What I learned on my summer vacation...

My best friend came to visit from Georgia. Her daughter, husband, and three children came to visit from Mexico City. We are related by relations, in that she and I married brothers and our daughters are cousins. Hers is the family that included me in their holidays all the years that my own family didn't. She is the epitome of the definition of a friend - someone who knows me well and deeply and loves me anyway. We can be apart for months or years and then, when we are together, feel as if we had never parted. And I might be one of the only people in her life who loves her despite her quirks and never criticizes or tries to change her. I just cherish her and do my best to let her know she is loved. As she does for me.

Strangely for me, I really had no plans for these two weeks, except to see my visitors whenever I could and to relax. I've always felt more comfortable making plans, organizing what I would do tomorrow or on the weekend or next week. But for many years, I have known that living in the present, fully participating in each moment, is the way I wanted to live. It seems the only authentic way to live, to be present in the present. But I've always worried and fretted and feared and been anxious about what might come, how would I handle impending difficulties, what would I do if? So I chose to live almost each minute and each day of my vacation without plans, giving up control of my activities and time, and just be there, fully listening and hearing and seeing. At first, I had to be quite conscious of doing this, being aware of when my thoughts drifted away from what was happening and bringing myself back to the moment. After a while, it was easier and I rarely thought about the future and possible situations. We had many, many delightful moments together, my friend and the children and cousins, and I was right there, all of me, to enjoy them.

I also realized that, when I hold still and be still and quiet, truths come to me. Tough to face truths like: That I have stresses in my life but most I create myself, like when I expect my house to always be clean or that I should do the work of three at my office. That I create my own expectations and that I should be kinder to myself. That I victimize myself when I say things like "my job is difficult" or "there are no nice guys out there" or "I work too hard" or "I'm not thin enough" or "I don't have enough friends." And grateful truths, like: I am strong, I am healthy, I can make my own decisions, I can create my own standards for myself, that I have a roof over my head, that my daughter is happy, that I have no control over anyone else, and that I can create whatever life and joys and happiness I choose.

It's been a wonderful, quiet, joyful, and delicious two weeks. I didn't spend today, the last day of my vacation, anguishing over what I will find in my office tomorrow. Instead, I went to brunch with four generations of the women in my friend's family. We ate and talked and shared and laughed and I looked around, thinking how lucky I was to be part of this family. And I was there, all of me, fully.