The very best kind of day

My high school friend Julie was in town today for a workshop and came by for lunch. Then we walked the coastal path for hours, and sat on a sea wall and talked for another hour, past sunset. One of those intense conversations that you don't want to end. Old friends are the best.

One of the things she said that I found particularly poignant: Pain isn't there to make us miserable, it's there to make us aware.

We talked a lot about managing our reactions to things in such a way that we don't get pulled into a negative rut. A lot of it is about expectations, those pesky ankle biters that trip us up all the time. I set very high expectations for myself and for others, which of course invites a lot of disappointment in myself and others (and frustration and anger and impatience and...).

I made her day by giving her an Icelandic sweater my mother made for me. At my insistence, mom made one for Julie in 1980 before we left Ireland. Julie loved that sweater and has been grieving the loss of it ever since she washed it and shrunk it while in college. She said she still thinks about that sweater. I have one just like it and I gave it to her. I don't think she could be happier if I handed her 10,000 pounds.
11-7