The world's tiniest leaf, a meltdown, and a four-generation supper club

I lost a favorite earring this week, a little hoop, and while I was searching for it, I saw the tiniest, most exquisite golden leaf on the floor of my closet. It made me pause, wondering how many perfect things I’ve missed along the way, rushing to “get there.”

I had a horrible, no-good, terrible, very bad Monday when, after a sleepless night, I took my long list of worries and heartaches to work with me. The first call came in, and my colleague and friend greeted me in the normal way: “Hey! How’s it going?”

I could either choke myself on the words that would out my jagged feelings, or I could try to answer neutrally, risking some feral expression of the emotions commandeering my chest.

I went for the whispered truth. “Um, not so great today. Today is a hard day. I’m not so good.”

Mercifully, we were not on Zoom, because then followed a truly epic version of the ugly cry. My friend sat on the other end of the line, doing nothing, her compassion coming through like we were hard-wired. “So,” she said, after listening for a long time, “you’re human. I guess I’m just surprised because I’ve never seen this side of you. I’m glad you told me.”

I never meant to appear superhuman. I’m certainly not. I have a lot of energy and a strong will and when things get scary, I brandish them in an effort to avoid feeling like a tiny leaf of a human. But, of course, I am. We all are.

The next evening, after a better night’s sleep, I was having dinner with my favorite supper club. There are four of us, men and women, ranging in age from our 50s to our 90s. We all love to eat and share stories. There is no agenda. Struck by my friend’s kindness the day before, I tried to be mindful and keep going with honest answers when they asked. (They’re really good friends, so they always ask.) It was risky to answer honestly. We were in a restaurant and an ugly cry didn’t seem appropriate. But they persisted with their caring questions, punctuated just perfectly with the most amazing stories (one of them actually knew Frank Sinatra. They were friends.). So, little by little, as my admissions were met with unwaveringly kind faces, the weight in my chest became lighter, each answer a heavy stone dislodged.

It made me think of the leaf. How many I haven’t seen. How much beauty was always right there, and I was too afraid or hurried or worried to pause and attend to it with simple and deserved reverence.

With love and grace,

Sara