That "I'm in the Hospital" text

Perhaps the scariest thing I've ever read was the text message I received from a dear friend tonight.

"I'm in the hospital right now. I've had a seizure. I just wanted to let you know."

It is truly amazing how life continues moving after a wrenching of sorts. Having very recently ended a relationship once very important to me, I figured I would spend a few months soaking up the solitude and preparing to emerge from my cocoon as a spunky new butterfly. I planned to have lazy days rolling around in bed or padding around the kitchen barefoot feasting on Cheetohs. I was going to allow myself as much time to wallow in my feelings as I wanted.

But less than a week later, I receive that text.

I immediately called my friend. She's fine, although her words are extremely slurred due to the grade-A painkillers she's on; but she's going to be just fine. We couldn't spend hours on the phone like we normally do - she needed rest - but we did rouse old feelings and pull on each other's heartstrings. We miss each other. It's a simple, elegant admission between two daughters of God. And life gets in the way. Life, people, circumstances - they all get in the way. But they shouldn't. Because you never know when people who love you the most will need to be front and center in your life, after they've been riding silently in the backseat for years. But you've got to be absolutely ready, in every way possible, when they begin to make some noise.

I believe God took someone OUT of my life to make more room for those who need the God IN my life. I don't want to be so focused on my own feelings that I forget those who suffer emotionally, physically, spiritually, or mentally. People are just arriving to destinations that I left long ago, and they may need a little help maneuvering around the new territory. I've been feeling so exposed lately. And now, I'm starting to think God is doing something with this transparency. I'm open, I'm unbound, I'm hanging onto God, a faceless wind. What more can I do but spread my arms and catch His drift?

I am excited to say that I will take a journey to visit my friend. And other friends. And myself.

When life is all about my relationship with God, I can only dream of the places He will send me.

xo,

Syd

Soul Sisters

"Tonight, we were meant to fight."
-- Margo Clower

God works in mysterious ways.  Emotional drama aside, I had a pretty busy day and evening feeling levelheaded and mellow. My mind was zoned out, my body was moving, and my heart was pleasantly numb. Basically, I had complete control over my stormy emotions--and why not? Why not keep your feelings in glass bottles; when exposed, they're not going to do much more than send a rain cloud to follow you the rest of the day. I figured I was doing a great service to myself.

Nine-thirty rolls around and it's time to go on a "phone date" with my friend Margo. We've been ethereal friends for about nine years now, and we've seen each other through the best and worst of life. We are both stubborn, so regardless of our personal hurdles, we always find a bit of star dust to sprinkle on the other whenever we talk. It's too much of a multifaceted relationship to describe, as Margo seems a bit otherworldly almost every time I speak to her. She's probably my better half in many ways, but the best way I can describe her is my Soul Sister.

Our phone date is going pretty well. Margo shares her heart's fears and burdens as I listen with every intent to shower her in exhortation as soon as she finishes speaking. And when she finished, I did exactly as I had planned and said exactly what I planned to say, exactly how I planned to say it. Well, the polar ice caps must have melted, or maybe the equator froze, because from zero-to-sixty, Margo and I were in a pretty heated shouting match. I didn't even realize what was happening until I felt myself sit straight up while my hands shook. Adrenaline and sweat, that's all I can remember. Margo was crying, and I felt just as cold as ice. All in all, a horrible experience in the moment.

I've never argued with Margo in our nine years of friendship. Ever. Not one time. In fact, she's always been a break from the reality of life and its complex nature. Most of our time together was spent surrounded by candles or incense, soothing music, and papers scattered all over her bed or mine. Or, maybe it was a long night of shared poetry and laughter, grueling stories, or lofty dreams we were so sure we could touch if we just reached up high enough. Life with Margo has always been a fantasy land of mischief, dream-catching, and Godly encouragement mixed with sisterly love. I have never had one ill-feeling toward Margo, and vice versa. But tonight, we both simply snapped.

I said some things to her that I regretted, and she said some things that hurt her to say as well. And for a moment, I couldn't see the good in the situation. While she was speaking, I began to pray even while I rolled my eyes up at the ceiling, feeling completely justified in my emotions and equally sick in the stomach over our argument. There was no instant peace or great revelation, no booming thunder from God telling me what to say, how to say it, or how Margo was feeling. There was Margo, and there was me. And there was a choice. We could hang up and end the friendship (dramatic, but that's us) or we could fight it out until we either hated each other or loved each other to the point of tears. We chose the latter. Through stubbornness, hurt pride, mis-communication and a deeper sense of love, we talked about the issues, apologized for things said, and even learned a few things about each other.

