multitudes

Here is something I say publicly on my blog every four months or so (and in my head multiple times a week): I am a bad friend.

But that's not true. I am actually a fiercely loyal friend when it comes down to it. I have had the same best friend for well over a decade and I am on good terms with all of my childhood friends. Even the friend I had a ginormous falling out with a few years back is now my Facebook pal and we will on occasion message each other nice words.

So I guess I'm not as atrocious of a friend as I think I am in my head. I still feel like I could "be better," though. Isn't that just like me (and probably you and probably everyone else on the watery planet) - always striving to be better be happier be kinder be this be that be more more more.

How about something radical? How about being perfect as is?

I like that. It's not as passive as it may seem. In fact, self-acceptance is quite the opposite of "taking the easy way out." It's a constant struggle. It is facing ugly, vicious, embarrassing sides of yourself and showing those sides - which make up YOU - tenderness. Warmth. A quiet understanding that you are simply trying. And then once you have done that very-not-easy task, perhaps then you can find a friend within yourself.

Yes, I have been a terrible friend - to myself. The love I show to myself is directly linked to the love I show to others. I cannot be attentive and present for anyone at all if I haven't given myself the kind of attention and care I deserve.

My point is that I want to be a better friend to you (and there are many "yous" out there). Desperately. And I know there have been some failings on my part - missed meetings, quick cancellations, forgetful moments - but I assure you that I love each of you. I am going to be working on me for some time, okay? I need to. I need to get to a place where I respect myself again. "I am large, I contain multitudes." May I remember that. May you remember that. May we have patience with one another and with ourselves. We are loved.