Tag Archives: sharing

Shared

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“It’s not nice to be selfish…”

It has been more than 2 months since I wrote a blog post.  These months have been fraught with extremes in my emotions, as I have tried to process some of the relationships in my life and determine which ones matter.  I suppose we all have these moments, times when circumstances force us to realize who needs to stay in our lives and who we need to sever. I’m in the process now, of both bonding and severing.

I remember when I was a little girl, my sweet Mama teaching me how important it was that I learn to share.  “Share your toys, Leslie…”  “It’s not nice to be selfish…”  Being selfish might feel good for a minute, but sharing feels good forever.

A stark, beautiful and painful thing has come to light for me in this process…some people just won’t share.  Anything.  Not time, feelings, words, truth.  As painful as it has been to try to salvage a “friendship” that turned out never to have been genuine in the first place, it has been liberating and beautiful to compare and contrast it to the ones I cherish that are, indeed, the “real deal”.  So more than being sad over what is not, I am happy for what is.

I am happy for the friend who, among other caring gestures, always wants to know I got home safely after we’ve shared supper and said good night.

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I am happy for the lifelong confidante who shares what my company does for her.

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I am happy for the new-ish friend whose genius I admire, whose goofball humor I enjoy since it is much like my own, and whose insight I take to heart.

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I am happy for the friend who sings, laughs and cries with me, who stops when he finds a feather and picks it up to bring to me when we see each other just because he knows that feathers bring me joy.

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And I am happy for the friend whose love for me is abiding, selfless and genuine.

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So, when I have friends in my life, LOVE in my life, like this…why in the name of all that is sacred would I ever settle for anything less?  Answer:  I won’t.  Never again.  Love like this gives me the strength I need to sever from my life the people who don’t care for me.  Because this…this is connection as it should be.  This is love…Shared.

Shelter

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We all need to feel safe…

Recently at work I noticed a small bird on one of the patios, sitting very still.  I thought it might be dead, as often birds fly into the mirrored windowpanes and break their little necks.  But this one was alive, just sitting in the shade of the building, getting wind blown.

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I approached slowly, not wanting to scare it, or hurt it.  But it didn’t fly away, even though there were no visible injuries on its little body.  I think it may have hit the side of the building and just stunned itself temporarily.  Still, it was so exposed I was afraid that a predator might take advantage of its helpless situation.  So, very gently, I approached it…and it let me pick it up!

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I moved it to a place in the mulch between two shrubs where it could have some shelter from the wind and protection from larger animals.  I always feel compassion for the vulnerable ones, those who are exposed, those victimized or exploited by so-called friends who turn out to be emotional predators.  It’s a difficult place to be.

People have always shared their hearts with me, from close friends and family, to workplace peers, to strangers standing in the grocery checkout line.  It’s amazing what people will reveal…and sometimes they regret having done so. I never want anyone to feel sorry that they shared something with me.  My goal is to justify their trust, to cradle them in safety…to offer them a place of Shelter.

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Nine Diamond

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A quilting memory

 

Nine Diamond

The quilt patterns have all kinds of names
Dutch Doll and Dresden Plate
Flower Garden and 

Nine Diamond 

which I never understood because it was squares

I have a Southern Belle made out of Granny’s dresses

When I was little I watched my Granny sew
Little colored squares into
Bright patchwork patterns
On her aproned lap

Many nights I stayed up late
Talking, listening and laughing
With Mama and her sisters
As they sat in straight-backed chairs around the frames

Nimbly stitching through layers of gingham and calico
All the while
Sharing themselves with each other
And with me

“Measure twice, cut once, and
Don‘t be using your good scissors for anything else!
A number 7 needle is what you want to use, the kind
With the gold eye, if you can find them.
And don’t forget your thimble, it’ll save your fingers!”

Still, a thimble would eventually wear through and
That number 7 needle would prick a finger
Leaving a little blood-spot behind
Like a scar on the fabric

Sometimes the scar is what makes a thing
Most beautiful

 

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