Why is this argument so important to me? People argue with their friends and loved ones every day. We often hurt the ones we love the most, if for no other reason than we feel the most comfortable exposing ourselves to them. So, why is my argument with Margo so different?

Basically, I chalk it all up to transparency. As deep as my friendship with Margo is, we have never crossed the threshold of raw emotion targeted at one another. Past loves, broken friendships, even parents--we've had our fair share of heartache. But it's almost as if Margo and I have never had anything to argue about. Tonight, we were completely open and honest with one another. And as much as it hurt in the moment, we were able to come back to a place of love, and to also fuss through the mess. I think, honestly, the whole experience showed me the meaning of love, and the power it has when two people value one another equally.

Margo told me this: "When encouraging someone, you must also listen to what they are saying." And she is so right. Love is wonderful, but without long-suffering, it is not love. It's merely convenience.

Tonight, I have learned the value of love.
Tonight, we were meant to fight.

xo,

Syd

Building Bridges

So many times I find myself focusing on the things in my life which I need to cut out, or do more of. I need to study my Bible more frequently or in depth; or, I need to save money because one of these days I want to rent a beautiful one bedroom apartment in the city, with wood floors and a tiny space for my glass of wine and my laptop, cornered by a massive mahogany bookshelf which holds all of my old journals and maybe a struggling novel. Perhaps I need to spend more time on Earth than in my dreams--especially when I drive--and maybe I would find a bit more beauty in this quaintly savage life. Or, more recently, I need to stop worrying so much about life's moving currents and be satisfied with the fact that I'm no longer standing still on the bank. 

But in a meager turn of events, I've found myself unrelentingly in hot pursuit of female friends--"girlfriends." I suppose making friends is not so meager as it is common sense, but for someone who has spent much of her young adult life chasing the ideals of being a Gold Star Girlfriend to the opposite sex, scooping up a good female friend along the way hasn't been as much of a priority as it should. Now, however, I find myself feeling more settled in the cushion of life, and instead of nesting, I am seeking a few birdies to start flying with. I'll call it, Building Bridges.

I spent the early part of the afternoon with my budding female friend Rue. As a side note, I've got to admit that I feel completely childish getting so excited about making friends that stick, but we've all got to get our kicks somewhere. Anyway, Rue and I met up at the nail salon to catch up and gossip about ourselves. Surrounded by other pampered women and their toes, I felt completely relaxed. I mean, something so simple as getting ones nails done with a friend released tons of happy feelings, if only for the fact that I haven't really done that before. Of course, I go to the nail salon with the girls in my family, but sitting with Rue, I felt completely... independent. The nail salon might seem a strange place to discover one's sense of independence; nevertheless, I found a bit of mine and I savor it even now. 

After the salon, we met up at Willy's to have some made-to-order burritos and more conversation. This conversation was more in depth. Rue and I often share our struggles and inner turmoils with one another after we've had some lighthearted fun. But the experience is always so refreshing because she pulls scripture and encouragement out of me as easily as pulling floss from its container. And Rue is so easy to talk to, I find myself telling her the truth without fear of judgment or backlash. She makes my complicated thoughts simpler, mostly for the fact that she is an outside party looking in on my bouncy brain. I've never had a friend I could call up and say, "Let's meet up for lunch and shopping," or "Let's schedule a movie day on Friday," and just like that, we're there and having a great time. I don't feel like I owe her my soul if I have to cancel last minute, nor does she apologize if she has to turn down one of my invitations. It's an easy, lighthearted, and refreshing friendship. 

Many women may have quite a few "Rues" in their life, and if they do, I consider them blessed. Because I am happy to have built this bridge to my friend Rue. 

xo,

Syd

Just Write.

I've been trying to exercise that writing muscle in my brain (or fingertips?) all night. Maybe not all night, but at least for the past two hours. I can promise that I have probably been writing a whole bunch of nonsense, but it's better than the nothing that I've been doing so much with.

