Everything I've ever wanted

Today, a friend messaged me that she had the thought, the realization, that she has everything she’s ever wanted. It’s maybe not been in the moment she thought it would be, or the manner she expected. Still, she’s gotten it, and she still has it. Everything she’s ever wanted.

It’s a thought I’ve had before, and one I was meant to hear again, right then. A reoriented perspective on what is here right now, and a reminder. Reminders to release the timeline, release the constraints, and let be as big and beautiful as it is. Everything I’ve ever wanted. That, and more.

She ended it, too, with “How lucky am I,” and I loved reading it as a statement. How lucky is she, and how lucky am I, and how important that we see that—that we are lucky, and also that we choose to see—that we have everything we’ve ever wanted.

Let yourself receive

I visited my friend’s apartment this week for the first time, her first place on her own. I had accumulated these little gifts to give her, including an extra pair of shoes I’d been sent, for free, (Soul sisters and sole sisters; we’re the same size), and a Matisse cutout that had hung in my old apartment in Wiliamsburg, where we both lived prior, before she moved West and I realized, in a cold, hard NYC winter, that felt like a really good idea, too, to live in LA. I followed six months later.

When I saw the Matisse print in my closet it automatically felt like hers, and I remembered I hadn’t yet been to her place, so I invited myself over. She received the invite and was happy to have me and offered to cook dinner; it was salmon and Japanese sweet potatoes and salad and perfect, and I brought a bottle of wine to toast with because, while neither of us drink much (California sober. as they say), it felt right and special for that Tuesday night, like a ritual. She asked me about life and listened, and the way she listens feels like such a gift, to be received that way, she is always present and patient, sharing insight and responses in the right way at the right moments.). She shared that she’d received a raise, and she hadn’t even asked for it, and we celebrated that. Close friendship is like that, all of that.

When I was in Puerto Rico in December, I felt like I was grasping to try to understand what I was meant to do. Stay, and take more time off? Leave, as originally scheduled? I had an Akashic Records Reading + Healing with my incredible friend Roya Pourshalchi right before Christmas. I wanted big, clear answers; divine guidance. “It feels like you are meant to receive,” she shared. That was the overarching advice, the archangel message, of the session. Images of receiving at a feast, seated at the end of the table, abundant plates and joyous company.

The next morning, Elida, my aunt’s longtime house help, was there. When I walked into the kitchen she asked if I wanted coffee, and breakfast. Oatmeal? “Oh, it’s OK; I can do it…” and I stopped myself. Let yourself receive. I love the oatmeal and coffee she makes; she cooks the oatmeal slowly with the full cinnamon sticks, simmers the almond milk over the stove and then combines it with to the Puerto Rican coffee bubbled up to ready in the Moka Pot. I said yes, and it was a perfect breakfast. She beamed when I told her how much I liked it. In receiving, we also give. I stayed two more weeks.

My friend offered me tea after dinner, when we were watching Love Island. I paused initially, not wanting to create more work for her, to take more from her. That was silly, of course; she has a generous heart, and I know she was offering because she wanted to. “Oh, you’re going to like the message,” she said when she opened the teabag.

“Let the opportunities come to you,” the tab read.

Let yourself receive. A compliment, without feeling the need to return it right away. A new day for being there, predictably, and, also, differently. An opportunity, whether you take it or not. Giving and receiving, the same flow.

Later, when I pulled my bike out to leave, there was a spider weaving a web, against all odds, across the entryway. “She does this every night,” my friend said. Spinning a web; an existence of being through receiving.

For my LA Lolo: To giving and receiving in friendship, for forever!