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Reaching

It feels like weeks ago. It was only Sunday that I took this picture — time has felt accelerated, hasn’t it. I was laying on the grass for a bit, wanting to feel 10 minutes of warming spring sun. I love the way these buds of a tree reach to the sun — it’s a flowering cherry tree that will be in full bloom in ten days.

Yesterday I reached out to two old friends. The first by text — we are of similar age and have known each other for thirty years, back to the era when there wasn’t texting. Our rhythm has been to be in touch every six months or so. We have respect for each other. And a bit of distant brothering. I asked how he was doing in this time of change. His response included some awe about how so much is being interrupted, obligating us to “different ways of getting things done.” 

With the second friend, I sent email. We’ve known each other for less time, maybe five years. Our friendship has been punctuated by periodic walks in the neighborhood. Times to wander. Times to wonder. I asked him similarly about how he was doing — he is a faith community leader and probably very much under pressure of a lot of moving parts and a lot of worry. I offered my help, not even sure what that would be. He responded, sharing one of his current challenges. I’ll followup with him.

Reaching is one of the steps now, isn’t it. With friends. With the people near us. With strangers. With community. It isn’t reaching to grasp for what is “old” entitlements. It is reaching for what is “new” experiments together. Or, perhaps, reaching to do our best with the undefined, yet increasingly poignant “now” that is both within us, and among us.

And perhaps to be held by a beautiful sky, ten minutes at a time.

 

 

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