Reconnection

“Oh, the weather outside is frightful
But the fire is so delightful
Since we’ve no place to go
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow….”

As I type this post, the first snow of the season falls gently outside my window. Winter has arrived, and with that, a time for inward reflection and rest.

Reflection

Each year, I enjoy writing my final post for the year as it affords me the opportunity to reflect on events which have impacted me deeply. Writing to an audience which ranges from members of my inner circle to far-flung acquaintances also allows me to speak candidly but without elaborate explanation. As the kids say, if you know, you know.

It’s said the loss of a friend can hurt as much or even worse than the loss of a romantic partner. This year I lost three friends whose friendship I dearly cherished.

In the case of friend #1 and friend #2 I was cut off, but in the case of friend #3, I chose to leave. As different as each friendship was from the other, the lessons I learned from the loss of each friend can be applied universally.

First, I learned it’s ok to be wrong. That’s not what makes or breaks a friendship (or any relationship for that matter). What defines the ability of a relationship to survive is not the absence of conflict, but the ability to repair. Without successful repair, that is, a layer above an apology, there can be no way forward, and more importantly, there can be no healing. True repair allows for an acknowledgement of something deeper – of the pain which was brought to the surface because of another’s words or actions. It’s deep-rooted pain born years before the triggering event and often accompanied with feelings of betrayal and grief. Acknowledgement of that pain, – a simple “I see you”- before any apology, and especially before any self-defense (“I only said…I only meant…”) can melt the smallest of differences and prevent the most catastrophic of responses.

Easier said than done though, eh? Some relationships, including friendships, just don’t survive. And so, begrudgingly, I learned my second lesson: it’s ok to outgrow friendships. I do not say this lightly. My heart still aches for the rituals I shared with my friends, from sending the newest song I heard on Spotify to friend #1, to dreaming of our next reunion in London or DC with friend #2 to texting good morning texts to friend #3 – inevitably, it’s the intimacy of past and future moments, now dissolved, which I miss the most. Would I repair if given the chance? Yes, in a heartbeat. Would our new friendship be built with new boundaries? Also yes.

Rest

In the past few weeks, I’ve noticed a surge of activity. From busier malls to multiple requests for overbooking my clinic schedule, an urgency in all matters permeates the daily narrative during holiday season. Frankly, this doesn’t bother me too much, and I’ll even admit I thrive on the need to be extra from time to time (see Thanksgiving table below).

I wonder, though, if it is time to rest. There is a quietening in nature in the wintertime; trees cease to bloom and animals retire to a place of hibernation. Shouldn’t we, humans, also take the time for nonjudgmental rest?

What does rest look like for me? It means less time scrolling. Less time ruminating. Less time planning. Less time assuming.

It means a more present spirit.

I wish for mindfulness with each meal. I wish for slow evenings with a book. I wish for deep conversations with a partner. I wish for more chai time with my parents. I wish for more movie nights with the siblings. I wish for more coffee dates with friends.

In essence, I wish for disconnection to make space for a return of connection, with myself, my family, and those who stayed.

Thank you, as always, for following me wherever you may be. May the new year bring you much joy, love, and community.

With all my love,

izh