I had the fortune this past weekend of being at a rather splendid event, two actually.
The first was the incredibly joyous wedding of a dear old friend who is taking a great leap into a new chapter of her life. All of us make enormous changes when we marry, of course, but this shift was a global, life-style, instant-parenting, career-moving right hand turn. Everything was a tough choice except the guy. He is perfect and when faced with that, she took him and everything he came with in a great vertiginous whirlwind. It was raucous and dizzying and breathtaking.
The second splendid event was a quieter one. The wedding was in a city where I also have an unusual friend. Not that she is unusual, but rather it’s the friendship that is. Esti and I have only met face to face twice in a decade and really rarely even email, but despite the paucity of our interactions, I am seriously smitten with this lady. She’s fearless, funny, talented and enormously kind. What a pleasure then to be able to snag a few delicious hours tucked into a coffee shop catching up and hooting and cackling at our lives.
I first met Esti when I was living in San Francisco and trying to forge a new path for myself. I wasn’t sure where to live, how to work and really, who I wanted to be. I don’t think I’d ever imagined I’d be where I am now, wife, mother, and business owner. Sitting with her brought back to me the long trail I’d traveled between now and the last time I saw her, nearly ten years before. You expect change to happen all at once, or I did. I imagined an epiphany and then a sea change and presto- new life. Instead, as it has always been, small turns until one day you wake up and, well, you’ve woken up. At what felt like the darkest hour, I bought myself a birthday present, expensive for what I could afford. It was a pendant by Jeanine Payer, who makes these exquisite pieces inscribed with tiny sayings. Mine said- ‘one does not discover new lands without consenting to leave sight of the shore’. I wore is constantly and it became my mantra as I bobbed along stormy seas. Until one day I wasn’t anymore. Without noticing, I had arrived on my new shore by moving the tiniest bit every day.
So two splendids- a joyous celebration of a life suddenly and alchemically altered and a savory revisiting of a life slowly and almost imperceptibly blossoming.