The Self in Self Care

 

My friend Nicole bakes the most delicious confections. When we lived in Holladay, she’d arrive to the cookout or rooftop party with something extravagantly hand-crafted, like an artisan lavender shortbread cookie infused with a sprig of fresh mint from her garden. Once, she tackled an oversized Yule Log for a Christmas Party and we all crowded around her campfire of sugar, cheering as it was accented with twigs of mistletoe.

Or Laurie would immaculately display each creation on her enormous collection of cake stands, sometimes drizzled with honey or accented with flowers. Pretty things taste better, she’d say. She’d show up to your dirty house on a Tuesday afternoon carrying sugar-coated orange rolls stacked on a glimmering brass tray and waltz into your entryway to declare, It’s National Friends Day! Let’s eat!

(She is obviously a favorite of mine.)

Our circle of friends had long adapted to her culinary whims, but once, at a weekend BBQ when everyone brought chips and salsa or boxed cookies, she presented over 70 homemade miniature croissants from a gingham lined picnic basket...

At the BBQ, while kids ran underfoot and kickballs flew in the air, another friend made a comment to her. Laurie! You’re making us all look bad. Can’t you just take a nap or something?

And Laurie looked at my friend, puzzled, and said, simply, You don’t get it. Baking IS my nap.

—

My Favorite Conversation Starter

I'm not a fan of small talk.

I’m just not good at it; I want to dive in – faster, deeper, down into the depths of what makes us all tick. (I know you’re not surprised by this.) Like when I was talking with some friends or colleagues in the lunch room today, I like to keep a few intentional conversation starters in my back pocket for when the constant chatter slows to a murmur and the conversation is in dire danger of turning into weather observation territory.

I get that this isn’t cool.

It’s not effortless (you know how I feel about that word), and it doesn’t necessarily allow for an organic conversational flow. Still, it’s something I can’t shake – this need to actually know each other and not just know things about each other. I don’t know, it’s a thing I have. And so, I ask questions. This one’s a current favorite:

“What’s the biggest misconception people have about the role that you play?

Friends, this will turn into a five hour conversation, easy. This question covers so much territory – image management, self perception, relational observations. It is astounding the lies we believe on a daily basis. For instance, here are my answers, for a few of my own roles:

Role: Nurse.
Misconception: That I’m a hero. That I am co-dependent. That my life is easy.

Role: Working Mother.
Misconception: That I think following my dreams are more important than training my children.

Role: Christian.
Misconception: That I’m holier than thou. That I don’t have doubts. That I’ve figured it out. That I’m better for it.

Lies, lies, lies. See what I mean? This question is a shovel, digging hard and strong and fast into some really, really rocky terrain. It’s best asked in a trusted circle where vulnerability is an agreed-upon pursuit, completely void of comparison.

Anyway, I will give it a go. I will ask my co-worker that asked me if I would like to join them to learn some mountain biking skills. I'll tell you what happens. (I know you want to hear.)

KEEP CALM

and pretend I'm still at the beach

1. I arrive last week in California thinking we'll spend two days on our own surfing at the beach (if you don't know, I would rather spend the extra time in saltwater that heals everything). Gavin - a friend of Markus' who sprained his thumb in the game on Saturday morning - was planning on staying the extra day with us. He meets us at Venice Beach and stops to watch the skateboarders (I am a moron and am not nearly dressed warm enough). Michelle - his mom- used to live here too.  We take a ride down the beach with some tandem bikes stopping over at the Santa Monica pier again. Gavin is not able to steer. I join her son and husband and we chat while the boys ride the ferris wheel again. A lovely time is had by all. My Venice experience is radically improved.
   
   All by 100% happenstance!
2. LAX sprint: ran ran ran for the rental car shuttle, and made it. 
3. Evening snack: frozen banana covered with chocolate and nuts while watching the sunset on Newport. 

Oh, and I found some seashells to bring home. This is something I'm never quite sure what to do with. 

Stomp

After the hockey playing and Outliers picnic went down, Markus went to sleep over at Gavin's and Max went with his friends to the stomp. Tortilla chips and salsa for me, after a trip to Walmart. Max brought his friends, Lexi and Aaron over for smoothies after. A new old hangout date. I remembered to clean out my locker at work and finally sold my last nursing textbook. Sometimes I like being alone. Not to be lonely, but to enjoy my free time, being myself. 

Friends Are Worth Way More Than Money

{A real friend is like winning the lottery. There is no risk when it comes to a good friend, you always win.} 

I know the saying, “money can’t buy happiness,” what I know is that friendship can. Yep, our happiness is dependent on your social standing more than your economic one. While poverty is a state, but feeling poor is a state of mind. You are only as poor as you feel (when the hunger pains stop) and just because you have money doesn’t mean you will always feel rich. Because it’s not the lack of money that makes us feel poor, but the lack of social interactions. I just picked Morgen up from his Digital Media class that he is taking, and he was telling me how our friendships are worth something. “Putting a Price Tag on Friends, Relatives, and Neighbors,” he told me, discusses the monetary values we put on social interactions.

I guess, through statistical analysis, economists developed a way to assess the worth of social interactions by taking random samples of people’s satisfaction levels over different points in their lives. This gave them shadow prices they then placed on the worth of relationships. According to the results, the value of friendship makes us happier than a $133,000 pay raise.

Because money gets old. Or maybe I forget what it was like before having that money. But I never forget what it’s like to have friends. I feel the cold emptiness of lost friendships much more than lost paychecks. Not having someone to call hurts more than not having a few extra thousand in the bank.

So when I'm worried that I'm not making enough money to make me happy, I look at friendships not my salary, because choosing to spend more time with friends brings me more joy than working all those extra hours for a pay raise.

That, and it’s my friends that make me feel rich, not all the money I'm making without them.

{Wasting time with friends is always going to trump wasting money}

{Saving a friend is a lot more fun than saving money}

{While money can bring a lot of things, it can't bring a sense of humor}

{Having a small house full of friends is more fun than a large house full of money}

How much is a friendship worth? How much would you pay for a good one?