Tuesday, October 9, 2012
i've sat in this same circle for over 20 years. me with them. them with me. and the perfect mixed cocktail (well, the cocktail didn't happen until we were of age, of course. of course!) of laughter and tears, a little sweet and slightly sour. we sit, painting toenails, flipping through tabloids, and there in the circle- pouring open our hearts, prying into hearts, and praying over hearts. we sit fixing our eyes to see and hands to receive each other with caution, with care. because even when you feel safe, finding words to express your insides can feel like silly string, stuff flying everywhere without restraint. when you finally stop, and someone asks how you are really doing, it is hard to know where to start. we start with stammering voices, and heavy exhales. we fidget and fight back tears. because when we stop, we wonder if what we have to say actually weighs worthy. and we stumble around words, struggling to find the right ones that reflect the truth of our souls. i hear them. the fog, the roller coaster, the anxiety, the gifts, the surrender, the freedom, the sadness. i hear them. the way i did when we were kids at camp sitting in a circle, laying in each others sleeping bags, trying on each others clothes, talking about boys, and laughing about all sorts of silliness. so much has changed, but that circle hasn't. we've always sat surrounded, heads resting on shoulders, arms stretched rounded on backs, hands holding hands, and hearts circled one around the next.