Yesterday I
lost a friend without warning. I had not seen her for a while. She was a person
whom, twenty-seven years ago, helped me adjust to the situation of living in a
foreign land without a stitch of knowing the language or cultural heritage. The
age of my mother, her advice was caring and practical. Her tips to contact with
my English roots here (through expat organizations or the Anglican church) kept
me over the years sane. When she came with her family to eat by us, or her
youngest son jobbed in the summer in our restaurant, our paths crossed always
with a warm hug and loads of catching up. Over the last years I would see her
at my gym in the morning aerobic class full of an energy and vitality honestly
I believe only a Kiwi (New Zealander) can have. An optimism that continuously
bubbled up over the surface, seeping out to bring warmth to whom ever was in
its vicinity. I always felt she stood fully in life with her feet on the
ground, moving in a dance all of her own and you were drawn in to wanting to
move with her.
My friend just
died instantly while out walking. We are all in shock; each has differing
reasons why. Some are self-based, as in wishing we had talked once more or
taken up the invitation to “drop around for a cup of tea”. Others cannot believe how honestly “out
of the blue” you can go when your time is up. Mine were instantly mingled with
a gratitude she did not suffer or have a drawn out illness. It would not have
suited her style. Then I, like now as I write, could only see her smile as she
caught my eye across a room and like a magnate, I was pulled towards her to
have a hug. I have spent yesterday and today thinking over various situations
when we have seen one another, including as her son brought his family by last
year from New Zealand to visit us, and I always come back to the one thing that
made her for me special – she lived life with her arms open. Open to helping
you. Open to gathering the flowers of life and breathe in deeply their
fragrance. Open to hold you in comfort. Open to hold up what needed to be held
until it could stand on its own. Open to being loved.
Last night my
best friend was by me to visit and have what I call a good old chinwag! Lots of
talk about ourselves in relationship to our desires, needs and worries. Sharing
our feelings and asking for support from one another, to then be able to gain
an understanding upon how we are seeing a certain situation. Knowing someone is
there to protect your back and give you the ok so you can keep moving forwards. I
sat with her with such a love in my heart for this woman who has been part of
my life now for twenty-six years. Sharing in all the twists and turns I have
experienced. Keeping her arms open for me to be comforted, share a supportive
hug or be embraced with joy at what I have just lived.
Our friends and
friendships have differing roles in our lives. Some are here for a short time
to help us through an event or bring us towards gaining another view on a
situation at hand. Then they leave.
Some remain steadfast and solid but only are in the background of our
daily living, due to separation through the boundaries of different countries. Yet
when we reconnect it is as if nothing has separated the bond between us. Some
are short and sweet then crumble leaving us with a mess to contemplate over.
Some friends are more termed acquaintances as they depth to which we invest our
personal self remains based only on a business or cordial term. Each has its
own schema and scheme in the plan of things. Each has its purpose and part in
our dance of life even if at times we do not realize it.
Then there is
also the lending of a friendship to a stranger in the form of support, (i.e.
business, teaching, caring) which at the time perhaps you do not even realise
how important it was. If you are lucky enough the universe will give you the
chance to see this at a later date. I was blessed on Saturday morning by such a
moment and in reflection I realize it was also the time in which my friend
died. Reaching out to take some cheddar cheese off the supermarket shelf, a
woman stepped in front of me and smiled. I looked towards her and felt as if I
could know her. She smiled even larger and I remembered three years ago
teaching her privately Qigong Yangsheng for several weeks. She had put on
weight, grown her hair and looked so much softer in her face; it could almost
have been a different person. She had come to me to learn how to gain a sturdy
foothold on her pathway, which had been ripped up and torn apart, leaving her
worn down from struggling over all the obstacles that were in her way.
When you teach
someone there is a strong relationship that develops, which has the bond of a
friendship. It is intensified when it is on a one to one basis and especially
if the material being taught works on a mind, body and soul level. You are
entrusted with a person’s inner world and asked if you can show them a tool to
regain a balance, a direction or sense of purpose. In this lady’s situation it
was a reason to keep going. We exchanged greetings and then she blurted out how
she thinks often on how without having had my help, she would have gone into a
dark place under the earth that threatened to cover her at the time and stopped
breathing. I was her life jacket at the time she was drowning. She continued to
tell me why and how a postcard of some snowbells with a poem I wrote about
letting new growth come up with a lightness from the frozen winter ground,
still is attached to her bathroom mirror. I was at this point suddenly very
teary. I myself needed so very much this morning to hear some loving strokes of
appreciation and here I was being dosed in it.
I asked if I
could embrace her to share my thanks and wrapt her up in a warm hug of shared
love for what we had each given the other. I opened my arms to accepting thanks.
I opened my arms for another’s gratitude. I opened my arms for moments shared
and appreciated. I opened my arms to love in all its forms.
In all times in
life we have the choice when it goes on saying hello or goodbye; receiving or
giving to keep our arms crossed; keeping everything out and bitterness held
within. Crossing your arms over yourself keeps the boundaries ridged and nothing
can get in. Or we can move through the rhythms of life with opening your arms at
any time, which allows you to be ready to accept all the “flowers” you can hold.
To get to experience the depth of the greatest attribute we humans can live,
give and use – love.
Open your arms
to yourself. Open your arms to friendship and sharing in all its forms. Open
your arms to life.
Your
Koruswhispers