As of next weekend, I will be a healthy twenty-six-year-old. While most women my age are getting engaged or married, or maybe creating some new life forms, I am having a severe case of mid-twenties crisis. No, really. I swear up and down that I am 26-going-on-30. My best friend is happily married, my sister is getting married next month, and I can count on one finger how many ladies would be in my wedding. Wait, two fingers--I've included myself as the bride. 

Wedding humor aside, I'm not actually anxious about the fluff of eternal love. Turning 26 doesn't tingle my sense because I think I'm  missing out on the beauty of "til death do us part." Actually, I'm biting my nails to the quick because I haven't published a novel yet. Yes, that's my mid-twenties crisis. All these years of journaling, writing poetry, essaying until I can't focus, and not one book has been birthed from these achy little fingers. Really! Life is one  big experience worth having, and I've spent so many years journaling about this or that--but not once have I stopped to write a  book about it...or anything! I'm appalled, honestly, and completely terrified. I have everything I need to write a novella of the stars, yet something is stopping me. What is it? Oh, I don't know--FEAR. Fear of what? Rejection? Hardly. I plan to write under a pseudonym so all the critics can tear me a new one without even knowing who they've scarred. But I am afraid of letting my life slip by with nothing to show for it. I used to say, "Oh, I don't want to be anything grand; I just like to write for myself!" Modesty--shove it. I want to write for everyone! I suppose my biggest stumbling block is where to start?

How does one just...start? What do the greatest of greats do when confronted with the new and challenging task of writing a book? Or, in my case, finding the gusto to put a few thoughts onto the page and let the masterpiece write itself. Maybe my ideas are too lofty, too demanding? I can't say for sure. Really, my biggest issue is material. I don't exactly know what kind of a book I'd like to write. I could honestly sit here all day and blog my eyeballs out, but it wouldn't bring me any closer to completing--or starting--a novel. Perhaps I'll dig into my own juicy past and bring all of my skeletons back to life for the sake of a few good reviews. 

I think, honestly, the best way to begin a novel is just to...write it. Please, someone, get this girl the  Pulitzer.

XO,

Syd 

Death of a Dream

The death of a dream is probably the most painful thing a person can bear.  More painful than looking around and realizing that you're standing in a room surrounded by people, but you are entirely alone. You could liken it to scraping a wound with a dirty cotton swab, but actually, it hurts worse than that. It feels like beating your fist against your chest to get relief from an acid bubble deep inside your gut. And all you can do is hope that you'll forget you even had the dream. All you can do is pray that something else will distract you, and the world will stop spinning in front of your eyes, and that stupid clock will stop ticking inside your head. I hate clocks. They remind me that time is moving and I am not.

The death of my dream has come swiftly. I spent years, years, years nurturing an infant seed and watering the possibilities associated with childish faith. I wished, I hoped, I prayed, I murmured. And though it was not in vain, perhaps it was simply not for me. Perhaps it was never a dream. Perhaps it was merely a thought with eyes which looked straight into me.

My dream was to write for the sky, to build cities with memories detailed by words. My dream was to live in castles, stone spelled out letter by letter, s-t-o-n-e, bound in leather and paper. My dream was to put words on the silver screen. Maybe even learn a thing or two in another classroom designed for dreamers just like me. But life is so technical now, and time is so short. If you weren't born and bred for royalty, you don't enter the King's court. You sit on the sidelines watching the rich ones stumble into their fate. You wish with all your heart that you could change your face, but you can't. You're a dreamer, and that is that. I'm a dreamer. Or else, nothing.

The death of my dream feels endless. Perhaps I dreamt too soon. But all in life is built of dreams, or else, nothing. Perhaps... Nothing.

x,

Syd

She Speaks

It's been exactly 9 months (today) since I've last posted anything about anything. I always worried that I'd get stuck in the rut of, "Well, what's really going to change about my life in nine months, besides my brand of toothpaste?" but actually, quite a bit has changed.


I no longer work for Francesca's Collections. Possibly the only thing I truly miss about that place is the discount I received on the clothes, which, to be honest, wasn't much of a discount to begin with. Wait, wait -- I miss everyone that got fired without any cause, and those of us who quit as fast as we could without breaking down the doors. Francesca's did, however, teach me the leadership skills necessary to take a step back and evaluate a situation for what it really is, so I suppose I have my old-young boss and her modeleqsue minion to thank for that. And I have also developed a strong sense of self-preservation, and therefore no longer stand idle in the face of passive-aggressive female warfare. So, thank you, Francesca's.


