I’ve been pondering friendship lately. Why I choose the people I choose as my friends, why I continue to call them ‘friends’ when they obviously don’t consider me to be a very important fixture in their lives…
…and I realize that for many years, I did the same, and it wasn’t because I didn’t care for them, but because I either didn’t know how, or that I was lost in my own bubble. It’s easy to get caught up in your day to day busy-ness that we forget to keep in touch with the people who matter to us, or to stay silent out of fear of rejection.
If you have someone you care about, but haven’t given them the attention that the level of your affection would indicate they deserve… call them. Text them. Email them. Hell… tag them on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram. Let them know they cross your mind.
Today, I called my dad. Of all the people I love, he is probably the most un-aware of my feelings, due to familial habits of interaction.
Who will you reach out to?
I’m wearing a shirt I bought about two years ago and took the tags off of last Friday. It’s buttoned closed, and I feel good.
Have I mentioned yet how awesome I feel?
I feel great. And I’m not sorry for it. I’m not sorry that I feel amazing. I’m not sorry to tell you that I’ve lost 10 pounds (I believe that’s ‘nearly a stone’ across the pond) in the past few weeks without trying. I’m not sorry to say that I have a husband that is so absolutely amazing that I sometimes can’t believe he’s human. Really. It’s just not normal to be that zen in your love for someone… is it?
He sees me at my absolute worst and doesn’t love me ‘in spite of it’… he just loves me. He doesn’t stand there thinking how horrible I’m being, he’s thinking ‘how can I help the woman I love, who is so obviously hurting?‘. It’s just not normal, I tell you… the man is my friggin’ rock.
I’m not sorry to shout to the rooftops that I’m happy. I’m thrilled beyond measure with my life. I’m not sorry that I dislike listening to people complain these days. I’m not sorry that one minute I’m annoyed, and the next minute I’ve figured out how to love you for whatever you’re doing or did, and love myself for not liking whatever you did or didn’t do.
I’m not sorry that I make people acutely aware of their own alignment with their Higher Self, or lack thereof. I’m not sorry that I sometimes don’t recognize my own inconsistencies, but see yours clearly. I’m not sorry that I am sometimes so unaware of my state of misalignment that I get angry when others point it out, that I sometimes take a little longer to see the truth in another’s observations.
This post was longer, but there was an obvious energy shift (as you can see, I was still feeling a bit defiant while writing this. It was written the same day as my previous post over on SS). What I chose to do was to split the posts into two, because they are so obviously written from two different frequencies!
In my last post, I spoke of your priceless gift to me. This post is also about gifts, but it’s about my gift to you.
My gift to you is my honesty. I won’t pretend to be something I’m not in order to get likes, comments, or follows from you. I won’t try to make money from your visit to my attic. I won’t pepper you with Adwords or Affiliate links, and if I recommend something to you, there will be a real-world, non-financially based motive for it. I don’t see any of you as cash cows, future paychecks, or anything other than my silent tribe of support and acceptance.
Now, I make no promises about SS, but this blog is ad free, incentive free, affiliate free… and it will remain so.
Namaste & Blessed be!