Life of Wry

The moms of two of my closest and best friends from growing up commented on my last blog post.  Sally’s mom and Katy’s mom.  I’ve recently reconnected with both of them through social media.  How incredibly sweet and blessed.  Nothing says village more than that: to pick up a conversation that might have begun nearly 50 years ago with the moms of your friends growing up… moms in whose homes you spent incredible amounts of time, who knew you at 6 and 11 and 18, through Brownies, sleepovers, go go boots & fishnets, pimples, track meets, college applications, and a few other turns in the road too painful to imagine.

There they are, making comments, sharing their thoughts, validating my own.

I was feeling pretty exposed after posting the Dismantling Christmas essay.  I didn’t feel (too) badly about dissing the holidays, but I did feel chagrined that I am somehow allowing myself to be tripped up by them, that I’m just not taking control.  Figure it out, I thought to myself, move on; it’s not that hard. Felt very self-critical.  Wanting to be more evolved.. definitely not wanting to be a person at some boringly rudimentary rung of some I don’t know what ladder.  Maybe the ladder of “help I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”  Ye gods.  And while I don’t worry (too) much about others’ judgment, I did feel kind of out there, and not in a good way.

On the other hand, as I say to students in social media classes: social media is a new way to communicate; it’s raw and open, very transparent and best when it’s authentic and honest.  We’re just people.  So, I am a little surprised by my own reaction.

But then along come the moms and aunts, grandmas and friends–especially those moms of my oldest and best friends–willing to listen and talk about it, and offer their wisdom….and I guess it’s alright.

Also pretty cool.

[By the way, the photo is shot this morning at Putah Creek on a walk with Vicki .. very foggy and wet (note drips on branches).]