I no longer live in Atlanta. This has been the biggest change thus far, probably because I moved out of my parent's nest at the tender age of 23. I honestly thought I'd be snuggled under their wings until I was married, but now, living on my own almost nine-hundred miles away, I feel pretty content with the independence I've acquired. Why, how, and when I moved aren't as necessarily important (to me) because I'm here now, and all I can do is pick up the adventure from this point. Still, my dream is to be living in some tiny, cold apartment in the middle of the fashion district in New York City, scraping together pennies while flipping through the pages of my next novel. The world of a struggling author compels me to look in the mirror of life and ask, "What next?" And speaking of struggling authors...


I published my first book of poetry. "The Ivories." That's right, I said I was going to do it, and I did it. Not on my own, of course, all I actually did was write the book. My publisher did everything else. It's an eBook, not yet sold in stores, and it's available on the top 3 online publishing markets: 

Amazon

Barnes & Noble 

Itunes

Right. So there you have it, my little bit of undiscovered treasure. I am so excited to see the growth of this book, as I literally put my entire life between its pages. Currently, I am scrounging for publishers because my next dream is to have this book on actual bookshelves. Sometimes the feel of a book in your hand makes the words that much more palpable as well. But for now, that book is me, naked, laying on my back, and asking you to tell me what you see. Or perhaps it's you without the noise, only the prose. The Ivories.

Last only because it is always in the corner of my mind, I lost one of the dearest people in my life to cancer. My mother's twin, my Aunt Pam, died in February on the anniversary of the day she received Christ as her Savior back in 1999. I wrote a letter to her the day before she left, and I read it at her funeral without shedding one tear. In fact, I never cried the entire time we knew her health was failing. At least not from my eyes. I cried for months on paper, and sometimes I still cry, but my heart is always pleased to know she is having the time of her life in a world we only dream of. So here's to you, Aunt Pam, always and forever one step ahead of the rest of us. 

I'm on the hunt for a reasonably priced electronic tablet or laptop or new-age type-writer of some sort, so that I can continue writing without as much of a hiatus. I love a good desktop, but you can't take them everywhere with you on your worldly adventures, and I have quite a few worldly adventures on a daily basis. So hopefully I find one, because I forget that my fingers remember my love of writing more than my willpower does. In any case, new things are coming, old things have passed away, and all things are just as they should be.

Til next time,  

Syd

How To?

Maintain a Long Distance Friendship

We’ve all been there before. You meet as perfect strangers and then spend many years nurturing a friendship founded upon similarities and secrets, boyfriends and breakups, giggles and gossip. Your list of inside-jokes is so extensive that half of the time you forget the old ones because you’ve just created fifteen new ones in the span of six seconds. Heredity lied because you both know that you are somehow related. There’s no one else who knows you as well as this person, and you’re certain that no one will ever take her place. But maybe  high school gives way to college, or perhaps college rolls around and ends, and suddenly you realize that the longtime flesh-and-blood support system called your best friend is about to move to Ireland to further her education in the study of sheep. For the first time in a long time, you will both be separated and distance will become as much an enemy as humidity and sunburn. What do you do? Panic? Cry? Hold a goodbye party and toast to the not-so-distant future? Try all three. And then take a deep breath and get ready to fight for your friendship.

Pros v. Cons?

Before you determine that you are going to fight tooth-and-nail to keep your everlasting friendship alive, make sure that you’re not trying to hold onto a best frenemy in disguise. It’s easier to become accustomed to a tart friendship than it is to start a healthy one from scratch. Take a moment to assess your relationship with this person. Are they often condescending?  Full of catty comments? Generally unsupportive of your endeavors?  If so, distance will probably be a blessing in disguise. After all, who wants to waste time nurturing a friendship with Backstabbing Betty or Jealous Jane?

Phone Before Facebook

Nothing is more insulting than finding out your best friend recently got engaged because her newly updated relationship status is dominating your newsfeed. Intimacy has suffered a huge blow from the fantastic world of social media. Whether we’re tweeting about our new puppy or changing our Facebook status every twenty minutes, technology has become our way of being “together alone.” And all of these innovations spell disaster for your long-distance friendship. Personal notes, cards in the mail, and hand-written letters will speak volumes to your far-away friend.  So the next time you miss her, put down the laptop and pick up the phone. 

