Category Archives: inspiration

Thank You for Being a Friend

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There may have been times in my life where I’ve wished for more friends, but surveying the landscape of the years, I’ve been pleasantly surprised at the growing richness of friendship around me. These friendships are both comforting and surprising. As a lifelong introvert and a bit of a loner, it’s taken me a while to find my footing with my friends. 

I’m surprised, perhaps, because sometimes I’ve taken friendships for granted or maybe even realized that I may not always have been the best friend. I have forgotten birthdays, or let too much time go between phone calls, or even missed responding to texts. My well-crafted reply to an email or text often gets lost in my head. This does not reflect my affections. When I think of my friends, I smile internally recalling ways that I’ve met people, our histories and ways we’ve time we spent together, even if it was a long time ago. 

When I was young, I had visions of popularity, thinking that popular people had the most friends, and who doesn’t want a lot of friends? I quickly learned that my quiet, introverted nature often set me apart as being shy or just too withdrawn to make easy connections with others. I longed for real connections and conversations, but didn’t know how to get there. 

The author with her daughter and former roommate (and friend of 30+ years).

The insecurity of adolescence has annoyingly stuck with me, although it’s less of an issue now than it used to be. But it is still a force that keeps me in the shadows more than it should. 

In my 50s now, I still want to connect with people and find that I can still get in my own way when I worry about whether someone will like me or when I feel self-conscious. It is all too easy to pull into myself when faced with a group of people I don’t know very well.

When I do make a friend, it usually sticks. I’ve been fortunate to make meaningful connections with people through the years, and despite my occasional inattentiveness, somehow those connections have lasted. Often those friendships unfolded over time and with a shared history; other times my connection was immediate and easy. 

I’ve been lucky to be a part of a writing group that has been going for 20 years, where we’ve grown to know each other in unique and vulnerable ways through our writing voices and so much more. I’ve been equally fortunate to be part of a knitting group that has been meeting for even longer, bonding over knitting, conversation, and laughter. And I’ve made individual connections with people here and there: A friend I used to work with who shares my love of reading and always laughs at my jokes. A former roommate who saw me through some tough times and is the one that still generates loud and frequent laughter in me. Another friend I met at a neighborhood park when our kids were preschoolers. Other friends I’ve made through my daughter.

Writing Besties: Brenda, Ellen, Jill, and Elizabeth

I haven’t always had the time or energy to maintain friendships over the years. One of my sisters has friendships from elementary school, and she regularly sees others from her high school days. I can date my longest friendship to a friend I made in college, when we met in journalism school and quickly connected over books and writing. Blessedly, we are still connected despite being separated by more than a thousand miles and one time zone.  

Developing and maintaining friendships takes time and intention, and it’s something I’ve found harder to do in my middle age years. Marrying in my mid-thirties and then becoming a mother in my early 40s put me out of sync with many of my peers. Early motherhood was often fraught with anxiety, and I found myself wishing for more connection. And then the pressures of working and caring for family made it harder to carve out time for friendship. I can still find myself feeling lonely at times, as my daughter grows more independent and will soon be out of the house. 

I think the answer to that is to lean into the friendships that I have and nurture them a bit more. So, if you are my friend, please forgive me for missing your birthday or not calling more often. Know that you still hold a place in my heart. And expect to hear from me soon. 

Because There’s Not Enough Wine or Chocolate in the World for This

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This has been a tough week for me. Perhaps for you, too. I avoided the inauguration, choosing instead to honor Martin Luther King Jr., truly a man of vision, integrity, and character. Nevertheless, my emotions have been turbulent. What follows is the evolution of my feelings. Feel free to skip to whatever part you need to hear today. 

Frustration 

“Nothing in all the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.”  Martin Luther King, Jr. from Strength to Love

The first blog I wrote this week was about my frustration and dismay that so many Trump supporters reject mainstream media and rely on social media and political podcasts to form their views. In other words, user-generated content—someone else’s opinion. Facts are not expected or required.

