Pat Taub
GUEST POST by BARBARA MUDD
It was full darkness outside. The spring air was perfect. I was lying face down on the edge of a dock with eight other middle-aged and senior-aged women doing the same thing. We were hanging over the dock with water below us.
At the exact same time, we all put our hands into the cold water and began swirling them around. The water was magic. There were sparkles everywhere coming from bioluminescent organisms. Our laughter and the sparkles mixed together to give a lightness to the night that provided relief from any heaviness that weighed on our hearts.
Next, we laid on the dock looking straight up into the clear night sky. Constellations were called out and named by several of the women. More magic. We eventually made our way back into the house where we were staying for the weekend.
There we all sat in the blue living room in what was once a lobster house, now remodeled into a fabulous home on the coast of Friendship, Maine: a name that seemed serendipitous for this group of women who connected decades ago when a parenting group was formed.
Friendship, Maine at night (Roth Galleries)
The night passes quickly when a group of women gather and the conversation weaves in and out in so many ways that you have to stay awake if you don’t want to miss anything. And so, it was on this night when the weaving created an unanticipated tapestry. The giggles were many and conversations were flying in all sorts of directions and ultimately landed on our feelings about ourselves.
That was not a comfortable topic for me as I had always struggled to feel comfortable in my own skin and to feel good enough about myself. I was not alone in feeling this way.
Shortly into this discussion, Kate, who had formed the group all those years ago, announced that she would go around to each and every one of us and tell us our strengths. And she did, one by one. She was very specific and as the dialogue between her and the other person would emerge, others would chime in as well. When Kate finished, I decided to do the same for her and we all joined in.
A women’s friendship group similar to the author’s
We weren’t in our pj’s at this pajama party of sorts. It was late and we were tired in the best possible way when one of the women quietly slipped off her bra by pulling it through her sleeve and then throwing it in the middle of the room.
Those of us who were not aware of this trick were enthralled and received a lesson. Before we knew it, there was a pile of bras on the floor. Oh, how I love human diversity. These bras were all sizes and colors. One was a tiny triangle, another one fit on a head like a hat. There were more giggles.
There is a vulnerability that eases the more negative assumptions we make about ourselves when a group of women can swirl their minds together and seek out the sparkle in each other that we don’t often see in ourselves.
What was underneath came out and off so easily and naturally as we helped to make each other feel comfortable in her own skin.
I’ve been back to Friendship, Maine many times with these women but never again has there been a night like this one …. the night when we witnessed and gave voice to each other’s struggles and grace, the night when the room felt like a sea of magic … the night of the bras.
