At somewhere around the age of 50 I began to remember my very first friends.

The trees.

For my younger years, many weekends were spent up north at our cabin in the woods. In the front of the cabin was a river, and the backyard was all woods. I could play in the back all by myself but could only go out front if supervised.

Trees were the first to listen to me, without interruption, advice, or judgment.

The first to accept me as I am.

To calm me simply with their presence.

They give the best silent advice, allowing you to figure it out from within.

Looking back I realize they never tried to be anything other than what they were. They remained solid, strong, truthful always.

They didn't try to make me like them or try to be something they were not, just to fit in.

They didn't change themselves when someone new came along, so they could impress.

They didn't say all the right things to make me happy then turn their backs on me when things got rough.

They didn't be nice to my face and say mean things about me when I left.

They never tried to make themselves feel better by making me feel bad, or by judging me, or comparing me to others, or ridiculing me.

They remained loyal even when I strayed. Even when I made mistakes.

They held space for me. That is what true friends do.

We should all be more like trees. Like the kind of friend a tree is.

Loyal

Accepting

Understanding

Faithful

Truthful

Patient

After nearly 50 years I have come back to my tree friends, and I am grateful they have quietly been awaiting my return.

It is as if no time (and all time) has passed since I have spoken to them.

Years of life lessons have made me wiser, and also shown me how little I really understand.

The trees hold many answers. After all they remain rooted in this earth long after we leave it.

We should all strive to be friends like trees.

Dear Friend:

How have you been? It has been so long since I have heard your voice or seen your beautiful face.

I miss you. I haven't forgotten you, or given up hope that someday you will respond to my texts or emails, far from it in fact. I have learned that things will happen in their own time; I now have patience.

I don't send you messages so you feel guilty about not communicating, I send them so you know that I am still here, in case you need a friend. In case you think you are not welcomed back with opened arms because of the way you left.

I am hopeful you will come back to me. And if you never do, I will also be grateful for the little time we had.

Although our friendship was brief, it was deep and meaningful. You came to me at a time in my life where I needed people like you.

When I met you I felt I had known you forever, maybe even in another lifetime. I understood you quickly, and quite surprisingly you seemed to understand me right back. I felt free to be  my curious self, to ask possibly unanswerable questions and to wonder at the answers with you. I never felt the need to prove myself, or to fit in. We just clicked.

From that immediate acceptance of all that I was, and was not, the burden of hoping you would like me was lifted. I simply showed up and you loved me. Your unbiased and unconditional love helped me believe in my goodness again, especially after a period where I felt lost and oh so unworthy.

Maybe that was all our friendship was ever supposed to be, you popping in to redirect me back to my path, but I really hope not.

I miss the moments when we unapologetically laughed and cried together. When our thoughts felt synchronized, as if sometimes we did it as one being. I was never worried that you would judge me or laugh at me no matter how much I dreamed out loud, or changed my mind. I never feared that you would ridicule me for what I believed, instead you helped me understand what you believed and that gave me hope that I would figure it all out in my own way someday.

Dear friend, I treasure those times we had.

My mean voice often wants to asks what I did to push you away? But I won't let it. Because the calm, still voice inside knows that very likely it had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with you.

I am here for you. Waiting in the light as you once waited for me. I cannot understand (or support you through) what you won't share with me, especially not when there is only silence from your end. So the only thing I can do is hold space for you, until you heal. I pray that the time will come when you will emerge from your cocoon, ready to reconnect-- transformed, rejuvenated, peace-filled and free of whatever has weighed heavy on your spirit.

In my waiting time I will smile, filled with the joy of anticipation in thinking of all things that we might do together someday. If it happens, I will be grateful. If it doesn't, I will also be grateful for the brief, yet beautiful time we had together as friends.

Namaste, my dear friend. Namaste.

Do You Frequently Feel Like A Dumping Ground?

Ever cringe when the phone rings and the caller id shows the name of a friend who is prone to talking longer than you care to talk? Or when a coworker traps you in the lunchroom and unloads a list of complaints against another coworker, or a boss? Even a quick lunch with a friend can sometimes lead to the exchange of too much information.

One way to determine if you have experienced a dump is if you feel drained, agitated or stressed after the conversation. Maybe the things shared were too personal, making you feel uncomfortable, or they are negative about someone you know, or maybe you are just sick of hearing the same old, same old over and over again with no change in sight.

If you are wondering what you can you do to make sure you don't continue to be a dumping ground, start by setting some personal boundaries.

A boundary is defined as something that indicates limits.

