I stand at my window watching the desolate streets on Saturday evening, while the trees sway to the gusty winds and the rain continues to beat down. Even though it has only rained most of the day, I feel like I have not seen the sun in days.
Despite all the warnings about the weather, I decided not to heed any of it and instead chose to head to the farmers market.
When I got there, even though I was gone for one weekend, the welcome I received made me feel like I was gone for weeks on end. I realized how much I will miss the friendly banter every Saturday morning once the market closes in December. Every year I tell myself that it is too much work and I am not going back, however, a new year rolls around and there I am back again slaving over the oven on a Friday evening.
The wind is blowing insanely now, making me not want to leave the comfort of my home. So I stay in and dream about Sunny california, blue skies, sunset sails, long drives along the beach to Malibu and the best friends I miss.
Considering there is not much I can do on a rainy day, I head to the kitchen and start cooking. Cold, rainy days make it perfect weather for turning the oven on, listening to music and having a glass of wine.
Once dinner was done, I sit down to read a book someone I met recently gave me as a token of thank you for being his friend. It was a book by Kahlil Gibran. To be honest I felt guilty, mostly because he had this inscription in the book “this book is a little piece of me for you to keep. Thank you for being my friend”. To me he is just an acquaintance and not someone I would call a friend.
This made me realize that there are some people we call friends and who might not think of us as friends and there are others we call acquaintance and but think of us as friends. I no longer use the word friend loosely, it is not about having a drink or meeting for dinner that makes a friendship, it is so much more than that.
Reading through the book, this poem on friendship was one of my favorites which I want to share.
Your friend is your needs answered.
He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.
And he is your board and your fireside.
For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.
When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the “nay” in your own mind, nor do you withhold the “ay.”
And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;
For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.
When you part from your friend, you grieve not;
For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.
And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.
For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught.
And let your best be for your friend.
If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.
For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?
Seek him always with hours to live.
For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.
And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.
For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.