soul food

for me the greatest refreshing is communion. communion of soul. looking into someone else's eyes and speaking the language of the soul, being unafraid, standing unadorned, and having someone looking back, unafraid and unadorned. willing to vulnerable. the conversation can drop off at any point, because it will always be picked up at a later date. not necessarily tomorrow, but the next time we talk.

i was explaning this phenomenon to a new friend, my best friends and i can not speak for years, and pick up where we leave off. that is why we're best friends. we meet the husbands, children, friends who have come along in the interim. and catch up on the major events, but then, soul talk. soul food. nourishing each other with communion.

i guess that is a prerequisite for bestfriendship if i was to have one. being willing and able to be vulnerable. who needs an armored saint for a best friend (ha, that image makes me laugh. half armadillo, half heavy metal band member). but really, i don't need teflon friends. i don't want teflon friends.

so i was telling my new friend that one of my best friends is coming to visit.

ah, a tree is coming to visit,

yes,

i said.

she is a tree in my life. a mighty oak. and i need her now. i need her shade. to recline against the sturdy towering comfort that our friendship has been to me through the years.

she said to me recently,

you know suz, i haven't always liked the things you've done. but you can't say i have been unaccepting. i'm always going to give you my opinion and take it for what it's worth. but i will always accept you.

yes.

i said. very little need be said at that point. that is why she is an oak to me. that is why i shelter the storms under her boughs. she speaks and i listen. i have to consider what she says even if she says what i don't want to hear. i would be greatly discomforted if those around me rang out in a chorus of affirmation. i don't need friends like that. those people are not my best friends, those who can only speak affirmation.

but also i don't need a hive of stinging bees, who only buzz about my head in disapproval. i need those, tall enough, wise enough, grounded enough, to be who they are. to fragrance my life with their scent. to shelter me, and receive shelter from me, though it may be, must be unconventional.

i'm not sure what kind of tree i would be. most likely a weeping willow. dancing in the breezes, draging my long members as a veil to create a place of safety and solitude.

i want to be, and i hope i am a tree in other's lives. to shelter and bless. and when the time comes, to be chopped down for the fire that must keep one warm.

a tree is coming to visit. and i could not be more grateful for her timing.