While you might be willing to listen to a friend talk about their bad day at work, you may not be willing to hear them bash their spouse or partner. Only you can know what your personal limits are, and it is up to you to effectively communicate these boundaries. Chances are your friend doesn’t realize they are making you uncomfortable, especially if they have shared this kind of information with you in the past, and nothing was ever said.

While it may feel a bit uncomfortable to tell them how you are feeling, in the long run everyone will feel better about the situation if you tell the truth. It can’t really be beneficial to your friend to have you answer the call with an attitude, and a predisposition to listen with only one ear, or to rush her off the phone.  And you will not feel good about the friendship if you feel drained after every interaction or conversation with her.

It is up to you to set your personal limits.

Try these simple techniques next time you find yourself in the awkward position of being on the receiving end of a friend or coworker dump.

Redirect. Divert. Change the subject. Whatever you decide to call it, you are taking control of the situation and moving it to safer ground. Find something that you can handle talking to your friend about and settle in to listen.

Limit the time you have. From the very beginning of the call (or meet up) set your time boundary. "I only have 5 minutes before I am leaving the house" in the case of an unexpected phone call, or "I have about 10 minutes before I need to get ready for my next appointment" to the coworker stopping you in the lunchroom. When on a lunch date with a long-winded friend gently remind them before you have to rush off that it is indeed a lunch "hour" and you really need to get back to work on time.

Choose a time that you ARE willing to listen. No one likes to be interrupted when they are under a deadline or in the middle of something, so if you know your friend needs to let off some steam, choose a time that works for you. Set aside some time on the weekend, or a weeknight and be specific on the start and end times you are available. Give your friend your undivided attention within the timeframe of your choosing.

Speak up. When all other efforts have failed and you cannot endure another conversation, say something. You will feel better about being honest, and your friend or coworker will eventually feel better knowing how you feel. They deserve to be heard, and someone else on their friend list may be more willing to listen.

Don’t feel guilty. Think about it, would you want a friend to keep quiet if they felt you were repeatedly dumping on them? You’d want them to tell the truth, nicely of course. So treat them as you would wish to be treated by them.

Keep this simple adage in mind: one of the best ways to help other people feel happier is to be happy yourself. Setting your boundaries might be just the ticket to happiness all around.

Question of the Week # 38 / Have You Set Your Personal Boundaries?

I am not your friend.Don't misunderstand me, I'd love nothing more than to just be your friend, but it is not my job.

I'm your parent.

And with that goes the biggest responsibility I've ever been entrusted with.

So as to not mess up this assignment...I am going  to follow the rules of what it means to be a parent, even when it sucks to be me. Which honestly, is often.

Wouldn't I rather just agree with you, exchange a few surface niceties and go about my merry way, instead of endlessly dragging out of you whatever your latest problem is? Oh heck yes.

But that isn't the job I took on. And I'm not one to brush things aside, let half truths lie, or hold feelings inside, for long.

So I will scold, prod, encourage, advise, push, pull, question and challenge my way through your week. Every week.

I will even say "no" to you, and I will say it often, without reason, with reason and every place in between.

Because I love you. Because I care. Because I can. Because I am your parent.

I won't attempt to buy your love with special treats, or adventures. I'll instead buy you "real" food, boots, underwear, deodorant, glasses, shampoo and all the other necessities required. I won't help you buy a car you can't afford, instead I will take you to the doctor when you are sick, navigate through your medical bills, bank statements and job applications when they don't make sense, stay up half the night when you have had too much to drink, all in hopes that someday you will learn to be independent. That you will make better choices.

I'd really rather go with you to the flea market, or bowling, out for Chinese or shopping...but instead I will work, so I can pay the bills.  I'll do the laundry, clean the house, do the grocery shopping and make sure everyone has a safe, clean and healthy place to live and thrive. A place where friends are welcome and wanted. Where birthdays are celebrated. Where accomplishments are celebrated. And failures are discussed.  I'll go to the boring school meetings, the conferences, and attend any baseball games I can fit into my work day.

And when things go wrong in your life, or you face disappointment or failure, I'll still be here---living my boring, predictable existence. Ready to lift you up or bring you back down to reality.  All the while doing my best at the hardest job I will ever take on, being your parent.  So you can have a chance at a life beyond what you were born into. A life with choices. A life where you can live to be anything you want to be.

I'm your parent, I'm not your friend. And I will always be here.

It actually hurts to say that I am not your friend, because someday I sure would like to be.

In the meantime I'm right here. I haven't changed, even though you have.

I am still the reality check. The thorn in your side. The fun sucker.

The one who loves you more than you can ever imagine.

And I will remain that person, no matter how far you push me away.

Because it is my job as your parent. And I intend to be the best parent I can.

Where do you find strength when life gets hard?