Lips, Hair, and Arms

Lips, Hair, Arms

I was hiking in Sedona during a solo retreat.

I came to a vista. Ahead of me were three women.

One was petite with the brightest red lipstick imaginable - simply perfect for hiking.

One had enviable biceps and looked like she knew how to use them.

One had flowing grey hair that had its own air of confidence.

?“Lips,” “Arms,” and “Hair” stopped and chatted.

Lips immediately told me that she was Arm's best friend from childhood, and Hair said she was Arm's closest friend from work. Lips and Hair had never met until today.

As we spoke, I noticed that Hair stood apart from the other two as they finished each other's sentences.

I noticed that Arms kept looking back and forth between the two, a little worried.

I noticed that Lips did most of the talking.

I asked if they wanted a photo together. Declined. We parted ways. ?

An hour later, I was surprised to come across them again. I was trail running (see previous post about epileptic donkeys).

?Arms chortled nervously. Hair (work friend) said they had gotten "WAYYYY" off track and then glanced (eyerolled) over to Lips (childhood friend), who held her phone away from her as if it were a stinky doo dee.

?Lips said – “I think my damn phone must have lost navigation signal.”

Hair, through the subtle dialogue of raised eyebrows, tried to catch Arm’s attention.

Arms appeared as if she were watching a particularly tense tennis match.

Hair suddenly asked, "Are you trail running? I trail run all the time, like 2-3 times a week. I love it. I have been doing it for years. I totally love it. I do it all the time.”

The words had come tumbling out of her mouth like a waterfall after a heavy rain. Her eyes revealed that she would have clamped her hand over her mouth mid-sentence, but it was too late, and her hand dangled at her side, useless.

These three women filled my thoughts for the rest of the run.

I was still thinking about their dynamics and the funny things I observed as I pulled into the AirBnB.

Then it hit me.

Oh. My. Word.

They are me.

I am them.

I am Arms – Pulsing the energy of the room constantly to make sure everyone is ok.

I am Lips – Naked insecurity overplaying my connection to someone because I am worried about not belonging.

I am Hair -?Oh God, am I Hair. ?Overcompensating for fear of being seen as less than I am. My ego taking up residence in my mouth and spouting off stupid, unretractable self-congratulatory comments. Mix that with feelings of smallness because my position with a friend is in fake jeopardy, and all hell breaks loose.

?The experience with these women has stayed.

It has caused me to better see myself in all women, and I hope it has resulted in more compassion and love in place of scoffs and judgment.

Lips, Hair, and Arms – Wherever you are, I applaud you for getting through that hike, navigating the emotions of complicated relationships, and the damn business of being an emotionally sensitive woman—much love.