a few weeks ago i went to california. and i want to talk about it. i've been wanting to talk about it. but, you see, i don't really know where to start. not really. i mean, how to sum up nine days so heavy and yet simultaneously so full of sweetness? how to articulate the goodness of all that prying and poking and painful pulling back of the layers? i don't really know how. not really.

i boarded that return flight with my back to california, feeling very aware of the richness of great friends. of these three ladies in particular. But also, also i was taking with me the heaviness. it stuck to the bottom of my shoes and made its way into the pockets of my backpack.

this weightiness.

it is the complicated parts of my personal life and the ugly pieces of my character - dragged out into the sunlight where they cannot be ignored. it is the rubble that only can be reached and unloaded by dear, brave friends.

it is also the seriousness of entering into a loved one's pain. life is messy. can be filled with darkness, loss and entirely absent of easy answers. several times that week i was rendered helpless, unable to provide a neat or tidy or even possible solution to precious friends. i could not fix things. or erase the pain. i couldn't take back the months of her suffering, or remedy the broken and piercing relationship. and with another, i didn't have a solution for what defines "home" and how to decide where to make it. and even another one still, i couldn't heal the damage of a chaotic upbringing, or ease the turmoil of the existential search. i was made powerless in the face of such enormities of this life.

and so all i did, all i could do, was simply sit and be present with these friends. enter into their loss or pain or confusion with them. listening, questioning, sharing tears and being silent. i felt it. i sat in it. and i tried my best not to be afraid to hold it all with them. to take what i could and hold it for them.

and to be honest, all of this felt entirely insufficient. lacking and inadequate. but really, i think at times it is the best we have to offer. this presence. all we have to offer. and i hope, i just hope that it was enough.