Past meets present

Asking my closest friends to describe me seems like its born out of a desire to be affirmed and adored, like I'm trolling for compliments. I'm not--but if I was, I would probably ask them to describe the things they like about me and why I kick ass at doing friendship. 

It's important for me to know how I feel, what intentions motivate my thoughts and actions, and how I move through the world. I also want to know how those intentions & actions, along with my presence, is perceived by the people I choose to share space, time, wine, and couches with.

The dance of becoming is recursive and collaborative. It is a mirror reflection of my writing process: 

  • Remove a piece of my self
  • Turn it over in my hands, examine every angle and indentation
  • Translate what I see and feel into words
  • Use those words to show & tell everyone what I see and feel
  • Invite them to see and hold that piece
  • Listen with open heart to what they say about what they see
  • Realize (repeatedly, over time) that the Truth of who I am is multidimensional and multivocal

Part of who I am is who I surround myself with, ask myself to learn from, and grown into. 

I asked my serendipitous soul sister to describe me and I'll include it here in its entirety because it's stunning (like her) and because I want to remember that who I want to be to the people I love is sometimes who I already am.
*****

I’ve been sitting here, staring at this bloody blinking cursor, for well over a half hour. “I need you to describe me,” she asked. But, how am I supposed to portray one of the most consistently amazing and inspiring people in my life? I could go on and on about how she makes me want to be a better person, but the honest truth is that she changes my life every day. And, she has since day one when she casually slid into my DMs and spoke our friendship into existence.

She is the giver of grace. In the moments I need her, she unhesitatingly holds space for me. She sees me: my best, the good, the lonely, and the devastatingly ugly moments when the bottom is the only thing palpable. And, she reminds me that it is okay. The bottom is still a surface. Bottom be the bottom, it is still generally a solid something. It is okay to be where you are, to plant your gardens there, to live. She teaches me to live well inside my truth. That it is okay to feel my feelings and “cry my own tears,” as she so often says. To see more, feel more, and laugh like hell in the process of it all.

She is Ghaleesi: a collective mash-up of fiery wisdom, soul-filled beauty, and quirk. My eternal reminder to live fabulously. Every day, she leads me by her example of this simple truth: it is a privilege to love yourself.

It is a privilege to love you, my dearest friend. There are not enough words, enough time, or energy to rightly describe just how much so.
*****
If I can't be anything else in this world other than her friend and witness, I will know that who I have become is the luckiest star in her twinkling sky.