I tell her I am too busy.
I cringe as I send the text because I know she’s new and looking to cultivate friendships, connections, to make Lexington home.
And yet, I do not create space for a simple coffee shop meet-up because I am in overwhelm over a job, over heartbreak from dissolving friendships, a rupture in a community that I enthusiastically loved and I don’t know how to remedy the break, so I surrender my reputation to the manipulative wits of so-called friends and I leave to protect my own heart and throw myself into busyness.
Fast forward a few years later, I still feel regret for that text, for not rising up over my hurt to make time to ease her transition, because I now know what it’s like to be new.
I think of her text, her polite and sweet ask, as I sit and sweat in my first Texas summer.
There’s a heated uneasiness that has nothing to do with the blaze. The weekend is here, and for the first time, this social introvert feels panic. The usual emptiness of plans would be a delicious thrill, but I’m spending too much time alone, and I am lonely, and missing friends. I look at happy groups of girlfriends in summer dresses meeting for brunch and yearn for my girlfriends, my listeners, storytellers, mischievous schemers.
I send texts tinged with desperation to the few people I do know, but I’m not brave enough in my reach-outs, and it’s quiet hoping that they’ll read in-between-the-lines and catch my new girl vibe and pull me into their plans.
This doesn’t happen, but what does happen as I quiver in almost tears over my cold brew is a bright and welcoming invitation from a transplant Kentuckian, a warm and genuine yogini befriended during our teacher-training in 2008. Our paths cross again. She knows what is it like to be new, and she includes me. Her radar attunes to me. She intuitively senses my loneliness and invites me out for a show, over for dinner, for a moon-gathering of women. She tags me on facebook when she sees a post about potential yoga and writing opportunities, and recommends me to my current employer.
She sees me in my newness, and makes the effort to get me adjusted, comfortable, connected to the spin of life in Austin, and it’s only when I begin to feel connected that I start to deepen my roots here, because community is everything.
Community is vital to existence, and my Austin tribe of meditating Millennials, kindhearted improv performers, and compassionate change-makers enriches and makes my life in Austin meaningful, purposeful, blooming full of love.
And this Lone Star crew braves a spring cold spell to still celebrate my Austinversary. They cluster around a pink picnic table under twinkle lights, and I watch in awe as separate spheres of my Austin life collide and click as conversations weave in-between spoonful bites of ice cream. At the end of the table, my lovable, all-star Kentuckian-turned-Texan friend chats with a “Golden Girls” loving empath who introduced me to this milkshake magical place.
I squeeze this memory tight, and feel deep waves of gratitude for all these luminous friends present and those afar who initiated, responded, created pockets of time to connect. They are my Texas sun. They are my teachers on how to show up in openness and kindness to people who are new, who are seeking to belong, and we are all seeking to belong, to be seen, and have someone to join us for ice cream.
My friendships are my world. At my core, I revolve around my relationships. I tremendously care about the wellbeing of my relationships, and I love adoring my people! Yes, I do! I love oozing out buttery compliments (because I delight in illuminating your talents, accomplishments, skills and championing on your exquisite light!) and buying birthday gifts and showing up for big events and picking just the right fabulously fun emoji to glisten up a text.
And the text I wish I had sent to my could-have-been Kentucky friend, I send now to new Austinites, to old Lexington souls, too, and am committed to never being so busy that I do not have the time for relationships, because relationships are life. And I do not want to live a life where people are put on the back burner, because the job, the project, and the wounded people who put me down are not worthy of determining and stealing my energy from ushering forward compassion and connection into our starving world.
I choose connection and community, and compassion and courage create the channels for genuine relationships, and in my relative newness, this is a daily practice. And in the practice of showing up for myself and my friends in this Austin ride, I reflect on the lessons, the commitments, the choices in loving up and showing up for tribe.
*Send The Text ::
I am super appreciative of my original Austin acquaintances who met me for brunch, joined me for a stroll, got me a free ticket to a Shitfaced Shakespeare show, and even asked me to babysit their kids. Every invite and gig lessened loneliness and enhanced my feeling of belonging, and knowing Austin a bit better, checking out a restaurant or locating free parking, incredibly helped in my city orientation.
Now, if I find myself thinking of someone, I reach out. I send a text. I facebook friend. I set a specific date to meet up with them. No wishy-washy “let’s someday soon…” because the chances of that day coming around are limited and half-hearted. I pencil my people in and do my best to show up and follow through. This commitment builds trust.
*Follow Up ::
I strive to stay impeccable with my word, and I can feel eyes rolling out there because I am not perfect, but I do intend to follow through and keep true to my agreements. I practice listening to my initial feeling to determining a YES or NO response. A YES feels expansive and exciting. A NO constricts and drains.
And because I’m still rewiring my people-pleasing tendencies, I still overcommit. I am a natural YES person relearning self-care. So there must be the intention to be impeccable and true and then granting space for grace.
