When I was a child, my friendships were created by walking together to school, sitting next to each other in the cafeteria, and being chosen for the kickball team at recess. Later in my life, I remember having coffee with my friends as our babies played nearby and I wouldn’t think of going a day without talking to my friend on the phone. I made friends sitting next to other mom’s as our children played soccer and baseball. I have had coworkers that became close confidants and soul connections. Now in our fast-paced world do we know what having a close friend is? Do we confuse friendship with acquaintance? Is friendship defined by a blue thumbs up on social media? Do these cartoon thumbs really represent a person that touches our heart or are many of them there for self-acknowledgment – the more the better. I asked the question- “What is your definition of a Friend?” to a progression of ages. A 6- year old answered, “They are nice, funny.” A 9-year-old responded with, “They are nice and they like who you are, not for how you look but for who you are.” A 12-year-old reacted with, “Best pal, your forever buddy, someone who will be there if times get tough.” Another 12-year-old replied, “Friendship is a bond that can’t easily be broken. Friends know what you’re going to say/do before you do it. They know what you are feeling.” A 17-year-old quickly reacted with, “Friends are people that are loyal to each other.” A 47-year-old answered, “Friends are people who make your problems their problems so you don’t have to go through it alone.” A 69-year-old said, “Someone I am always there for and they are always there for me.” An 86-year-old said thoughtfully, “I tend to like people I have always been friends with. If you live to be old and can count your friends on the fingers of one hand- great! If you have more, that’s a bonus!” An 87-year-old answered – “Somebody that you can rely on to ask personal questions and she won’t tell anyone else and you do things together.” I would agree with all these definitions. My definition would be someone that I hold mutual support, encouragement and trust with. Someone I can laugh with and cry with. Someone, the first one, I would call at 2 AM to tell good news or bad. Friendship morphs, stagnates, and disintegrates during different stages and circumstances in life. There are many reasons for the ebb and flow, closeness or detachment of a friendship. Location plays a huge role. As a child moving across town changes the dynamic of friendship. For me, growing up in a military family moves across the country plunked me into new schools and new populations. I learned how to make friends on the playground or stand alone. Divorce will create a situation of dividing property, belongings and yes, friends. As we age, death and illness become a reality of life. Friends may pass away before us or become physically or mentally unable to participate in a friendship. I have lived many places and I have had many friendships. Some are lasting like my oldest friend in life – shout out to Kristi. Some have faded due to relocation. Some have been shattered from broken trust. Some have been lost through division of divorce and separation of death. I wonder if, as our friend circle shrinks, should we be trying to make new friends? Or is my small inner circle of trusted friends enough. No matter where you are in this cycle of life or what your definition of a friend is my hope for you is that you have at least one. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Pennie’s Life Lesson “When you find a friend hold them close to your heart. A true friendship should be valued and honored.” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ YOUR TURN...
Share your thoughts and experiences relating to this post in a comment below . And please feel free to email me at: [email protected]. Thank you! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ All Rights Reserved Copyright © 2013-2020 Pennie Hunt This was written and produced by Pennie Hunt. Feel free to forward and share this post. Please keep the entire message intact, including contact, logo, and copyright information.
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I felt overwhelmed. With several speaking engagements ahead of me, blogs to write and my self-imposed deadline for the completion of my book, I felt like the toilet had just overflowed. You know, that panicked feeling of running to get the plunger as the water overflows and every towel you own is being thrown on the floor in an effort to control. The smell of not feeling Good Enough was quickly rising to the top of my bowl. How would I ever get it all done? So I did the logical thing - I turned the valve to off. I stopped the gushing stream that overflowed my mind and walked away from all the fear, pressure and commitments. I went outside and dug holes. I put my hands in the black dirt. I dug holes for tomato plants. I dug holes for bushes. I dug holes for geraniums and marigolds. I layered each hole with peat moss, potting soil and vermiculite and then gently placed plants inside carefully pushing the earth around the roots and up to the stems. My body eased and relaxed as I enjoyed the process of nurturing. My mind did nothing except watch the movement of my hands. It had emptied to a space of quiet silence with no worries of deadlines or commitments. The valve remained OFF. Suddenly it became very clear to me how easy it would be to complete all of my obligations. I had just been “Layering” myself in a dangerous way. Instead of layering myself with the joy of what I was doing in the same loving way I layered the soil around the plants, I had been layering myself in a negative way... I wasn’t being gentle, careful or kind. I was being self-demanding to the point of overwhelm. No wonder I felt blocked like the water was flooding over. In the process, instead of allowing my roots to stretch in the delightful enjoyment of these life opportunities I had tightened myself into a root bound knot with two options. I could either continue to squeeze the grip around myself forever running in an effort to control or I could clear my mind, do nothing and allow myself the time to relax into the joy of life. Meditation comes in many forms. Today it arrived while my hands were in the dirt and I realized that when you allow your mind the space to do nothing - it becomes easier to do everything. YOUR TURN...
