Ode to True Friends

This is from the September Dare to Blossom newsletter:


Reflections: Ode to True Friends
 

During August I have been taking part in my second course with Fiona Robyn, whose website (Writing Our Way Home) I have mentioned before. The Writing Ourselves Alive course has been an amazing experience sharing written thoughts and pieces of work with a group of people scattered all around the world. We have learnt a little about each other's lives, and a lot about ourselves. The support offered in very different ways by the participants to each person and to the group has been amazing, and all brought together and facilitated by Fiona in a compassionate and inspiring way.

I wanted to share with you a reflective piece I wrote during this time, as you are also all true friends.

Ode to true Friends

Today I am celebrating true friends, past and present. Those I see regularly, those I have never met but share lives with however briefly. And those in between, we just pick up the phone and talk, the gap of weeks, months or years is nothing at all.

 

All of you bring different gifts, each your special and unique quality. We share confidences, thoughts, fears, deep secrets from the past, that often we have told no one else, ever. Things we can't, or won't, talk to our families about.

 

Yesterday, you and I, Maria, shared a magical, wonderful day on the beach. That huge, huge beach that in a storm (winter or summer) has thundering atlantic rollers crashing in. That summer, welcoming beach that yesterday was populated with the ranks of coloured windbreaks, each a temporary encampment for a family.

 

We walked and talked, talked and walked. Down the beach towards the receding low tide, passing the lifeguard station to check the tide really was going out (and will we ever know why that lifeguard was being filmed in a black curly wig and false moustache??!!)

 

We walked and talked all along to the far end of the huge, huge beach. Visiting the ancient cave with the coloured mineralised walls, marvelling at the power of the rocks and the even greater power of the sea to erode them.

 

We talked and walked: through our past, sharing our present, and on into visualising our future. We listened in turn to each other as we paced side by side. Leaving the family-packed beach behind, passing a few people, with seemingly endless space on each side of us - to be free, to be honest, to voice thoughts and ideas we did not know we were thinking until they were shared.

 

We walked and wondered at who had made the mermaid sculpture out of flotsam up on the sand dunes, you said what a masculine-seeming mermaid it was, very strong, and we laughed at the two orange floats on her chest - bright orange boobs.

 

We talked and walked right to the end of the beach where the cliffs that dwarfed us turned and joined the sea. We also turned and met our footsteps coming towards us. We passed them again, a symbol of the talking already done, of our movement forward from some of those past concerns. We smiled as we passed for the second time the line someone had drawn in the sand: "Finishing Line" the big letters read

 

We shared lunch and talked and laughed and talked some more. Families and work and friends, old and new. We felt our absent companion who was unable to join us, and celebrated our three-way friendship this year, so special, so much a soul family. Celebrating the times we have held the space and leaned in for each other, most often when we were physically coping with a big challenge by ourselves, but not alone. Never alone while your spiritual support is there. Deep thanks to you Maria and Anna.

 

Thinking of our wider family of friends past and present, some in our lives for a day, some a year or so, some for ever.

 

Maria, I still have the fridge magnet you gave me:

 

"Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart." (Eleanor Roosevelt)

 

Thank you to everyone reading this: you have all left footprints in my heart.

For you: some suggestions for your journal or meditation reflections:

If it appeals to you, write a letter to someone (or something) you appreciate. This could be someone you love, or someone you don't like very much - appreciating the gifts they bring into your life in the challenges they offer you. It could be a place, a plant, a favourite book. Have fun, and you may be surprised at what you learn. You may be able to share the letter with a person you have written to, or may be not, either way it is a valuable exercise.

Listening

Reflections: Listening

"Everyone deserves a good listening to." (Anon)

I love that quote, though I have been unable to find the author - do let me know if you have a reference or source.

Listening: everyone with hearing uses their ears all the time. We hear the daily hub-bub: TV and radio, music from all around, traffic, birdsong, planes, machinery, water, rain, wind, thunder, people talking, walking, shouting, snoring. We also have the internal hub-bub of our own thoughts continually chattering inside our heads.

Narrowing that down to communication with people around us: how much do we really hear? How often do we offer a "good listening to?"

How do we know when this happens? For me there is a quality of attention that gives me the feeling that I have not only been listened to but also I have been heard. Heard in the sense of acknowledging and witnessing - and seeing (even if not in the literal sense, this can be on the phone) - me, just as I am.

Recently I have had the pleasure and privilege of being on the receiving end of good listening. One example was with Fiona Miller, a life coach based in Christchurch, New Zealand, who is interviewing people in her research on unexpected events that are a catalyst for change. I believe she was prompted by the serious earthquakes that have resulted in huge upheavals (literal and metaphorical) for thousands of people. She has widened out to considering any catalyst for change and I responded to an email from a mutual connection.

We spent over an hour  on Skype one evening (or morning for Fiona), discussing a wide range of subjects and afterwards I reflected on how enriching it felt for me to be able to review events in my life with a true listener. We covered my experience of cancer, redundancy, and various other changes in my life - which were all catalysts for change in some sense. Fiona can be contacted via her website if you would like to contribute to her research.

Other "good listening to" experiences at various times  for me have been the coaching conversations I have had with a number of different people over the years since I first came across life coaching in around 2000. Part of training as a coach - and for various other occupations such as counselling or teaching - is about "active listening". This is when you are truly listening to the other person, listening with all your senses.

When you first experience it as the listened-to person, it can be quite unsettling, alarming even. It can be such an unsual thing to have someone's full and undivided attention. Good listening is about really hearing the other person. Being with them but not necessarily sharing their experience. Hearing them but not immediately trying to "fix" them. "Fixing" suggests there is something wrong, when people may just need to express doubts and fears and find their own answers through the articulation of them to a true listener.

Articulating your thoughts, being heard, and truly hearing yourself, can give birth to deep insights and inspiration. So often I have felt, and heard others say, "I have just said what I needed to know!"

For you: some suggestions for your journal or meditation reflections:

• Who are your "listeners"?
• Who would welcome a "good listening to" from you?
• If you were to listen to your own inner wisdom what would it tell you?
• Experiment with writing a letter to yourself, then read and really listen to what you are saying.

This is such a big and significant topic I will be reflecting more and writing again, and would love to hear your comments or reflections.

Here is another quote to close with:

"The most precious gift we can offer anyone is our attention."
Thich Nhat Hanh 

www.quotegarden.com