Tag Archives: Relationships

Treehugger

In the midst of, or perhaps to stave off, sudden emotional turmoil, I did what I often do to gather, collect, and find myself: I headed out into nature.

I had just wrapped my arms around a tree when a phone call came, one I had been expecting. I answered, telling the caller which bridge I’d just crossed and added that I was currently hugging a tree.

“He’s sleeping and will probably not hug you back,” came the reply.

“That’s okay,” I said. I love that trees are living creatures with rhythms.

Berkeley, California – June 2018

We set a meeting time and location and the call ended. I gave the tree one more gentle touch and walked away.

The next time out in nature that day, I was calmer, quieter in body though not quite in mind. We walked for hours and, among the sleeping trees, I began to feel better.

It was not lost on me that the fact that I’d been out hugging trees was treated as the most normal thing to do. The recognition warmed my heart and settled my mind, and by the time the walk ended, I was home.

Sequoia National Park, California – July 2023

How to Ask a Beautiful Question

I recently heard the question, Would you like someone to sit with you, or would you like to be alone? The question was asked in the context of one person seeing another doing just that, sitting alone, in a setting where that could be perfectly appropriate or desperately lonely. It’s a question I ask my students when their table partner is absent, whether they are happy where they are, whether they would like someone to sit with them, whether they would like to move seats.

Would you like someone to sit with you, or would you like to be alone? suggests that the individual has been seen as part of something rather than a spectator, that an introduction to a group will be there when the individual is ready. It suggests that being alone is a choice rather than a condition and that being alone is not the same as being lonely. And it suggests that there are times for both aloneness and togetherness without placing a value judgement on the choice.

I found this question beautiful in its simplicity. Beautiful in its openness and honesty. Beautiful in the way that it required the individual to do nothing but answer, while the person asking the question had done so making a promise to be there when the fitting answer was given.

Such a question opens the door not only for dialogue, but also for recognition, perhaps of a kindred spirit or of a searching soul. A beautiful question is one with which we can all imagine ourselves confronted or asking, a sign of shared humanity.

I am reminded of the people I know at the climbing hall, groups forming based on casual questions about who is coming that day, who is looking for a partner, who is there for a solo training session. I have both extended and accepted the standing offer to climb with another group when no one from one’s regular group is available. I am reminded of my colleagues who are clearly searching for something, and to whom I have recently asked a form of this question.

Would you like someone to sit with you, or would you like to be alone?

It could only be a good thing, a kind thing, the right thing, to ask. To answer honestly is to trust. So are connections built, relationships formed. To ask and answer is to recognize, and with recognition comes being, in a particular time and particular place.

Would you like someone to sit with you, or would you like to be alone?

Three Right Things

Many, many years ago, the father of a dear friend told me, “You know, Becca, you need to make sure it’s the right person in the right place at the right time.” I don’t remember the context, but I remember being in the kitchen at the family’s home, one of those wonderful places that never seems to change, no matter how many years go by. I’ve forgotten everything else about that moment, but I’ve always held onto those words.

That’s what was in my mind when I received a call full of uncertainty and doubt. And after listening and affirming what I’d heard, that’s what informed my response. The voice on the other end remained doubtful and uncertain but sounded a little less torn, a little less fraught.

After hanging up, I thought about what I’d felt in my body while we talked; you’d told me what you were feeling in yours. The equanimity I had experienced and continued to experience assured me that I’d given the most honest answer I could, and I believe you heard that.

I hope your mind quieted and that you slept softly. To look around, consider whether the circumstances are right, and make a choice can be scary – and that’s how we know it’s important.