As often as possible, I have spent my Friday nights (and the wee hours of Saturday morning) for the past few months with the same group of friends. I have come to treasure this time, genuinely feeling when I miss it that the beginning of my next week lacks something vital. It’s an odd assortment of people, or primarily one friend, who makes this worthwhile, but the total experience has become almost spiritual.
Two Fridays ago, two things happened. I was sitting there, shaking my head, saying I just don’t know anymore. I need to get my head together. And my friend pulled from his back pocket a small book called “The Art of Peace.”
“I think you need this more than I do.”
If that wasn’t enough, he always asks me one question. That Friday it was “What’s the most important thing to you?” It took me a few days to get back to him on that.
That along with a very revealing conversation with another person who has become an amazing friend in the past few months, really made me see a lot about myself. It was so interesting in conjunction with “The Art of Peace” and “The Interior Castle” that I thought for a brief moment that aforementioned friend just might be an angel.
Way too many messages. I’d lie if I said I’m not struggling right now. On many, many levels.
But I think I learned last night where this struggle started. What it means. How it’s occurred over the past four years.
And in all honesty…how to fix it. And I think I reclaimed a tiny bit of my soul in just deciding that it is, indeed, fixable.