There are moments in life when you realize just how precious friends are.
I had one such moment this weekend.
It wasn’t anything dramatic.
It wasn’t anything dire.
It was merely a simple moment in which I found myself staring down some old insecurities that I’d thought long vanquished. (Funny how those things never really go away, they either morph to new form or sometimes hibernate for extended periods.)
In any case, in a weekend otherwise punctuated by incredible high points, I found myself mired in an emotional trough, flummoxed by the situation and feeling … well … frankly it was a bit unnerving.
My friend Beth, with whom I’d spent some time on Friday evening, sensed there was something up with me. She’s good that way, Beth. Her sense of people is keen and she knows me better than many.
After a few email exchanges, Beth could sense that my Saturday was being spent in one of those not-so-great moods, and she called.
The conversation was brief, and as usual her perspective spot on.
And in that brief exchange I was reminded both of the power of friendship and the importance of not taking oneself too seriously.