She came upon me in the household cleaning aisle at the grocery store where I was looking for the cleaning vinegar.
I was scanning the bottles and jugs with what was surely a dumbfounded expression of concentration, when I heard her call my name. I know it’s going to sound weird, but I believe my friend came down that aisle at the exact moment that I needed to see her.
Not that I was desperate, or sad or lost or anything. I just mean, sometimes, you see a friend by mere coincidence (or is it?), someone you truly care about, who fills you up with joy just by existing.
Despite all this, you rarely spend time with them. You see their social media posts, so you sort of know what’s going on in their world, but you also know them well enough to read between the lines. You’re connected, but not codependent. Yet you are secure in the knowledge that if you called them, if you were in need, if you reached out, they’d pick you up. They’d help. And vice versa.
Angels are humans that show up in your life spontaneously and bring you joy. They exist. You just thought of yours, didn’t you?
That day, in the grocery store, I was distracted by a list of things to accomplish, and wondering how I was supposed to do it all and still find time for myself in there. It’s a feeling I’ve been carrying for much of the winter season, like a kite stuck in the branches of a tree in a windstorm; high on the adrenaline of over-achieving, grateful for the view, but questioning how I keep getting myself entangled, when what I really want to do is soar without the worry of doing enough, being enough or having enough. I am and I do. Yet, one good, strong wind could set me free or snap my spars. Depends on the wind.
My friend and I embraced and instantly dove into a high-energy deep exchange about the big stuff, like the changes we’re feeling as our children are grown, how our careers don’t seem to define us as they once did, grief in all its complexities, and what detergent really works best on tough odours. Big life stuff.
Kindred spirits, we were deep in a shared compassion that life, well, it’s life. Our circumstances are not the same. It doesn’t matter. No competition, no comparison.
We’re both sorting through this stage of life where the past and present have collided to help us redefine our “next.” It’s exciting. It’s unnerving. It’s lonely until you’re reminded that you aren’t alone in it.
Yes, we were those annoying people who blocked the impatient shoppers who just wanted to get their fabric softener. And I understood their frustration, but this was divine intervention in aisle seven. What better setting could there be for a cleansing conversation than amongst the scents of ocean sensation, forest pines and Hawaiian florals?
This friend was the gentle wind that untangled the strands of my kite’s tail, tugged gently at the string so I could slide free of the branches, and offered an upward gust that set me back to flight, secure in the knowledge that I’m figuring life out just like everyone else. I’m not alone. We aren’t alone.
You’ll be happy to know, I also found the last three jugs of cleaning vinegar. Bonus.