Please, it’s nothing personal, it’s my intuition, my introverted energy levels gauging if I can show up in my optimal best in our hangouts and dates, because it’s just an uncomfortable drag when I show up in low energy because that’s forcing and thinking and acting out of obligation, and those actions fall short compared to flowing, feeling and acting out of a spontaneous, pure-hearted desire to show up for another. Sometimes cancelling plans is what I need to do to preserve and replenish, and understanding relationships will allow for the unexpected shifts in life plans. And when I need to cancel, I recommit to another date and trust it’ll happen in good, aligned time.
*Forgive Face-to-Face ::
I’ve weaseled out of uncomfortable in-person conversations with a thoughtful text, and y’all, I did this out of fear. I now know that if I need to vocalize my forgiveness, or clear the air with a person, then it has to be in-person or at least over the phone. And I also realize that not all forgiveness work needs to be told to the former friend, the ex-lover. I forgive to liberate my heart from grievances and grudges and sometimes this is enough to cleanse the energy between the particular love and me. I also refrain from “likes” on social media as a way to communicate “hey, we’re cool now.” If I have had a falling out with someone and even if I have done the inner work to release, I do not then go on a “like” spree on their social media postings, because it’s weird and confusing. And social media is not a replacement for face-to-face interactions. I see social media as another way of loving on my friends, and those are friends who are braving cold weather to get ice cream with me.
*Own the pain points…sit with your shit ::
I had a series of break-ups with friends, one painful one right after another, before I moved to Texas. None of these breakups happened because of an actual argument, and I wish I had argued with them, aired out our perceptions and pain. This would have been so much healthier than the passive aggressiveness and cold-shouldering that signaled the ultimate fallout.
The demise of these friendships catalyzed me to seriously contemplate how I show up in friendships and the expectations and assumptions that clouded my healthy discernment of my friendships.
Jealousy, cattiness, passive aggressiveness communicates low self-esteem, and I understand the behavior and where it’s coming from, but I no longer tolerate it.
I had one “friend” who had been particularly vicious and undermining, and yes, this person was going through struggle, and yes, I have compassion, and her behavior was inappropriate, damaging, and rude, and exhibited the height of her pain. She became incredibly kinder when she learned that I was moving, and after telling my therapist, my therapist rolled her eyes and said,
“Well, that’s messed up.”
Yes, that is messed up. And it seems like relationships can easily get messy because the relationship we have with ourselves can be messy.
My relationships are only as good as the one I have with myself.
I work on owning my shit because it’s the only way I can be centered and loving in my relationships.
I meditate, I journal, I talk with healers and therapists, I pray, and an appearance of jealousy, or irritation with a friend I sit with. I shift through the reaction, the pain point and see what is mine, what is illusionary, and what, if anything, needs to be communicated to the friend, or actively changed in the relationship.
Feelings again serve me here, too.
How do I feel with and after I hang out with this person? Does this person really want me to do well? Do they really celebrate when I celebrate and feel the struggles along with me? Do I hesitate before telling them about a success or do I feel safe sharing a deep disappointment?
And if the feeling is pure and present, then I look at how the feeling is expressed in action. Do they show up for me? Do I show up for them? How does it feel when I show up for them and when they show up for me?
The answer, I hope, is LIGHT.
When I look at my current tribe, I see courageous people who look inward and are actively present with themselves in their journey.
GORGEOUS to witness and incredibly inspiring!
They sit with their shit.
They meditate, they go to therapy, they are immersed in their creativity, which introspects and reflects and recharges, they have a connection to a faith that comforts, clarifies, and serves their growth, healing, evolution, and therefore, I am not their therapist and I am not their punching bag. I am their friend, their listener, of course, adventurer, and lighthearted cappuccino and brunch date. This is the only way I vibe and roll.
*LOVE ::
I ripple words of encouragement into conversations with my tribe, because affirmations, praises, spotlights of their talents glows as a love language of mine, and this typically happens in quality one-on-one time, because I want to be absolutely present with you. I relish strolling through bookstores and musing on journals and poetry to shower onto friends, because gift-giving is part of my love repertoire, too.
I’m clear on the love languages I am naturally fluent in, and then am learning to open to and receive the diverse and dynamic ways people express and demonstrate affection, appreciation, tenderness.
My kitchen savvy and generous roommate saves me a plate of homemade mashed potatoes and chicken and makes me fresh kale juice on a weekly basis. My Sagittarius soul-star friend drives and picks me up no matter what time of day or night. My magical mentor actively supports the words I craft and post.
All of this circles back to love, and how we give and we receive, and brightening our perspective to acknowledge and see the soft and subtle, loud and vivacious, beautiful and brave ways genuine care fills the air we breathe.
So breathe in deeply and breathe out sweetly and completely, and be as you are, and befriend the you you are here, and then stay open to trusting feeling to navigate the network of building and enhancing a tribe who will laugh and cry with you. Because that’s what you are worthy of. Nothing less, always more, and more love.