in the end we only regret the chances we didn't take
Friendship is a beautiful part of the human experience, an enrichment of our souls. The ability to connect and share your genuine self with another person is all at once vulnerable and immensely gratifying. As I’ve grown into an adult and grown up as a friend, my friendships are more important to me than ever, my true friends rare treasures to be cherished.
I met a young woman on the plane ride home from Boston last Friday. We gave the cursory greetings as we settled into our seats and for most of the flight she read her book and I wrote a scene for my novel. But during the last 45 minutes we started chatting and dove deep into some personal details with each other in a way that only perfect strangers can do. She noticed I was writing and I shared some about my new journey on that path. I noticed the engagement ring on her left hand and learned about her upcoming wedding. We discussed marriage, family and faith and at one point my eyes even brimmed with tears. Her story, what little I know of it, has stayed with me all week and I found myself reflecting on why I was so inspired by her. A few specific qualities stand out, the same qualities I admire and am so attracted to with my own family and dear friends. There are many categories from which to draw inspiration in this world, but these are the five that impact me in the greatest ways.
There is significant mention of Iran in our media lately – so much controversy surrounding the nuclear deal, sanctions, mullahs and the like. For nearly 40 years the U.S. has had a broken relationship with the country and certainly there is a lot to have concern about with the current regime, so many unanswered questions and a foundation of mistrust. But I don’t want to write about politics or government or nuclear weapons. I am not trying to spark a debate about what is a good deal or a bad deal. Inspired by a friend over lunch conversation, instead I would like to share what I know about the country as a destination and the uniqueness of the people and the culture.
The early evening sky gleamed, a uniform silvery blue with flat gray clouds hanging in painted forms like a child’s drawing. The summer sun had not yet set, leaving enough light to see my friends as they sped ahead of me across the lawn, the world draining of color in the disappearing light. It was hot, deep-south hot. The humid air draped us like a heavy curtain, thick and damp with the anticipation of a midnight storm. The nighttime creatures were starting a chorus, crickets and tree frogs chirping their summer melody. The smell of freshly cut grass dusted the air. There was laughter ahead; I watched as my friends played tag, darting in a zig-zag pattern on their way to the creek. I picked up my pace and tried to catch up with the group.