I struggled to think about how Trump’s supporters could possibly be influenced. How do verifiable truths become accepted again? Certainly not with factual arguments. But experiences can change minds. I hope that when it becomes clear he can’t deliver on his many outrageous promises, some of his supporters (not all–the diehard believers are beyond our influence) will become disillusioned and their disappointment will erode his power.

• • •

Then I thought, maybe WordSisters readers can’t bear another political conversation right now. So the next blog I wrote turned practical. 

Survival Tactics

“The dawn will come. Disappointment, sorrow, and despair are born at midnight, but morning follows.” Martin Luther King, Jr. from Strength to Love

It’s imperative we not give up. But the bombardment of Trump’s awful decisions and destructive actions is hard to cope with. So I thought about sharing my survival tactics. 

1. Focus on your family and friends. This is the sphere where you can have the biggest impact. Talk often, hang out together, plan meals and outings together. Take care of each other.

2. Consume less news. Skimming headlines is fine. When you have limited power to effect change, being informed in a topline way is plenty. Read, listen, or watch news later in the day. Allow the good parts of your day to happen first. Good stuff dilutes the overwhelm. Avoid the many opinion pieces that speculate (Trump might ___. If Trump’s cabinet does this ____ might be at risk). Save your worry and anger for actual events.

I believe in those coping mechanisms, but sometimes the world is too heavy and we need more.

• • •

Inspiration 

What finally helped me the most was focusing on Martin Luther King, Jr.’s wisdom. He continued believing and fighting for years and years regardless of the many hardships and setbacks he and the other civil rights leaders experienced. We can too.

“Let us rise up tonight with a greater readiness. Let us stand with a greater determination. And let us move on in these powerful days, these days of challenge to make America what it ought to be. We have an opportunity to make America a better nation.” Martin Luther King, Jr., from his speech in Memphis the night before he died.

Wet Feet and Warm Heart

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To people living in the lake-effect snow areas, Tuesday night’s seven and three-quarters inches of white stuff that landed in Door County is insignificant. Except the weather professionals predicted a dusting. Opening the door at six in the morning to send an old, thirteen-inch-tall dog with arthritis in his hind quarters required intervention by an owner still in cotton knit pajamas and slippers.

The flip side of this story is that one of the most intensely awesome sunrises distracted attention from noting the snow depth. Bare tree branches etched black lines against nature’s red, orange, yellow, saffron into beauty that could not be painted, photographed, described. Walking along the back windows of the house behind the small dog, my eyes never slipped below the horizon. 

Sunrise colors seem shorter as the solstice approaches. By the time boots were located and a snow-covered dog rescued, the sky had turned a warm pink then faded into regular daylight. Winter weather arrived surprising me with the gifts of sunrise, snow in the trees, wet pants and bare feet discovering small cold puddles where the furry one shook.

In a time of deep emotions ranging from the continued happy surprises of family to dread of the immediate political future, from satisfaction in completing a complex writing project to sadness about a relative’s illness, it is easy to not notice what is simple and beautiful. Life’s gifts and losses cannot be tabulated. A stranger’s smile might change an icky morning into a better day. 

May your holidays bring calm, happiness, and the beauty of a winter’s day even when your feet are cold or wet.

Graduation 2024

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The School for Adults teachers coaxed me to attend the Honors Program and General Education Diploma (GED) Graduation because I’m a volunteer tutor. I was somewhat reluctant since graduation usually means long speeches, uncomfortable seating, and potential boredom, but I’m glad I showed up. The pride of the students being honored touched me. 

I followed the crowds of American-born and Spanish-speaking students and their families as they streamed in. All were dressed up—women in dresses and heels, men in fashionable clothes. In other families, the women wore special hijabs—dark colors embroidered with gold threads or embellished with gold sparkles along the cuffs. Everyone’s children wore their finery. 

The place looked and sounded like a party—music played, a long table was laden with cupcakes and other sweets, and round tables were covered with pastel tablecloths ready for families to gather after the ceremony. I found a place at the back of the hall next to another tutor, a retired engineer from India who helps students with math.

