Parenting For Humanity Blog

Aside from some rather bald-faced lapses in judgment and a few of those completely-self-absorbed moments, I’m a thoughtful, connected supportive friend.

The person whom I routinely let down, though, is me. I can forgive a friend’s lapse in judgment with barely a second thought, but my own? Huh uh. I’m likely to pull it out every evening and use it to beat myself on the head. It’s funny because I keep trying to write that when it comes to my own mistakes I lose all sense of proportion, except there’s enough of my brain that thinks my response is proportional and rational that I can’t.

This afternoon I stopped to wonder how I would respond if I knew a friend were struggling. How would I be a friend? How do I react to imperfection? I make room for it, maybe try to cushion it, absorb some of the blows with a listening ear. I don’t expect my friends to be perfect. I expect them to be thoughtful, to struggle, to have triumphs and setbacks. Even more- I sincerely want to be there for both the good times and the challenges. I want to be present, helpful, maybe just quietly sharing the load a bit.

I went outside to my flower garden and started clipping.

I took my time, touched each stem. I considered how the colors would go together, how they support each other, draw out each others colors.

In the end, I mixed baby ironweed in with mature zinnias, and offered myself a bit of friendship.
It’s a token really, a symbol of hope that I can offer myself the same support and comfort I would offer a friend- that through strong connections with each other we can all draw the strength and resilience we need to extend kindness and forgiveness both inward and outward.

This week we’re talking about the little gifts we can offer ourselves, whether singing a song, cutting some flowers or taking a quiet walk. How are you a good friend to yourself?