I am very lucky to have more than a few friends who live very close by. Like, over-my-backyard-fence close. Five-minute-walk close.
The other morning I was outside drinking coffee when one of these nearby friends replied to my text from the night before, asking about times I might see her before she left for the summer.
“Here, walking the dog at 8:30.”
“I’ll be over in 5.”
I slid my feet into the shoes by the back door, coffee cup in hand, wearing nighttime clothes that could (maybe?) pass for daytime clothes. And off I went—down the hill of my neighborhood, across a gnarly traffic intersection, up the street into her neighborhood, and up the stairs of her front porch.
“Did you walk over with your coffee, and are you in your pajamas?”
“Yes… and maybe?”
We spent the next hour on her porch doing what we might have done separately—or some version of together by text, phone, or FaceTime. Coffee drained, heart and soul cup spilling over.
It occurred to me that some things—often the things we say we most want—really are right here. It doesn’t take much more than a few steps, and a willingness to walk toward what matters.
Love, Jill