[Photo by Denise Andrade]
I was thinking about yesterday's blog entry and realized I came across a tad too flippantly with regard to my referencing the shifts that have been occurring in my circle of friends. When I re-read that paragraph this morning, I saw that it would not be too difficult to imagine me sitting at a table with a list of my friends, wantonly striking some off the page and laughing maniacally as my thick black pen marked out their names. This process was neither haphazard nor resentful; I have not let my connections with certain people drift away quietly out of anger or resentment. It was also not a process that I was inspired to do for kicks. I did not wake up one morning last fall and decide, "Hey, it's time for a change, so I think I'll drop a few people from my speed dial and send them on their way."
No, this is not the way things went.
I have tiptoed around this process a few times on this blog, feeling wary of airing out the details. But now that the emotional charge of these shifts has ebbed and I know these releases are healthy, I think it is important to be honest about why this happened. In a nutshell, all the seismic shifts began when Ordinary Sparkling Moments was released, and that's no coincidence.
At a reading I did at Book Soup last November, a very wise nine year old girl asked me, "Have any of your friends not supported you with your book?" My immediate reaction was to pull her aside and say, "Let's you & me bust out of this joint. We'll go somewhere where the margaritas and root beer floats flow, and I'll tell you some stories." I instead answered her as honestly, succinctly and positively as I could, saying something along the lines of, "There have been some friends who haven't been there for me and that has been really hard, but there have been even more people have supported me in remarkable ways. The way I've learned to look at it is that as some people did not show up for me, it created room for new friends and supporters." This was not a rosy answer to a thorny question meant to cloak deeper feelings of resentment; what I said was the truth.
What I chose not to delve into was that experience has shown me a peculiar piece of truth about making a dream real: Once your choices, actions, and accomplishments start to ruffle the feathers of those around you, you know you're on the right track. This is not to say that your intention ought to be to upset people, it is to say that when you take bold leaps, when you stand firm in your own belief system, and as you become more centered in knowing who you are, it is going to create a ripple effect that you won't be able to predict, manage or control. For the most part this is a beautiful opening that will only serve you and bring you closer to the best life you can create for yourself, but along the way, you will also experience loss, disappointment and confusion. There will be people who you thought would be your greatest cheerleaders who will remain silent. There will be people who you have supported along their creative journeys who will refuse to return the effort. There will be people who will not ever speak to you again. All of this has happened to me since last August.
It is part of the journey, and, ironically enough, it is a sign you are headed in the right direction. But here's the other absolute truth of this: It is not about you. It is not personal, it is not because you are doing anything wrong. The actions of others in response to your forging your true path is all about their struggles, pasts, lost dreams, expectations and beliefs. The simplest example is the all-too-common story of someone quitting their job to fulfill a dream of opening their own business, only to have someone they thought would support them be vocally critical of their choice. Why? Because the naysayer is stuck in a job they hate, unable or unwilling to take the same bold leap. The last time I heard someone share this exact experience with me? Last week. The last time someone shared with me that she wasn't sure which friends were going to stand by her through a significant (and beautiful) recent change in her life? Yesterday.
This is the truth of setting your own course, not said in discouragement, but in the beam of a strange ray of hope. Every time someone walks away from an opportunity to be your friend, it is good information. As we become more adept at learning when to release shallow, unhealthy or imbalanced connections with love and gratitude in our hearts, we lighten our load and step more confidently into the best future we can create for ourselves. In the big picture, this is all positive, forward movement.
I have tried to accept these experiences from last year without judgment. This is far easier said than done, and I will cop to feelings of resentment, bitterness, anger, and betrayal. I have sneered at the words some people have written, spreading stories of sunshine that, from where I am sitting, are hollow. I have gossiped, made snide remarks, bitched, complained and cried. It isn't easy, this open-hearted acceptance of other people's choices to treat one of your proudest achievements as a dust ball they can sweep out of their consciousness. Even writing this, I see how easy it would be to careen down a slippery slope of negativity right now, even after writing so passionately about acceptance, gentle release and hope. It has not been easy, but I have tried my best to move through the tangles with respect, integrity and grace. I've stumbled, to be sure, but I've tried.
We humans are complicated, and can't always be there for one another the way everyone wants. The status quo is an easy place to exist; it is in change, movement, and transformation that all of our relationships are going to be challenged. This is the way it is. This is part of the journey.
