pull up a chair. no, really.
by bam
in a life where just about every hour feels claimed, where any which one belongs to work, or washing machine, or endless runs to the grocery store, i always seem to be lacking in one serious department: taking time to sit and be with friends.
not dashing off an email in the middle of the night. not calling while walking on the treadmill. not sitting side-by-side at work. but actually, intentionally, gathering for pure purpose of catching up, checking in, putting finger to pulse of a heart that i love, a heart i don’t know as deeply as i wish i did, or both of the above.
and so it was that this morning was carved out. held by scribbles of ink on the calendar, anchored there more than a month ago, after a few rounds of emails eventually ruled it claimed and untouchable.
nothing–not a tummy ache of a child, not a deadline, not leaves that beg to be raked in the yard–nothing was going to hijack this morning. so help us, lord.
and sure enough, no hijacking occurred. one lugged a baby. one lugged a heavy heart. one shoved aside an annual trip to the midwife. i brewed up the coffee.
and so we sat. for hours and hours. no one minded the clock slipping into double digits, and then back into singletons, when the noon hour came and went.
how rare, and how perfect, to sit, hands cupped around still-warm mugs. plates stacked high with clementine peels and crumbs from pumpkin loaf.
how rare, how perfect, to watch stories unspool, to follow one thread into another. to sit back and watch, the criss-crossing of this thread over to that one. to peel back the layers of who we are and the lives we have lived.
to relish the mere fact that this morning had brought us together. that in this small town, four such drawn-together hearts, could actually draw together.
it’s one of the pitfalls of packing too much into our daily to-do’s: it’s friendship, too often, that falls by the wayside.
not that the love’s not there. not that the yearning is gone.
just that, in a tall order of living, we too often forget to refuel on the very thing that stirs all our hearts: the simple sacred time for connection, re-connection, building layer upon layer of holy criss-cross connection.
clearly it’s something i long for. it’s at the heart of this old kitchen table. the one where words on a screen too often suffice for the real thing.
so, rare that it was and it is, this morning the knock at the door came over and over, and each time, i uttered the words that have opened so many hearts: here, pull up a chair.
do you take time to pull up real chairs in your life? do you carve out hours for sacred connection? or do you, too, skimp on what might be the most essential of all? tending to friendships that matter….
and now, late for my mad-dashing rounds of errands, i need to lope out the door….
pull up a chair 
It’s my most favorite thing to do. I try to do it often, but of course, never often enough. So glad you had such a heartwarming time. Xo
Oh, Barbara, I know the feeling. I cannot manage to visit a friend across the street for weeks after the invitation is extended, or take time (and it’s usually a vacation day) for an afternoonwith an extra-special friend who lives a mere three miles away–a 10-minute zigzag up Ridge–for two or three years at a stretch. We all know something is wrong, but with too many demands…. Last Saturday I did connect with a friend who goes back to first grade with me–one of only a few people who remembers and was involved in my only-child childhood–and we took an herbal workshop downtown, then splurged on coffees at Starbucks, fed birdseed to some pigeons (shh! don’t tell!) and wrapped up the afternoon at Macy’s (and we agreed to call it Field’s) to look at the Christmas displays. And, unusual for me, I never fidgeted once about time. It was amazing! I felt like a different person. And I felt like I had the rest of the day under control enough to take five or six hours to spend leisurely with this friend who is like a sister to me. I’m still trying to figure out how I managed that so I can do it more often.
I just stumbled over here from I’m not sure where and fell headlong into your words and pictures. So beautiful. I’d love for you to add a link to this post for {inhabit}…it speaks so aptly of the art and gift of being fully present. Such a treat meeting you. I’ll definitely be back often.
Monthly, my girlfriends and I meet for dinner. Sometimes we all make it. Sometimes only half of us. But knowing, on the hard days, the sad days, the hectic days, that soon I will be able to unwind with the people who really understand me, makes things a lot easier. The one thing we really understand is that we are no good to others if we are not good to ourselves, and we make the time to do that for each other! Just another thing to be grateful about this season!
I need my girlfriends, couldn’t live without them. I met with a new friend last week for a leisurely lunch … it was pure heaven. I had a thousand things on my list to accomplish, but the most important thing I had to do that day was sit across from the table and get to know this woman. I did me a world of good. bam … what I wouldn’t give to pull up a chair at that old maple table of yours.