New Friends: Thursday's Reflection

Every four to six weeks a group of new friends gather in our home
for a Sunday night potluck supper. Although the food is always good, the conversation is even better. And the connection is growing deeper.

Making new friends is not always easy, and it is even sometimes risky. When we moved to Cleveland many years ago, I was so lonely I imagined standing at a busy intersection with a sign that instead of proclaiming "Need food" or "Need a job," said "Need a friend." 

I did all the usual things: joined a book group at the library, took an aerobics class, greeted neighbors on my daily walks, and became a hospice volunteer. I initiated, which is not easy for me, and invited a new acquaintance with whom I felt some connection, to meet for supper. She readily agreed. My only expectation was for a pleasant evening with someone new, but perhaps I appeared over eager, too needy.

We met at a deli kind of place where we ordered at the counter and then settled at a table. We shared some opening banter and then she announced without any warning, "I just want you to know I don't have room in my life for more friends."

Yes, she really said that. 

Why didn't I pack up my chicken salad sandwich and chocolate chip cookie at that very moment and leave? Needless to say, we didn't become friends, but over the years I have wondered about her. Was there something in her life then that forced her to pull in the welcome mat? 

And I wonder if after all these years she has room now in her life for a new friend. 

I hasten to add that I eventually made some wonderful friends in Ohio, friends who are still an important part of my life today. The encounter with the woman with enough friends offered me a life lesson. I suppose I could have pulled up the drawbridge myself, which would have been the easy thing for this introvert to do, but I have tried not to do that. Instead, I have tried to open myself to new people, to potential friendships.

When we moved to Madison after our years in Ohio, I joined Curves and started working out most mornings. The women were pleasant, but clearly they knew and enjoyed each other's company. One morning, however, the conversation was about an elderly parent, and I asserted myself and offered some information that seemed relevant. I made the first move and in this case they welcomed me. Those women became dear friends. 

Fast forward to our move back to St Paul four years ago when we were in our mid sixties. We have reconnected with friends from the past and strengthened long time relationships, but we have also made a surprising number of new friendships, including our beloved potluck group. 

We are enriching each other's lives at this stage of life. Although we share much in common, such as membership in the same faith community, we don't have the same background or life experiences or interests. What we do each have, however, is a willingness to bring new friends into our lives. 

We bring our open hearts to the table. And the risk is worth it.

An Invitation
Are you willing to open to new friendship? I would love to know. 

Making New Friends: Tuesday's Reflection

Last week we spent a few days on Minnesota's North Shore with new friends who had generously invited us to join them at their timeshare on Lake Superior. We eagerly accepted, but at the same time wondered how it would be to spend more than an evening with them. Would we find enough to talk about? Would we discover major differences among us? Was our friendship too new for this kind of intense interaction? Would we like each other more or less when we said goodbye and returned to our homes?

Well, no problem. Our days together were rich. In fact, we were still chatting and laughing as we loaded our cars for the drive home. What a relief! 

Now instead of describing our friendship as "new," I will introduce these friends as our good friends, our dear friends. I think of them now as friends with whom I can truly share who I am. 

Yes, I know how lucky I am, but feel free to remind me. 

Creating New Friendships So here's something I've been thinking about recently. Since moving back to St Paul after being away for twenty years, we have made so many new friends. Many of these friendships seem to be developing into deep friendships, strong, supportive friendships, which is a true blessing. At the same time a later in life friendship requires some extra work. 

We didn't know each other growing up or going off to college. We weren't at each other's weddings or the baptisms of our children. We didn't share the ups and downs of our career lives or see each other in positions of responsibility. We have not been in each other's earlier homes or met one another's parents. 

We have no history with each other. 

Developing a new friendship at this time of life, the Third Chapter, means filling in some blank spaces. What is it I most want my new friend to know about me? What are the key stories to share? What do we have in common and in what ways have our lives been different? 

