Friends

I've been thinking. There's a loaded statement, but it's the truth. I've been thinking A LOT. I might start on one thought, but my mind seems to circle back to one thing time and time again.

What does it mean to be a good friend?

Which is closely followed by another thought:  Am I a good friend?

I'd like to just answer yes, but that would be too easy and my mind wouldn't keep circling back to the same thing if I was certain. I might be obsessive and worrying about nothing, but I'm not so sure. So what do I do when I'm not sure and something is nagging at me? I write and post it here for all you lucky souls. Let's start this off by saying these thoughts are mine and not necessarily reflective of what other people think. These are my crazies and I'm letting them out to play for a little while.

So why all the worry about being a good friend? Partially it is the "On This Day" feature on Facebook. Every day I can look back at what was going on in my life on that day in past years. Recently I have been seeing posts about what I assumed at the time was a true, real friendship with someone who turned out to be interested only in herself and her needs and how exactly I could meet those needs. Yeah, she's not a part of my life anymore. I don't wish her ill, but life is too short to have that level of self-centered childishness in it. I'm sure she would tell you how wonderful she is, how kind, how caring...but actions speak louder than words and her actions clearly pointed to the fact that my place in her life was dependent on what I could do for her at any given time. I could rail on about her for a good deal longer, but why? We won't be speaking again and there is nothing to say in any case.

Onward and upward, right?

Those posts have made me ponder if I'm the same. Am I worried only about my needs? Do my friends know I care about them? You get the picture...there's a whole lot of crazy in that space between my ears.

I look around at my life now and it's hard not to see how blessed I am. I am blessed with the best friends anyone could ever ask for. When I moved in mid-September five friends gave their time to help. One of them helped move heavy stuff despite the fact he had an event on Saturday evening. I was in the audience that night and he didn't look any worse for the wear, but still: he didn't have to help and he did. The other four ladies: I'd walk through hell for any of them. They gave up many hours and two days to be sure all our stuff got into the new house. There aren't words...really there are not.

Here's the thing: I would walk through hell for ANY of my friends, but do they know that? Or do I hold myself aloof enough that they aren't sure how I really feel?

Do the friends who invited me to their wedding this summer know how much they mean to me? How about the friend who is my buddy for buddy training and took me under her wing when I was a scared, anxious newbie hiding in the far corner? Or the friend who was my inspiration when I started and has encouraged me and cheered me every step of the way? What about my trainers, all of whom I consider friends, do they know? What about all the people who are supporting, encouraging and went as far as buying t-shirts with "teamkim" on them? Do any of them have any idea just how overwhelmed I am by their kindness and how much I want to squeeze the stuffing out of every one of them?

Reading this as I write it it's a wonder to me that I get any sleep at all. In between being snuggled and kicked by the snoring boxer and the thoughts in my head it's probably no wonder that when it's time for deep relaxation and turning off my mind at Yoga Corr I often find myself in tears.

Words are cheap and I'm not all that good with them. Ask anyone, when I speak I stumble over my words, I speak too fast or lose my train of thought completely. In my professional life I've managed to get myself under control enough to sound somewhat intelligent most of the time. In my personal life I opt for silence much of the time because it's easier than stumbling over my words. I don't have that problem when I write, the words flow and I feel competent. The best part of writing is the ability to edit: I might stumble or write the wrong thing, but I can go back and fix it before the words go out there into the world. Not so easy when I'm talking to someone.

I try to show by my actions that I care and I appreciate my friends. I will clean homes, move, clean up after training, donate money. I'll cheer myself hoarse when the situation presents itself. I will use words, mostly in messages and emails to thank, check in on and try to encourage people I care about.

Am I a good friend? Not all the time, I'm not perfect: that's just fact. I try, but sometimes my efforts fall short. I'm not perfect, but I'm persistent. Hopefully that counts for something.

Thank you so much to everyone who has joined me on this journey and is still along for the ride. I appreciate it.

Thanks for reading!