on laughter and continuing and listing

I’m sitting in a bedroom in a house in Illinois that belongs to a friend I’ve had for more than 30 years. We sat next to each other in Western Civilization our freshmen year at boarding school and by the end of about the second week of school, our teacher had to separate us for talking too much. We were two girls who really never got in trouble who were so excited to have found each other and couldn’t contain that excitement. By the time we got to the fourth class period of the day A LOT had happened in 24 hours in our little world in Culver, Indiana, and we had things to say to each other.

I’ve spent the last few days with her, other friends from our time at Culver, and with her family. What a gift this time has been. And I want to share about how humor and kindness shows up in our friendship.

One of the topics we talk about these days is how to keep showing up in the world right now - as a human, a mom, a friend, a daughter, a co-worker, a partner, etc. We talk about how to stay curious and kind even when someone else is sharing words we don’t agree with. We talk about how to raise others up and continue to replenish our needs. And we laugh. Oh my goodness how we laugh.  

One of the nights we were together this weekend found us side by side in bed giggling like we were 14 again. And when I say giggling, I mean this: my friend and I were staying with her mom in my friend’s childhood home. We had both headed to bed after a long day of meetings and connection (we were back at our boarding school volunteering). I was in her brother’s room; she was in her childhood bedroom. Her parents had three kids and each still has a bedroom in her mother’s home.

I found something funny on my phone as I was doing that thing we do these days - scrolling before falling asleep. I kept my laughter in and tiptoed down the hall to see if my friend was still awake. She was. I crawled in bed next to her and shared the story. And then we both laughed the quietest belly laughs we have ever tried to hide from her mom in the middle of the night. We were 14 year olds again for that minute of laughter that quickly became 10 minutes of two middle-aged women unable to stay quiet as they laughed from their bellies with the good stuff that comes from laughter flowing through every one of their cells.

I eventually went back to my room and am pretty sure I feel asleep with a smile on my face. The next morning when we connected in the kitchen, we both felt rejuvenated from head to toe. More than 48 hours later I am smiling so big as I share this story with you. It feels like that laughter will live inside me as a breathing thing for weeks.

What I really want to tell you though is that part of the joy of spending time with my friend is that we’ve been making the choice to be really present with one another for several years now. We ask for what we need before we share something hard - “I think I need you just to listen” and “Okay, I am open to your thoughts now” and “What do you need from me?” She uses her magical powers of nurturing through food so I remember to eat. I hold up a metaphorical mirror and share how I see the ways she and her husband infuse their home with joy. She invites me to slow down my thoughts when I interrupt her because my brainstorming brain has kicked in and is too damn fast (in other words, she holds up a hand and says calmly, “let me finish, first”). I listen to her share a story and remind her that she doesn’t have to fix anything right now. She holds my hand when she knows I’m deep in the feels of wondering what might happen next.

As I write to you, I’m thinking about how I have to practice this presence within myself so I can continue to practice it with my friends. And I’m back to Maya Angelou’s words in the quote above - “My wish for you is that you continue…”

One of the ways I practice presence is through writing lists. The act of getting things out of my head and onto a page in a list relaxes me, gets me back into my body and heart, and even inspires me when I look back through them searching for the breadcrumbs of wisdom from past me.

A way to join me in this practice is through the next round of Five Things, which starts October 1. In this course, I show up in your inbox every day with stories, poems, songs, links to things that will inspire you, alongside a prompt to make a list of five things. It’s a simple practice that has become a deeply supportive one for many of us during the last few years. As always, I’m working on the list of prompts for this round with an eye toward this time of year along with The And Spaces I know so many of us are holding. I’ll also be making my own journal again and will share some peeks of that on Instagram later this month.

Over here, I’m going to try to get a few more hours of sleep. It’s the middle of the night in the timezone I’ll be back on by the end of the day. I’m glad though that I decided to get up and write to you instead of just letting the stories swirl around keeping me up. Thanks for being on the other side of this note. I am deeply grateful for you.

May you have moments of ease and joy today. May you continue to astonish the world with your brave, wise heart. And may you soon find yourself in the midst of a deep belly laugh with a friend that will stick around inside you for a long, long time.

Side by side,
Liz

PS You can sign up for Five Things here.

PPS Those words about being present + that flower in my journal are by my friend Brandi Kincaid. She taught me the joy of clear sticker paper, which comes in handy for the delightful art + wisdom + hope she creates.