What is it we need right now and even, how do I make room in my life for a new friendship? 

A Story From the Past
When we moved to Ohio many years ago, I volunteered at the hospice program where my husband was the medical director. The volunteer coordinator and I were about the same age and didn't live far from each other. I enjoyed chatting with her--normal kinds of conversations about our kids and house projects and books. The kind of everyday conversation someone new to a community hungers to have.

One day I asked if she would ever like to meet for a casual supper, and she seemed pleased to be asked. We set a date. My only expectation was for a pleasant evening, but perhaps I appeared over eager, too needy.

We met at a deli-kind of place where we ordered at the counter and then settled at a table. I asked her about her day, but instead of answering me, she announced without warning, "I just want you to know I don't have room in my life for more friends."

Yes, she really said that. 

Why didn't I pack up my chicken salad sandwich and chocolate chip cookie at that very moment and leave? How did I get through the meal with her? 

Over the years I have wondered about my dinner companion who had enough friends. What was her back story? Was there something happening in her life right then that forced her to pull in the welcome mat? 

I wish I had exhibited a more open and compassionate heart. I wish I had been more present to her. I wonder, all these years later, if she could use a new friend in her life now.

New Friendships
New friendships require curiosity and a willingness to hear one another's story. New friendships require a desire to grow and expand one's circle. New friendships require an open heart. 

Sometimes new friendships require taking a chance.

I am so glad the four of us, our new good and dear friends, were willing to do that, for now in place of some of those blank spaces, we have memories and the beginning of a friendship history. 

An Invitation
Where in your life are there possible new friends? What are you willing to do about that? I would love to know.

Just For Fun: Check out some of my posts from the past. 
One Year Ago: Pesto Marathon 
Two Years Ago: Want to Talk? 

Seeing Friends: Thursday's Reflections

Time with son Geof and Daughter-in-Love Cricket

My husband and I recently returned from a two week road trip to the East Coast and back. 3300 miles in our blue Jeep Liberty. Time for another oil change. 

Mileage is only one way to measure the trip, however. Another way might be to list all the things we saw and did while we were gone or how many photographs we took, but this was not a trip about sightseeing or adventure or checking off items on a bucket list. This was a trip to see people we love, to be in their presence and to get a taste for the life they are each living. 

I admit I am a bit of a reluctant traveler, and it is hard for me to tear myself away from home. I had a good writing rhythm this summer, and while a few days away to refresh and restore, to reboot, seemed like a good idea, I was hesitant to interrupt the flow for very long. I love my days in the garret. I love my loop of life. I love the mix in my life of people and activity, alongside the solitude of writing, reading, and praying time. 

Some people eagerly plan their next trip. We have many in our life who are passionate travelers, and when they are on one exciting trip, they plot the next one. Their calendars fill with travel plans, and they move through the seasons as they move through different countries. When talking with these inveterate travelers I wonder sometimes if I am closed to new opportunities or possibilities or if I am merely dull. Sure, there are places I would like to visit or revisit, like Paris or the English countryside, but for the most part I am content. 

Where I am passionate, however, is remaining connected with the people in my life. And that was the reason for this trip. 

We spent an evening with friends who have recently been touched by a major health challenge and are confronting how this changes their life. We spent time with our son and daughter-in-love who love their life in Cleveland, but are at a stage when they wonder if it is time to explore other work possibilities. We spent time with friends in the Boston area who have moved there from Cleveland to live near a daughter and her family. He was in the early stage of recovery from major shoulder surgery. She had similar surgery only months before. After too long a time to sell their home, they are now beautifully settled in a condo and while there are challenges where they live, they are happy with their decision. 


We spent time with friends who have relocated from Wisconsin to the Chesapeake Bay area in Maryland, also to be near a daughter. He is able to continue working for his same firm, which has an office in Washington DC, but now that the house is happily and radiantly settled and they have slipped right into life in a charming and active small town, she is wondering about her next step. 

