Hold Friends as a Gift

This morning I awaken with thoughts of an old friend who is no longer in contact. I knew her since earliest adulthood, at 18. She knew my birth family and was part of my chosen family.

She walked with me in the shadows and laughed with me in the sun. She knew my deepest canyons and my highest peaks.

Opening the laptop, the morning photo was an aerial view of an apple tree in bloom, with a spectacular feathery shadow spreading out over green fields.

I could not find that photo, just as I cannot find that friend. Sometimes we are meant to diverge here in this life.

So I remember the lessons of being a friend to myself, honoring myself both in the strong tree growing and blooming that I am, and the shadow of fear, not enough, doubt that I also am.

It is a time to not just embrace the power of the tree, growing gracefully year after year, despite all, but also the majesty of the shadow which arises in the brightest sun.

I am grateful for changes, for accidents (although there are none), for dear friends, for all the gifts of grace now and forever.

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