Mark Your Calendar

Remember how angry you get when your boyfriend/fiancé/husband forgets your birthday? You probably don’t remember it at all because you’d chew concrete before your lover got away with something so appalling. So why should it be any different with the best friend who suddenly moved a million miles away? Remembering important dates lets your pal know that you pay close attention to what’s going on in her life. And I’m not just talking about birthdays. Interviews, meetings, and first dates are all nerve-wracking events that usually run more smoothly with the support of someone dear to you. Sending your far-off friend some well-wishing text messages moments before her big event can make the difference between a failure and a success.

 Celebrate their Success

You’re a recent college graduate still living at home eight months after you ran across the stage to accept your diploma. But the job market is bad. You didn’t take advantage of that internship in France, and now you’re regretting it. Or maybe you just flat-out haven’t had any success finding a job related to your area of expertise. And suddenly, your best friend calls to tell you that she’s just landed her dream job, is moving to New York City tomorrow, and can’t wait to introduce you to her new boyfriend Johnny Depp. How do you respond? Being genuinely happy for your best friend is the crux to your continued relationship with them. It doesn’t matter if you’re experiencing an ice-cream-and-tissues epiphany—put down the spoon and take a moment to celebrate their success. Don’t get so stuck in your own life that you forget to be excited about someone else's. Happiness is contagious, and so is success. The next time you’re down in the dumps about your lack of interviews, be happy for your friend’s successes. You’ll be surprised at how quickly the phone will ring. 

 Don’t Go Green

At some point in our lives, we are all labeled “The New Girl,” but very rarely do we ever keep this title. Your best friend won’t, either. More than likely, she will explore her new city and make new friends who like her for the same reasons you do, and she’ll probably want to tell you all about them. When she does, what will you say? If your initial response includes a slew of nasty Twitter rants about friendship and betrayal, you should probably pinch yourself, because you’re dreaming if you think that anyone will remain friends with you. Don’t become a jealous best friend, moping about while your sister from another mister roams the town with her new clique. Instead, be happy that she no longer has to fear the rejection that comes with meeting new people in new places. Laugh at the funny stories she tells you about her quirky co-workers (because you know they’re funny), and congratulate her when she becomes the highlight of her new social circle. She’s not trying to replace you, so allow her to enjoy her new life and include you in it as best she can.  Above all else, remember that jealousy looks just as ugly on you as it did on your ex-boyfriend.

Lock, Stock, and Bond

Here’s an idea: treat your chum as an investment. A few extra dollars here and there can quickly add up to a weekend reunion and a lifetime of friendship. Setting aside your hard-earned cash to visit your friend will show her that she’s a worthwhile venture and a staple in your life. Likewise, she’ll probably start planning her own trip to see you in return. Bite the bullet, plan to visit her, and then follow through with these plans. You can enter her new world and plant your best friend flag right smack dab in the middle of it. And who knows? You might even hit it off with that cute co-worker she keeps telling you about.

    Grow Up

Ever notice how plants bloom in stages? You start off with a tiny seed, throw it in some dirt, douse it with water, and end up with an intricate flower. It’s a fascinating process, but most notably, the end result looks nothing like the beginning. The same can be applied to you and your bestie. Perhaps her interests will change, and her quirky habits will transform into adult tranquility. Or maybe you’ll spend less time giggling about the past and more time developing your future. Remember that people always change over time, and your relationship with your friend is no exception.  Instead of constantly reminding your buddy about the good ol’ days, allow her to grow as you grow. Re-discover her interests and re-ignite the excitement of new friendship. Teach one another about new passions and suggest new experiences. You’re not the same person you were five years ago, so don’t expect your friend to be either.

Look in the Mirror

There’s a proverb: to have a friend, you must show yourself friendly. Truer words have never been spoken. If you take nothing else from this article, remember that you teach people how to treat you. If you’re too busy to put the time and effort into a relationship to make it last, then you’ll never have lasting relationships. One good friend is worth a lifetime of bad ones, so take the time to show your best friend that she’s worth the effort it takes to maintain your friendship. It’s not always easy to pause your hectic day just to say a few words of kindness to your absent companion, but it makes all the difference. And above all else: be the friend you want to have. It really is that simple.