Friday, July 6, 2012

No Words

Since my last post about being on the verge of a butterfly summer, the words have dried up and I've tucked right back inside my chrysalis.  What's up with that?!  I wish I knew.

But yesterday I went for lunch with a new friend.  Our conversation wasn't awkward or surface-level or banterish; instead, we cut right to the chase and began to ask each other reflective questions, those soul-searching kinds of questions that might get asked between close friends with a long history together.  What's weird is that we didn't mind one another's probing questions; in fact, we seemed to give each other unspoken permission to invade our private lives and our pain--not the kind of new-friend lunch that happens every day.  I don't think either of us wanted to return to work, and we took far longer than the middle-of-a-work-day-lunch should take.

As I'm writing this I realize that lunches like this one/new friendships like this--these are butterfly moments.  Oh, I didn't think about that during lunch or even last night, and when I returned to work the moment disappeared--I felt completely unbutterfly-ish at work or at home later in the day.  Butterfly?  Not yet, not so much.  

My lunch with this beautiful new friend offers me hope--hope that this new season in my life will bring new shades of color, new variety of flowers, old and new get-real friends who know how to cut through all the surface crap and connect easily, effortlessly.

There's one more butterfly moment.  When my new friend and I walked up to the cash register to pay, there was a child's placemat (they provide crayons at each table) taped to the back of the register...

Profound, deep, hours worth of pondering...  I love this child, whoever you are, wherever you are.  Thank you...

Everything works out in the end.  If it hasn't worked out, it's not the end.


  1. I'm so glad to hear from you and that you're writing again, but I know what you mean about going through quiet periods. The great thing is, even if we don't feel like writing, there's always something to *read*.

    Your new friend sounds lovely. What a gift to be able to interact so openly.

    I'm not sure that everything works out in the end--that's a big question mark for me. Still, interesting to ponder the implications. xo

  2. Thank you, Molly's Mom--it's wonderful to hear from you, too. It's good to know that you get the struggle for words and how it hits hard.

    My new friend is a gift; she's walking through intense pain, all the while showing incredible strength, courage, and love. Just like you, Molly's Mom. Just like you.

  3. what a great sentiment that child shared w/ the world!

  4. I love this (the quote and your new found friendship)!! Even when things don't really "work out" and don't end the way I want them too, I can at least try to find some closure in that and attempt to move on to find a new ending. And always better with a new friend!

  5. Glad to hear about your new friend. I wish I had someone like that in my life. With the children, and the job, and the "always about everyone else" thing going on, I've lost track of all my BFFs. I used to find such comfort in talking (and laughing) with someone who really knew me.

    Treasure your time with your new friend and thanks for sharing.

  6. That is for sure a butterfly moment! I hate how work interferes with our butterfly moments. I shared your link and the picture on my FB. Loved it!

  7. Hi DawnGes, just checking in to let you know I'm thinking about you. Hoping you are well. Sending love either way.



  8. I LOVE this post! Thank you for taking a photo of that placemat. It's always a bit awkward for us bloggers, isn't it? Having to iPhone photo everything we see while strangers look at us like we're crazy. I should just wear a sign in public that says "It's for my blog."

    Can't wait to read your next post, no matter when it is.

  9. To Leslie and all who commented here--THANK YOU! I've been discouraged lately, discouraged by low numbers and whether or not one person's blog matters or is worth the time and effort.

    I know, what a pathetic admission, and numbers/readership shouldn't matter in the least. Writing offers therapy, and each of you matters. THANK YOU for taking the time to read and comment. Thank you for reminding me that I need to let go of discouragement and get back to blogging...:)


I love reading your comments--thanks for stopping by and taking the time to write!