A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints
“Time goes by so fast, people go in and out of your life. You must never miss the opportunity to tell these people how much they mean to you.” – Anonymous
Returning from a much-needed vacation from my “real life”, I find myself floating about in a zen-like state. Decluttering the soul, the mind and the body from the daily grind and everyday buildup of emotional grime has a way of not only acting as a sort of “reset” button, but also opens up my internal dialogue even more. There are probably close to a dozen philosophically-charged blog themes competing for attention in the sensory portion of my brain, but I find myself coming back to something that has become even more pronounced after this mini-break: reconnection.
I HOPE that everyone reading this (yes, I’m talking to all five of you) gets to experience the type of reconnection that I seem to grab onto with a sense of regularity. A tentative email or phone call is made, plans are solidified, and you find yourself walking in the door somewhere, scanning the crowd, and pushing down that nervous energy as you locate an old friend you haven’t seen for years. Whether it’s 5, 10, 15 or 20 years makes no difference. When you reconnect with someone who played an important role in your past life, there doesn’t seem to be a lot of middle ground. Occasionally, it’s awkward or stilted. But more often than not, I find myself immersed in easy conversation; anecdotes and obligatory “catch-up” information pushed aside in favor of familiarity and nostalgia. Knowing, with unwavering certainty, that no matter how much time passes between conversations, hugs and shared secrets, that these are your people.
There’s no sadness or regret when you’re dealing with your people. Sure, you promise to stay in touch and be more present in each others’ lives. But you know, instinctively, that the frequency of the conversations and visits doesn’t really matter; it’s more about the ease in which you can simply pick right up where you left off and find that being separated by distance and years of non-communication is an afterthought. All of a sudden your stories become streamlined, thoughts are decluttered. The only details that matter are the ones that automatically get relayed in the retelling of important events, where your head is really at and describing the people that matter to you the most. Spending precious time with your people has a way of directing your focus and enlightening you to what and who really matters in your life. It’s like embarking on a cathartic mini-vacation; taking stock of your shared past, recognizing its impact on your current life and moving forward from it.
I’ve always been very grateful for these relationships; friends and family who knew you during simpler times, before life’s many wrinkles and complications began to take hold. Finding solace in someone who reached out to you with a single act of kindness when your world was in upheaval. It feels like exploring a living, breathing snapshot of your life and who you were when your people entered your life. Lately I’ve been interested in examining how and why certain people enter and exit your life when they do. I’ve said it before; I truly believe that some people simply connect with you when you need them the most – you recognize something in another person that draws you out, pushes you to confront or bring your issues to the forefront, and warms you to change.
These catalysts and ferrymen to the next stage of your life may not always stick around for long, and that’s ok because the simple shared experience – whether it’s for a few hours, a few days or a lucky few years – provides the spark one or both of you desires; but many times, especially when they enter your life during times of great personal change, they become your people. Part of your evolving tribe. Your chosen extended family. Hindsight provides an often revealing and sometimes heartbreaking hard look at who is, or isn’t, a critical or supportive voice during times of personal sea change. As part of my journey, I am hopeful that I can recognize my people as they help me along, and let them know what their small acts or grand gestures mean to me in the present, without having to rely on looking back or making amends.
“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.” – Dr. Seuss
Returning from a much-needed vacation from my “real life”, I find myself floating about in a zen-like state. Decluttering the soul, the mind and the body from the daily grind and everyday buildup of emotional grime has a way of not only acting as a sort of “reset” button, but also opens up my internal dialogue even more. There are probably close to a dozen philosophically-charged blog themes competing for attention in the sensory portion of my brain, but I find myself coming back to something that has become even more pronounced after this mini-break: reconnection.
I HOPE that everyone reading this (yes, I’m talking to all five of you) gets to experience the type of reconnection that I seem to grab onto with a sense of regularity. A tentative email or phone call is made, plans are solidified, and you find yourself walking in the door somewhere, scanning the crowd, and pushing down that nervous energy as you locate an old friend you haven’t seen for years. Whether it’s 5, 10, 15 or 20 years makes no difference. When you reconnect with someone who played an important role in your past life, there doesn’t seem to be a lot of middle ground. Occasionally, it’s awkward or stilted. But more often than not, I find myself immersed in easy conversation; anecdotes and obligatory “catch-up” information pushed aside in favor of familiarity and nostalgia. Knowing, with unwavering certainty, that no matter how much time passes between conversations, hugs and shared secrets, that these are your people.
There’s no sadness or regret when you’re dealing with your people. Sure, you promise to stay in touch and be more present in each others’ lives. But you know, instinctively, that the frequency of the conversations and visits doesn’t really matter; it’s more about the ease in which you can simply pick right up where you left off and find that being separated by distance and years of non-communication is an afterthought. All of a sudden your stories become streamlined, thoughts are decluttered. The only details that matter are the ones that automatically get relayed in the retelling of important events, where your head is really at and describing the people that matter to you the most. Spending precious time with your people has a way of directing your focus and enlightening you to what and who really matters in your life. It’s like embarking on a cathartic mini-vacation; taking stock of your shared past, recognizing its impact on your current life and moving forward from it.
I’ve always been very grateful for these relationships; friends and family who knew you during simpler times, before life’s many wrinkles and complications began to take hold. Finding solace in someone who reached out to you with a single act of kindness when your world was in upheaval. It feels like exploring a living, breathing snapshot of your life and who you were when your people entered your life. Lately I’ve been interested in examining how and why certain people enter and exit your life when they do. I’ve said it before; I truly believe that some people simply connect with you when you need them the most – you recognize something in another person that draws you out, pushes you to confront or bring your issues to the forefront, and warms you to change.
These catalysts and ferrymen to the next stage of your life may not always stick around for long, and that’s ok because the simple shared experience – whether it’s for a few hours, a few days or a lucky few years – provides the spark one or both of you desires; but many times, especially when they enter your life during times of great personal change, they become your people. Part of your evolving tribe. Your chosen extended family. Hindsight provides an often revealing and sometimes heartbreaking hard look at who is, or isn’t, a critical or supportive voice during times of personal sea change. As part of my journey, I am hopeful that I can recognize my people as they help me along, and let them know what their small acts or grand gestures mean to me in the present, without having to rely on looking back or making amends.
“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.” – Dr. Seuss
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