Share your thoughts and experiences relating to this post in a comment below . And please feel free to email me at: [email protected]. Thank you! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ All Rights Reserved Copyright © 2013-2020 Pennie Hunt This was written and produced by Pennie Hunt. Feel free to forward and share this post. Please keep the entire message intact, including contact, logo, and copyright information. It sits in the garage. Everyone wonders why I keep it. The dust and dirt of the seasons covers it. I walk by it every day as the months and years come and go. Twice a year I drive it. I slide in the seat. The smell of him is fading and the air freshener he tucked in the vent is beginning to crumble. I carefully back down the driveway. The gear shift is tight with age. The windows rattle and the water seeps in as I drive it through the car wash. The repair shop asks me why I want the oil changed when there has only been 50 miles driven since the last service. I don’t tell them. When I drive I feel his arms blend with mine as our hands in unison hold the steering wheel. I push in his Bob Dylan cassette and it crackles loudly through the speakers. Our hands drum to the beat. And we are off. We drive together, he and I, through 22 years of memories; the good, the painful, the magical and the tragic. We find ourselves in a place where here and there - now and then doesn't matter. A place where love binds us back together. When I carried him I wanted to experience and remember every moment of my pregnancy and every un-medicated contraction during his arrival. It would be my last passage through the process. I re-live these now. His first steps, his first words and his first day of school blur into the yellow lines of the road we travel. We drive by the baseball field where his Little League Tournaments were played and the skate park responsible for his first stitches. We stop at the gardens where the stone holds his name and the saying by Rumi. We pass the gas station where I bought his last tank of gas. The wind whistles as we drive through town by his apartment and onto the interstate where we drive fast as our thoughts and pain escalate I hear his fishing poles and baseball equipment rattle in the back. The speed is cleansing. Together we sing, we laugh, we shout, we cry. We say prayers of gratitude for his life, our life together, his brother, his sister, family, friends -- and his daughter. I hear the echo from so many years ago when the phone rang with a voice telling me he was gone. Carefully, I position it back in the garage. Bob Dylan stops. Time is put in park as I feel his beard brush against my cheek and, “I love you, mom,” hums in my ears. I answer, “I love you too, honey. I love you so.” Another anniversary of that phone call comes to an end. His birthday will be here soon. Until then it sits in the garage. Everyone wonders why I keep it. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Pennie’s Life Lesson: “Love binds us together no matter what separates us." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ J.T. (Jameson Tanner) Lindemann 1985-2007 YOUR TURN...
Share your thoughts and experiences relating to this post in a comment below . And please feel free to email me at: [email protected]. Thank you! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ All Rights Reserved Copyright © 2013-2020 Pennie Hunt This was written and produced by Pennie Hunt. Feel free to forward and share this post. Please keep the entire message intact, including contact, logo, and copyright information. The banker on the other end of the phone line asked my husband if he knew Frank. Yes, he did. Did he know that he had passed away and the bank held an account for Frank that listed my husband as a joint owner? No, he didn’t. When he put the phone down his face, which moments before was happy and free of distress, was now lined with disbelief and sadness. He looked at me and said, “I wish I would have called him to have lunch last month when I thought about it.” Although my husband talked about Frank often, he hadn’t been in close contact with his friend in some time. The sudden shock of his passing immediately led to regret for the missed opportunities that he would never be able to do over. In life we are given moment by moment opportunities to make phone calls, to write notes, to share meals, to be kind and to give the gift of our time to those we love and care for. At times you may wonder if it is something you should do or not. When you are trying to decide, use this meter to judge -- After the opportunity passes will you say, "I’m glad I did!" Or will you say: "I wish I would have!" This makes the decision so much easier. If you visualize how you would feel afterward and you are glad you did it, then it’s the right thing to do. If you visualize being sorry you missed the opportunity, especially if there is no chance for a do-over, then it’s the right thing to do. If neither of these answers fit, then maybe it isn’t something you need to do, but be very clear before you take this path. Living in the regret of “wishing you would have” is a sad place to be. Take advantage of your next opportunity and be proud to say, “I’m glad I did.” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Pennie’s Life Lesson: “We are given moment by moment opportunities that you will either be glad you did or wish you would have – which will it be?" ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Pennie Heart to Heart GLAD YOU DID- WISH YOU WOULD HAVE YOUR TURN... My intent in sharing this with you is to encourage you to think about your moment by moment opportunities... how will you respond? Share your thoughts and experiences relating to this post in a comment below . And please feel free to email me at: [email protected]. Thank you! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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