Bridges

A lot of people would have turned back when they got to where the bridge used to be, especially in January, with snow on the ground. Even after hiking at least four miles, most would prefer to backtrack four miles than do what we were about to do - wade through mid-calf-length, freezing cold water. But we are DDIPers. We take on challenges like this for fun. One by one, we crossed,  placing one foot after another on the slippery rocks, and being very careful not to fall. Captain Cook didn't want me to take her picture, but I did it anyway. Only because no one offered to take one of me and I felt this had to be documented. After crossing, we paused to regroup and continued on the trail in our freezing, sopping wet shoes and big, goofy grins.

I've had a lot on my mind lately about relationships and how people communicate with each other. I mentioned before how important words are to me and a lot has been going on in my life regarding words, both spoken and unspoken. How they can build bridges of friendship and how they can tear them down.  

There is a man I really look up to, who passed away a few months ago after a long battle with cancer. He  said something once that I'll never forget. He said, "it is always in your best interest to make other people look good." I would venture to add that it is also in your best interest to make them feel good. I think he would agree with me.

While in the hospital undergoing painful, draining treatments, he still shared a smile and a kind word with everyone he encountered. In the midst of his deepest suffering, he would still ask how you were doing, and actually care about the answer. He was known for it by both hospital staff and other patients. No matter how big his problem was, he still cared about the feelings and concerns of others.

I enjoy making people feel good about themselves. I have been known to send a text out of the blue to someone with a cheery hello and a compliment. This may be selfish, but I love what I get out of that. I get to see how happy it makes them to be remembered. To be appreciated. And sometimes they say nice things back, which is icing on the cake.

So, in thinking about words, I've compiled a little list. It is by no means exhaustive, but includes some of the best examples I can think of for bridge-building words:

1. I'm here if you need anything.
2. You are worth my time.
3. I'm listening.
4. I'm sorry.
5. I forgive you.

Heart of Stone

She walked along the creek with her daddy, talking about things that occupy an eleven-year-old's mind. One of the stones on the ground caught her eye and she picked it up to show him. It was shaped like a heart, which made it an instant keepsake of their day together. The stone was smooth from being beaten with water and rolled in the creek for who knew how long. Amazing how something so beautiful and meaningful could come from such harsh conditions.

I thought I would feel better today but I started out feeling down and spent most of the day wallowing in self pity. I kept replaying in my mind everything that has been said or done recently that has made me feel worthless and despised. I'm not saying anyone set out to make me feel that way, just that I felt it. Sometimes our minds make up their own interpretations.

I've talked to several people lately who are having their own struggles with self esteem. It's really sad when people don't realize their value. One young lady has been told unthinkable things by her mother and step-mother, things that made her feel unlovable and unloved. She yearns for someone to love, who will love her back, but always has those little voices inside telling her she's not worth it, keeping her down and challenging any personal victory she might have.

Another friend is always surprised when I compliment her looks, or her inner beauty that makes her one of the nicest people I've ever met. She says that people just don't say these things to her. She has gone through something recently that really tore her self esteem apart. I don't know the details, I only recognize the sadness. I see it in so many people.

I want the people in my life to know how precious and valuable they are. There is a reason for their lives. There are people who love them, even if they can't see or hear them through all those inner voices trying to scramble the signal. Being dashed on the rocks hasn't destroyed them. It has only enhanced their beauty. It is how they became who they are. They are beautiful.

Letters

We sat on the side of the creek with our fishing gear. Not a lot of gear, just what I felt comfortable using without my husband's help, since he was at work that day. The baby was in his car carrier on the ground next to me, sleeping peacefully, while I fished with my friend. It was fun to have girl talk in a not-so-girl setting, and I was proud of myself for not waiting for my man to help me. I was pretty sure he would be proud, too. After all, how many men have a wife who is interested in fishing - enough to go on her own? I took a picture of a snake in the water. We caught a few fish. It was a lovely afternoon on that Florida creek. I would have enjoyed the camping trip I missed out on years ago.

The summer after my high school graduation, I disappointed some of my closest friends. I had a boyfriend at the time and I chose to skip a week at the state park, camping with my friends to be home with him. My friends and I had planned that week for a long time, and talked at great length of the memories we would make this last summer vacation before moving on to the next phase of our lives. But I backed out and someone else went in my place.

One of my friends was especially angry. There may have been other things going on at the time that I can't remember, but for some reason she was done with me. She no longer spoke to me, and left for the military without ever saying goodbye. I was crushed.

