either you can show them how, or simply let their slings and arrows bounce off without harm.”

Me: “Oh wow. That’s right, I can do that now, can’t I?”

Self: “Absolutely.”

I have learned that it’s okay to be a friend to myself.

I am lucky.

The friends I choose to have are absolutely brilliant people.

Are yours?

You may now reclaim the notions from the container you put them in earlier in my tale. May you grow and flourish … and …

… play.