CELEBRATE!
Happy 2010! What a challenging decade we’ve just been through. As a friend wrote, “Happiness is the 00s in the rear-view mirror.” So, welcome to the shiny new-and-improved decade.
[Do you say two-thousand-&-ten or twenty-ten? I say twenty-ten because I used to say nineteen-eighty, etc., but I think I'm in the minority. If you vote strongly for either one, drop me a note at roz@coachroz.com and tell me your rationale. I'm open, either way.]
Why am I late in sending this New Year’s greeting? No excuse. Just lazing through the holidays and waiting for inspiration. It came this week in the form of an obituary about a woman I never heard of but would like to hold as a role model for living life out loud. I’m changing only her name.
“On January 4, 2010, at the age of 65, (Dottie Jackson Morrow) passed away. One who did not know Dottie might say she was laid to rest, but such a person would be wrong. Dottie did not rest in her earthly life, and there is no reason to believe that she has started now. … Rarely was Dottie not in the presence of friends, all of whom she considered family. She would meet random people in unlikely places, and she would nurture relationships that would last. If she liked you, she loved you, and she treated all her friends as best friends. … Dottie embraced life with a passion unattainable by most, and she did more living in her 65 years than most could do in 100.”
There was also a sentence about how she met and married her soul mate, but that’s not essential for living with gusto — it’s just a gorgeous added-value.
I was particularly intrigued that she would “meet people in unlikely places” and nurture relationships that would last. That is a delightful adventure, and it was very affirming to have it validated. At one of my birthday parties, friend David said, “Roz was with Robert at a concert, and she leaned over at intermission and said, ‘What’s a good-looking guy like you doing here alone?’ — and that’s how she picked me up. Is there anybody else here that Roz picked up?” And lots of hands went up. I was both embarrassed and tickled. I hadn’t realized how often I do that, just strike up a conversation with a stranger who can become a friend.
Think about it. How else, really, do we make friends? I mean, they are all strangers when we first meet, so unless a mutual friend introduces us, it’s kind of up to us to start the connection. What’s to lose? They weren’t our friend before we met, and worse-case scenario, they won’t be afterward. Of course, I’m assuming safe environment and prudent behavior.
Here’s what “Dottie’s” obit reminded me of. Decades ago, when I was in corporate America instead of a counseling practice, I would become close friends with another employee. We might lunch together a couple of times a week, maybe see a movie, certainly support each other when we were sure we could run the company better than its leaders. (Lord, I was SO young.) When one of us moved on, we swore we’d continue to see each other often, but we didn’t. And now I can’t even remember their names.
For years I’ve considered that a natural occurrence, that the trajectories of our lives just parted — but maybe if I’d nurtured those friendships the way Dottie did, I’d be richer in friendships than I am.
So in addition to the ritual I’m-gonna-lose-20-pounds resolution, this year I intend to stay better in touch with friends I seldom see but dearly treasure. I thank “Dottie” for reminding me, even from beyond her life, how sweet such relationships are.
Meantime, I can revel in the memory that I introduced David to one of my best girlfriends, and they’ve just celebrated their 26th anniversary. I’m so glad I picked him up, and I intend never to set him down. Now I want to get crackin’ on emailing or calling some others I’ve neglected. They are just too precious to let fade away.
Hoping you feel the same … Cheers!
Roz