I didn't give up on her, though. I knew that she was going to need support and encouragement during her basic training, far away from her family. I decided to give her that support whether she wanted it or not. I didn't care if she didn't write back, I sent letters regularly. I never heard from her the entire time. I forget how many weeks it was, but I'm sure she remembers.

There was probably a bit of stubbornness in that decision, but there was also a lot of real concern for her as well. Sometime after she completed her training, she contacted me. We went back to being friends, maybe not as close as we had been before, but we spent time together again. She told me that my letters had been a big help to her while she was away.

I didn't do that so I could tell the story later and look like the good guy. I did it because I truly care about my friends. We had been through too much together to let one big fight destroy everything. There are people in my life now who mean that much to me but they may not realize it. I wonder sometimes who would do that for me. I'm feeling a little bit down today. I'm not sure why, but everything is irritating me and I just want to wrap up in the warmth of my home and family. Tomorrow will be better.

Dragonfly

The instant I had the camera steady and focused, index finger on the button, it darted away again. I watched it move restlessly from one leaf to another, barely stopping. There were four or five of them - dragonflies or damselflies, I can never tell the difference - and none were willing to pose for me. They were a test of both my patience and the zoom feature on my camera. After pursuing them for a good five minutes, one paused just long enough for me to see, adjust, focus, and snap a picture.

Sometimes it seems like life is just a constant pursuit of a moving target. We are always reaching for something, waiting for something, that is just beyond our grasp. As kids we want to be teenagers. As teens we want to go to college. In college we dream of that perfect career, and/or having a family of our own.

As soon as we reach a goal, we set a new one. It's good to move forward, to reach and strive for something bigger and better. But when will it be time for contentment? Leo Tolstoy wrote a short story called "How Much Land Does a Man Need" about a man who was never content with what he had, but always wanting more, until he lost everything in his pursuit of it. Is that the circle of life - want, build up, acquire, want more, lose it all? That would be so sad!

I don't feel that contentment is the same as saying, "I have more than that person," or "at least I don't have to go through what they are going through." To me, contentment is that moment when you look around and think to yourself, "right now, there is nothing that I need to make me happy."

This doesn't seem to come easy to most people. Overwhelmed by responsibilities and needs and desires, we constantly pursue that moving target without ever stopping to enjoy the feeling of contentment. But if we stop darting about in our pursuits, and let time stand still for just a few moments to enjoy where we are, doesn't that make it all worthwhile?

One Hundred Paces

My flashlight gave just enough illumination for me to see where my steps would fall. I paused frequently to shine it up and around, ensuring I was not approaching any other hunters as I walked. Once I reached the end of the clearing, I turned left and began to count my steps... one... two... three... At number one hundred, I found a tree and sat down. That's how my husband told me to do it and it's worked every year to get me to a familiar place to wait. This is the only place I will venture out into the woods on my own in the dark, because here, I know where I stand.

I have to work today, a Saturday, and I'm really not excited about it. Our summer catalogs are just starting to reach our customers and this is when we get a lot of calls. It's not the customers with orders that bother me, but the people who, for whatever reason, received our catalog unsolicited, and are very angry about it. I mean very angry. To the point of seething, bitter, verbal abuse and threats to call the attorney general. Oh yes. Even that. I had one of those just yesterday, followed by the words "you got that?" spat into the phone. Really? Is it that bad?

But then, I'm not one to talk about taking things personally. Where they take unsolicited mail as a personal attack, I tend to internalize other people's anger, especially when it seems to be directed at me. It's bad enough hearing it from anonymous voices on the phone but to hear it from someone close to me is severely painful. I spent a large portion of yesterday fighting tears and feeling like the biggest burden a friend could have, for expressing concern over something trivial at a time when my friend had bigger problems.

I questioned whether I am really not very good at being a friend. After all, I recently lost a friend who told me I was insensitive. Am I really? I feel like I am a fairly good listener. I encourage my friends to vent to me when they are upset or worried. But when something is on my mind, I seem clumsy about finding the right time to talk about it.

When something is said to me out of hurt and frustration, whether I'm the one who caused it or not, I take it personally. I know I shouldn't - maybe that's what makes me selfish, internalizing other people's anger. It seems like, once someone vents, they feel better. But then I feel bad, and continue to carry their anger and frustration around with me. Once when we had been arguing, my husband asked me, "why do you get mad when I'm mad?" I wish I knew.

