Sunday, July 22, 2012
When I was young, I always wanted time to speed up -- to get me to the place I had envisioned. Move faster. Now, it's the opposite. I wish time would stand still for awhile -- let me breathe it in; sit on top of the world and observe the entire picture -- not just the scene I'm standing in.
So much of life seems like a rat race -- get where you're going faster, bigger, better, stronger. You work so hard and sometimes forget to stop and appreciate what (and who) is around you.
I spent time with a very dear friend this week who paid me one of the best compliments I've ever received. She said, "I can't tell you how great it is to just be in the same space with you."
How simple. Shared space.
The feeling was mutual. The time dedicated to sharing space with others seems rare...and at times, almost impossible. We discussed growing older and how it's strange to reflect on the people that fall in and out of your circle. They're like ghosts; a movie you think you've seen but can't remember the ending. The friendships that remain -- those that resurface no matter how much times passes -- these are the friendships that are generally more meaningful. They've become more valued. More present. More poignant. Perhaps the application of shared time is just as rare as the intimacy of shared space.