Skip to main content

circles

For the last few weeks in class I have been teaching about circles.
No, I don't teach math.....but physics.....which I guess is close enough.
We have spent the last few weeks on centripetal force and torque and the likes. My head has been spinning on pretty much a million other subjects.

Today, I met my friend Beth at Panera.
And we ordered coffee and we talked about friendships and careers and babies and fiber and loss and secrets and sex and coffee and music and friendships and careers and babies and fasting and loss and friendships and futures and husbands and sisters and hope and friendships and jesus and facebook and blogs and bagels and friendships....
and well i think you get the idea.
we jumped in and out of topics and back in again seamlessly.
Suddenly I looked down and it was two and half hours later and we had made lots of loops.

And there is no magic formula for good conversation but I am pretty sure it involves coffee and plenty of circles.

Comments

Beth (and Eric) said…
That is AWESOME! So true. Good stuff! Like I said, time flies when you're talking to a good friend! Speaking of circles, I'm glad that our lives have circled back around to each other. :) I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I didn't talk your ear off too much! I had a blast.

And you know what is even better? That you probably wrote this blog on your phone because your computer is broken. How much does that mean to me?! Lots!
michelle said…
ok. have to confess that i wrote it on shaun's work computer and not my phone. it would have had way more typos w/ predict a text.
but....i so would have. typos and all.
Beth (and Eric) said…
That's okay! I still love it. Oh yeah, and the other thing you need besides circles? Honesty! :)
Corinne said…
Talking in circles with friends and coffee is possibly the best therapy ever :)

Popular posts from this blog

preachers and parades.

Months ago, I sat in a pew and tried to not think about the fact that you could count on one hand the number of white congregants in the room.
And I was one of them.
 I did not want to draw attention to myself, but despite the fact that I have been to church most Sundays of my life, I had no idea what to do. When to sit, stand, pray or the lyrics to any of the songs. The rules here seemed so different than my own church, just a few miles away. Filled with people who mostly looked like me.
 A few elderly African American women were seated next to me and were kind enough to attempt to make me feel welcome and tell me what to do. At some point Eunice, in a bright purple dress, slid her arthritic hand on top of mine, squeezed and tugged me to the front to pray.
 I let her lead me, because I didn’t how else to respond, and because she seemed so genuinely glad that I was there, singing off key next to her.

 It was not lost on me, that my slight discomfort was one of choice and ended just …

The annual REAL Christmas letter

One of my favorite traditions for a decade has been to sit down and try to write a REAL Christmas letter.  Not just the highlights, but a few honest moments as well. It started as a joke with one of my friends, thinking how refreshing it be for people to share more than just their perfect lives that we are used to seeing on Facebook and Instagram. It would be way more truthful and a whole lot more entertaining. Last new year, I had a friend ask me to come up with a word for 2018. I joked that my word was just going to be “done”. I was partly kidding, partly serious. The year ahead seemed daunting rather than full of promise and resolutions.  I had so many things to finish in the upcoming year that I needed to be “done” with: my degree, my job and my thirties. A few weeks later, my friend showed up with one of those string bracelets with the metal word “done” hammered in the middle. I wore it often, especially in those home stretches. Not taking it off until I had my last chapter writte…

game day

“But I don’t want to go to soccer, I’m tired”
says the boy who has been running circles around the living room for the last hour.

“No, I don’t want to wear my jersey”
says the same boy that slept in his uniform just last week.

And so I do what any good mom would do, which is start bribing my kid.
I promise him ring pops or pizza or new toys for having a good attitude, listening to his coach and trying his best.
But those things are not quite enough to make him eagerly lace up his cleats.

Owen actually loves soccer practice.
And is one of the best dribblers on the teams.
And he loves kicking the ball around the living room and in the front yard.
But games days are hell.
Instead of being a proud momma on the sideline snapping pictures
I am usually trying not to cry.
Because Owen has realized that he isn’t really good at it.
That the other kids are bigger and faster and score more goals.

And today his team won. And they haven’t won many games.
And they cheered and lined up eagerly for patches and sna…