I have been visiting my hometown this past week and seized the opportunity to hang out with my oldest friend and her new young daughter. I’ve known her more than 15 years, and when I am with her, am amazed at how we grow and change (she’s got nursing “assets!”) and how we stay the same (she still despises her hair). I love the fact that I am my most comfortable self around her, goofy, but sharp and witty, and not having to prove myself to her. Thus is the magic of a long, shared and seasoned history.
When she asked what I wanted to do, I came up with this task.
She was hesitant. “People will think we’re weird.”
“So what?” I explained it was about our intention, our energy, not their responses.
So I bought $20 of Gerby Daisys and purpley blooms and arranged them into 6 different bouquets with lables like “Wishing you Laughter,” “May you feel hopeful,” and we walked up and down a local outdoor shopping area trying to find people to leave them with.
Some blustered in guardedness (a new mom in a stroller), others in shyness (a pimply faced 16 year old boy selling hot dogs) and some in delight (“A co-worker walked out this morning, are you serious?”).
The point remains: people can be surprisely closed off to receiving love, to the opportunity to be touched. And yet, a tiny bit of persistence chips away at that wall, and pushes beyond our comfort zone, to confirm “we matter to each other.”
Perhaps the boy tossed those blazing pink sunbeams. But maybe he didn’t. Maybe this morning he is waking up to them, feeling a little bit more pleased with himself.
I certainly am!
Do you talk to strangers? I usually don’t…but my friend’s presence alivens me to be that outgoing version of myself.