A MORNING SPENT IN THOUGHT . . .

I just finished receiving a heavenly hour-and-a-half-long massage, complete with heated massage bed and hot towels. So therapeutic, so cathartic. I fell utterly and completely asleep, occasionally waking myself up with the sound of my own gentle snoring. After it was done, my masseuse said I had cried in my sleep, and encouraged me to have a gentle and thoughtful day . . . I will try to do so.

***

I am sitting now in a bookstore's cafe, typing away on my sleek little laptop, waiting for Mrs.G and Nan to finish their treatments and join me for lunch. As I sit here looking out the window, smelling the delectably pungent aroma of coffee, observing the entrance and exit and passing by of all manner of local folks, I am also thinking, pondering, considering me, myself, my life. I haven't done this in a while. I used to love doing this -- thinking about my life, the world around me, looking deep into myself and figuring myself out. Being introspective and self-critical has never scared me.

It doesn't scare me now, but it gets harder as time passes. With each success I think I've achieved, with every headway I think I've made in a friendship or relationship, with every moment of increased busy-ness, with each complication of a circumstance, it gets harder and a bit more . . . unpleasant. No one, myself included, wants to think his or her life, his or her friends, his or her job, his or her circumstances, are not perfect. So, my biggest realization this year has been this: the idea that everything can be characterized in terms of being black and white is a farce; most things are grey, and that's fine or it has to be.

That's not to say that some things aren't one or the other, that there is no truth in the world. God is true. Family and friends are true. But everything about them, everything else in the world . . . is grey. In relationships, in friendships, in the law, in education, in the economy, in politics, etc. there is more grey than not. And we just need to work with it, to be willing to do the hard work, the deep thinking, the careful caring and sometimes the intense loving necessary, to parse through it all, in order to determine the course of our lives as much as we can, to love our neighbors as we love ourselves, to look outside ourselves and into our communities, to soften our hearts and enrich our minds, to really give ourselves to those we love, to grow and cultivate friendships as they deserve to be grown and cultivated. It's hard -- it's really hard. But it must be done.

***

Last night and this morning, I had to tell a beloved friend that he hurt my feelings and that I was angry at him. This is a big deal, because I don't like to do this. As much as I disdain other people who behave passive-aggressively, I know that I too am often guilty of such behavior. I'd rather internalize the hurt or the insult or whatever, instead of conscientiously face the person who hurt me. I'd rather take pleasure in stewing and mulling and being angry, then sit around and be more angry that the other person has not yet realized how much he hurt me, than be upfront and honest and bare my soul. I'd rather hold on to the negativity than let it go -- that is my passive-aggressive way of maintaining control over my feelings, over things that cannot be controlled.

But last night was too much, and I had to say something. I probably didn't do the confrontation in the most thoughtful and coherent manner -- no, I know I didn't. My friend apologized, and I only half-heartedly accepted the apology, because instead of just telling him I was angry, I wanted him to KNOW it and feel horrible about how he had hurt me. I went to bed angry and sad.

This morning, he apologized again. And I lashed out at him, still unwilling to let go, only half-willing to forgive. This time, I had to do the apologizing. I had to tell him that I had forgiven him and ask if he would he forgive me now. I haven't yet heard back on that last point . . . I hope he forgives me.

Regardless of the anger and the hurt, it is moments like these that have defined our friendship and strengthened us and our affection for each other. We have stuck by each other through a great deal; we have argued and tiffed and pissed each other off a great deal; we have come through lots of little mini-fires together. And yet, the defining characteristic of US has been to talk, to hash and rehash our issues, to say "I'm sorry" and to forgive, then to laugh together (or at each other, depending on which stubborn personality breaks first), knowing that another obstacle has been knocked down so we can move forward with ease again.

It ain't easy. We don't stop and smell the daisies everyday -- some days we don't even notice the stinkin' daisies are even there. Our brains move too fast for us to be coherent all the time. There's too much going on in our individual lives for us to be able to focus 100% on our friendship, the way we want. But to be able to have a friendship in which complete honesty and no censorship is the rule, where forgiveness is offered and even expected, where a sincere smile erases past sins . . . the hard work is worth it. It's always worth it.