My role is working one-on-one or with small groups to help adult learners improve their writing and reading comprehension. Some of the students are native English speakers who got off track and didn’t finish their high school degrees. Others are immigrants learning sufficient English so they can attend college or keep up with their children’s schoolwork. Some students have university degrees from their home countries but have to start over here with a GED. When I tutor students, I ask their goals, but I don’t ask why they dropped out of school or what their immigration status is. 

I was pleased one of the GED graduates I know was a featured speaker. She’s in her early 20s and a native speaker, so her language skills are good. She didn’t need much from me–math was her nemesis. For four years she showed up, sitting quietly in the back when class met in person. During COVID, when classes and my tutoring went online, she was in and out of class, but she persisted.

Her speech was plainspoken but so heartfelt. Her pride in earning the GED, a milestone many of us take for granted, showed. Now, with the equivalent of a high school diploma, she plans to work full time to save money for college. 

Another GED graduate I know is a woman from Sudan. Her written and spoken English are very good, she and was so skilled in math that she could have taught the class. I met with her once when she wanted an explanation of a writing assignment. She required a GED so she can pursue her dream of going to medical school. 

A student speaker in his 30s spoke in heavily accented English about leaving Venezuela. He has a family and was established in his career, but political turbulence forced him and his family to leave. He spoke with passion about his gratitude for the opportunity America gave him. Now that he had his GED, he hopes to become an electrician and have his own business one day. 

The majority of the students made level gains, meaning they advanced from basic to intermediate or from intermediate to advanced classes. Level gains merited a ribbon which students wore proudly. Their accomplishments are so hard won. 

I am in awe of these students’ persistence. Their progress is slow. Many start and stop because they’ve changed jobs or don’t have daycare. Most don’t have time to do schoolwork at home. But week after week, year after year, they show up. I wonder how many of us who finished high school by 18, would work as hard to get a GED. The facts of their stories may sound ordinary, but for them, the diploma is life-changing. 

So often I feel discouraged about the state of the world, but seeing the students’ pride and sheer joy in their accomplishments renewed my faith in humanity. 

Home and Away

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College recruiting, corporate management and consulting carried me across much of the United States. Although some of that travel prompted future visits, a suitcase in one hand, briefcase in the other wasn’t the most satisfying way to explore cities and countryside. There are cities I enjoy, mountains worth the travel, lovely ocean sides. Driving across the plains or open lands remind me how different our life experiences are from fellow citizens.

The Midwest continues to be where I am comfortable living my life. Green spaces, cities, the Great Lakes, agriculture, forests blend well. We considered moving during our careers, imagining our lives in desert lands or other river cities, even one Canadian possibility. Except for Canada, I don’t regret passing up those changes.

Something moved me in the childhood lands of Pat Conroy and Flannery O’Connor. The charm of old Savannah and the Lowcountry areas of Georgia and South Carolina felt homey. I wanted to stay for a year, maybe two, and learn about the rhythm of that region’s residents. To walk where azaleas and trees blossomed in March, to witness the loggerhead turtle’s journey, to try Sunday church once more, to celebrate holidays differently.  Biscuits tasted better, seafood fresher, crayfish better than a slab of whitefish. 

Weeks in Maine challenged my Midwest assumptions that farms were farms, days on the shore universal, that New England was an area of wealth and education. Spending weeks in a London flat introduced reality to daydreams of living in a congested metropolitan area. Nearly two weeks in a small Irish community felt nice, but I wanted to go home. This stretch of the south felt like it could be home as if the slower movement of my mature life would be acceptable in a place that has nurtured so many artistic folks.

When the roof needs repair, spring returns to stormy winter, property taxes increase, daydreams happen about a mythical life in a charming setting where all seems lovely. But roofs deteriorate there, summer temps and humidity can be high, history and today’s politics lean away from my values. Best to keep Savannah on my writing retreat list and my home in the Midwest. I’ll be back with a notebook, laptop, and good walking shoes during azalea season.