I was just going to write about the women in my life, and how we relate as opposed to what it seems that men tend to do, and I realized it's my mother's birthday. Oddly enough my mother was not one for relating. She chose instead to remain isolated - and whether she did that by numbing herself with alcohol, or deciding she couldn't allow herself to need anyone, she never developed the capacity to relate. I'm grateful not everything is inherited.
I spent most of my day with my friend Christiane at her atelier. I'm trying those lampions again - remember them?! She remarked on our friendship while we had lunch together, said she so appreciated how her and I could pick up from where we left off regardless of the time between contact. We relate to each other, and we relate at a deep and meaningful level. And it doesn't matter what we talk about - whether it's about our kids, or the state of my couple, or the state of hers... we relate, we support, we love, and we laugh.
Isn't that just awesome?