I'm not only sensitive about what people say to me, but how my words might make others feel. Once, when my oldest son was in second grade, I had yelled at him before school. After dropping him off, I felt terrible, and didn't want him to go through his day feeling the way I must have made him feel, so I went back to the school, pulled him out of class, and apologized to him.

I work hard at being a good listener. I actually prayed, years ago, that God would make me a better listener, and He immediately provided me with a friend who loved to talk! I don't always know what to say, but I try to listen. I think now I need to work on letting go of hard feelings when someone turns their anger on me unintentionally. I am really afraid to pray for that, knowing what it would take to bring it about.

The Pooh Tree

It isn't a long hike, but it's very popular. Beginning at the nature center, the trail winds through Peace Valley Park, marked with signs that say "Pooh Tree". There is no sign at the tree, because it is easy to recognize once you arrive. Its wide stance is its only support, because there is nothing in the middle. The opening in the trunk is large enough that our family of six is able to squeeze in, though usually one stays outside to take pictures. Though the inside has rotted away, many people find it to be a beautiful destination for a day hike with young children. Many trees have this defect - a hole rotted out somewhere. As unpleasant as that sounds, this defect is where many animals make their homes.

Sometimes it really surprises me to hear people talk about their flaws. A certain person comes to mind who looks flawless, confident, fit, and healthy, but I have heard her point out things she doesn't like about her appearance. No matter how perfect a person may look to the rest of the world, there is usually some area of self doubt and insecurity.

The famous poem begins with "How do I love thee, let me count the ways...", then proceeds to list all the beautiful reasons. We don't look for the flaws in the people we love, we admire the things we find attractive. While a young lady stands in front of her sweetheart, self conscious about the scar on her chin, her lover gazes at her beautiful eyes, feeling like the luckiest man in the world.

Sometimes we even find the "flaws" beautiful. They are what make us unique. Every day there is a long line of people waiting to see the Liberty Bell, yet I would venture to guess that more people come to see the crack in the side of the bell than to learn the historical significance of it.

Children often point out differences, not realizing that someone may feel insecure or embarrassed. A few days ago a young boy noticed something about me and asked about it. Wishing we could change the subject, I simply said it's been there my whole life. His next words were priceless. He said, "that's cool!"

I've read lots of romantic books and seen lots of romantic movies and the description of the love interest almost always includes some endearing feature that makes that person unique: a crooked smile, a goofy grin, unruly bangs that fall into her eyes...

A song I love has the line, "it's a shame that she don't see what I see..." It's easy to see past the flaws in the people we love, or to see those flaws as beautiful, but it is so hard to do the same for ourselves. At least, it is for me.

Assumptions

My little boy saw it first, rustling in the grass next to the trail. His quick glance caught my eye, and then I saw it too. It moved fast, then stopped as I edged closer, careful not to make too much noise, for fear of scaring it away. I was pretty sure I knew what it was, but I had to see for myself. Finally, I was able to make out the small snake, which kept very still, eyeing me cautiously. I smiled and whispered to my son to come closer and look. He crouched down and looked carefully before  announcing with all the authority a ten-year-old could possess, "it's not a venomous snake. I can tell by the shape of its head."

My husband is very good at examining things in nature to find out if they are dangerous or benign. It comes from a lifetime of interest in the subject, survival training in the military, and a degree in biology. It seems that, wherever there is something dangerous, there is often an innocent look-alike, using their dangerous appearance as a defense mechanism.

This doesn't worry my husband. He knows what to look for, and he studies it carefully before determining its identity. Whether it is an animal, a plant, or a mushroom, he gets to know it before making a judgement. He gets to know it before he sees it with research and training, then he studies it in person to compare what he has learned.

Today I had a beautiful opportunity to spend time with someone I thought I knew. I see this lovely lady on a regular basis, but always assumed she didn't think much of me. I didn't really have a solid reason for thinking that, and, looking back, I'm not sure why I ever thought it at all.

A few days ago, she mentioned that she thought I was hard to read. She wasn't sure what I was thinking. I found this incredibly amusing, considering I felt the same way about her, so I told her so. Her response to me was fantastic. She declared that it was time to get to know each other. So today, having a rare weekday off from work, I acted on it and asked her to have lunch with me. I'm so glad I did.

This has me wondering how we determine where people fit into our lives. I always hear the question "what is love" - it's the subject of dozens of songs, books, and movies. But I wonder what friendship is, and how it happens. Twice - that I know of - in the last year, I have misjudged someone. I'm so glad, in this case, to find out I was wrong.