As I look back on these separate encounters over good food and wine, I realize how these relationships are part of the sacred text in my life, and how important it is to continue adding chapters and verses to the text. 

In Madison we had a chance to see for ourselves how our friends are doing, given the health scare they have experienced. In Cleveland we were part of a backyard party on our children's block and met people who are important to them, including their adorable goddaughter. In Massachusetts our friends' daughter and her husband invited us for dinner, and we gathered around the table with them and four of their five children. We delighted in the banter, the activity of this busy household, and have a better sense of why our friends made the move from the known to the unknown. Thanks to the House Party atmosphere our gracious hosts in Maryland created, we now have four new friends who were also there visiting. We learned about generosity and hospitality and the gift of enlarging one's circle. 

How wonderful it would be if all the people I love lived right here. If that were the case I wouldn't have to face one of my least favorite tasks--packing. Each gathering over the course of the two weeks, however, was a time to strengthen the bonds of friendship and love. And to give thanks for their presence in our lives. Because we have had this face-to-face time, we have a better awareness of their lives, what is important to them, the joys and the gifts, along with their current challenges and questions. We broke bread with each of these dear ones, and their names are forever written in the sacred book of our lives. 

An Invitation

What is currently being written on the sacred text of your life? I would love to know.   

Holy Encounters, a Post by Nancy L. Agneberg

The last two weeks have been ones filled with Holy Encounters. 

"When you meet anyone, remember it is a holy encounter. As you see him, you will see yourself. As you treat him, you will treat yourself. As you think of him, you will think of yourself. Never forget this, for in him, you will find yourself or lose yourself." A Course in Miracles, p. 132. 

     I have been home from Minnesota for almost  two weeks and in that time have re-connected with many special people in my life. What I thought I most needed was quiet, alone time to read and meditate and write, and I am grateful for those times and clearly, did need chunks of solitude, but what surprised me was my need to spend time with loved ones here. 

    Last night dear friends joined us on our porch for wine and appetizers. We have missed each other these last months because of trips and work and family commitments, but much to our delight we were all free for the evening. We have not entertained much during these never-ending months of having our house on the market, and I have missed doing so. Originally, I planned just to go the wine and cheese and cracker route, keeping things simple just in case there was a last minute showing scheduled, but I changed my mind. I wanted to anticipate the company, the Holy Encounter, by doing something quite unholy on the surface--messing up the kitchen. I got out some cookbooks and recipe files and got busy, almost humming in the process. Greek croustade (phyllo with a spinach and cheese filling, roasted shrimp and cocktail sauce, roasted cashews with rosemary, cayenne, and brown sugar, and hummus with pita crackers. Oh, and to drink, kir (white wine and cassis--very pretty.) The napkins said "THIS HOME RUNS ON LOVE, LAUGHTER AND LOTS OF WINE." The evening would have been just as full of laughter and love without the extra time spent in preparation, but every bit of measuring and chopping and mixing and then washing and drying reminded me of my good fortune of having so many special people in my life. 

"Relationships are meaningful because they are opportunities to expand our hearts and become more deeply loving." A Return to Love by Marianne Williamson, p. 138.

     The Holy Encounters of this last week included a weekend in Chicago with our son and daughter-in-love who live in Cleveland. I rejoiced in the pleasure of this adult relationship, liking them as much as I love them. Two female friends here made time in their week for me, and I thought about how it wasn't really that long ago that I didn't know them, and now they are necessary people in my Madison life, and I miss them when I am not here. Another friend and I hugged hard after a space in our friendship and realized our hearts had maintained crucial room for one another. Out of town friends here for a convention included us in their busy agenda, and we added onto our friendship of over 40 years. Even my much needed haircut felt Holy to me as we updated one another on our lives, and I recalled how I found her without anyone's recommendation when we moved here--just took a chance--and now she is one of my special "peeps." 

