Listen to the blog:
Have you ever been sitting with a friend and the conversation turned to an “in the moment” interaction? Not just recounting what happened last week, but actually being in the scene together, right now, emotions and all? I have, but too few and far between.
The other day I was talking to a friend and sharing about actually some good things. Planning the future, but with a few obstacles in between. The person had the active listening down.
“I am trying to plan out the next few years. I don’t feel like I am winding down my career and life, but I am certainly wanting them to be so purposeful,” I started explaining. “And there is still so much I want to do.” I know this feels pretty benign at this point. But then the friend reflected back, “You are wanting these years to be intentional. You always have wanted to make an impact. You have so much going on in the day to day still, both personally and at work. It is wonderful that you can still see the forest through the trees.”
I immediately started tearing up. I shifted to “in the moment” processing of where I am. It is true, I want so much to not waste a single day.
“Sorry, I don’t know why I am getting emotional. I am not saying everything needs to be deep or perfect. I just want to be present in my days. It is past time to always be in the one-day mode.”
It felt like a confession. Why am I telling them all of this? What did they say, or not say, that made me want to share so openly? These thoughts were twirling in my mind.
“Thanks for listening to me,” I said. “I love that you don’t ever feel the need to actually fix anything. You can just hear me out.”
“Actually, I feel bad. You always help me and have great advice. Sometimes I wish I could help you the same way. But this isn’t necessarily one of those times. I’ve known you a long time. You are making such an impact with your work and relationships. I actually love hearing what is going on in your heart for a change.”
I take a breath. I’m the counselor. And if I’m honest, taking the vulnerable stuff to God first is sometimes less about faith and more about staying safer with people than I’d like to admit.
“It’s funny,” I respond. “I don’t consider myself a private person, but I do realize I am normally sharing after the fact. After I have processed. This is nice for a change — to just be in the moment and process out loud.”
“Well, I appreciate you so much. I am glad to be here for you for a change. Plus, there is the added bonus … I need to hear that you have human emotions too. It makes me feel better about myself!”
I laugh. “Oh, okay, great. I’ll make sure to share all of the drama in my daily life so you can feel better about yours.”
We were both laughing now.
Tears or laughter, sharing them in the moment with a friend creates connection. It gives life meaning.
Usually, it is only God that I have this kind of connection with. That is healthy in many ways. But He created me to need others. I guess that is why truly opening up and being fully present in the moment with my emotions was so cathartic.
We continued to chat a bit. When we were parting ways, my friend hugged me and said, “I truly appreciate you.”
“Same,” I said, leaning into the hug.
“Thanks for today.”
It is strange that I can lean in so easily to loving others, but not so much to being loved. Yet, when I take the risk, the reward is great.
Driving home, I couldn’t shake the conversation. Why do I always hold back? I truly appreciated this time with my friend. Regardless of a solution, it was real connection. Nothing is better than that, right?
To me, this is a start.