     And, of course, time with my husband, for "Partners are meant to have a priestly role in each other's lives. They are meant to help each other access the highest parts within themselves." A Return to Love, p. 127. The best kind of Holy Encounter.

     I returned from Minnesota relieved at my father's healing, but at the same time quite depleted, and these two weeks have been ones in which I have filled with the energy of so many Holy Encounters. There are others here I have not had a chance to connect with, except for continuing to hold them in my heart. Our day will come, as my father always says. But now I prepare to return to Minnesota for two more weeks, weeks that will be filled with a variety of activities, including grandchildren time, sister time, daughter time, father time, and a visit from a dear out of town friend. I return even more aware of the gifts of Holy Encounters. 

     "Relationships exist to hasten our walk to God." A Return to Love, p. 92.

Note: Sometimes a Holy Encounter is rediscovering a favorite and influential book from the past. That's what happened while reading a new book by Richard Rohr. He quoted Marianne Williamson in her book A Return to Love, and I immediately went to my bookshelf and immersed myself in her wisdom.

I would love to know about your experience with Holy Encounters.  I invite your comments. 

Never Just One Thing, a Post by Nancy L. Agneberg

Recently, a friend sent me something from the ongoing archives of our friendship. The first item was a card I had sent her 10 years ago.  On the outside of the card is a picture of four older women sitting on a couch together enjoying a cup of tea. Inside it says, "We'll be friends till we're blue in the hair!" and I had added a question wondering which one of these women was my friend and which one was me. Once again I chuckled at the sweet image and sentiments and also felt intense gratitude for this particular friendship and for all the women in my life. My friend, by the way, says we are the gals in the middle! 
     My friend had also enclosed more sobering items from the friendship archives--copies of emails we exchanged the summer of 2002. That summer I was diagnosed with uterine cancer and far worse, my mother learned her colon cancer, which had been in remission for three years, had now spread. The outlook was not good. In addition, our daughter was pregnant with their first child, and our son was in the beginning days of a relationship with the woman who is now our daughter-in-law. To add to the mix I was preparing a series of lectures and discussions for a weeklong retreat several states away for a large organization of Episcopalian women; something that had been in the works for nearly a year. This is merely a brief outline of all that was going on during those summer days. 
      My emails suggest I was having a hard time dealing with the mix of situations. "One at a time, please," I shouted to the Universe. I have always been someone who moves methodically from task to task, completing one before moving to the next. I am not a good multi-tasker. One of the hardest learnings for me when I owned my own public relations firm and when I worked in the public relations department at Luther Seminary was how to stop in the middle of something, switch gears abruptly, and move directly to whatever had just come up. You would have thought that being a mother was good practice for that, but I had not come by that ability naturally and was constantly re-learning it out of necessity. 
     Obviously, in life it is never just one thing. There is always more than one thing that demands and requires our attention and energy. I was reminded yesterday of that fact when a friend told me about serious health situations she and her husband are confronting at the same time and oh, there is an aging parent in the equation, too. We don't have to look far to realize that we are all asked to respond to more than one need at a time. Having a job and being  a spouse, a parent, a daughter or son, and a friend are all ongoing challenges and gifts and can't be compartmentalized, at least not very easily. 
     Yes, there are times when the focus has to be on one aspect of your life--healing following surgery or sitting vigil with a dying parent--but most of the time we have to deal with more than one thing at a time. 
     So how do we do that?  
     We become still.
     We breathe.
     Breathing and getting still takes no special amount of time or any specific place. It requires no permission or announcement, and we don't need classes in order to learn how to do it. Nobody needs to know that we in that moment have gotten still and are breathing.  
     How do we prepare for those times in our life, those normal, everyday, this is life times? We prepare by practicing now. Right now. Breathe. Get still.
     I certainly hope I acquire these skills before I have blue hair, but at least I am practicing.  

NOTE: The card is a Donna Day/Tony Stone image from Portal Publications.