Neurogenesis (Advent Day 23)

It is just shy of nineteen years since I graduated from high school. I've travelled, moved away, moved home, moved away again ... and today I ran into a friend from elementary school while I was shopping in Costco.
Nineteen years later, two thousand kilometres away, and a lifetime in between.
I stopped in my tracks.

I had taken the kids and my nieces up to the wave pool, and just ran into Costco for a few things before heading home. Kachi and Pascal had insisted on coming in with me, so I had them both in the cart, wrangling my way through a tangle of Christmas-Eve-Eve shoppers, and we finally made it to the line.  And there, right in front of me, was a friend I had stood next to in class photos for years.  She was one of those friends that I'd always wished I knew better.  We had played together at recess, worked on occasional projects together, and I'd always been more than a bit intimidated by her intelligence.  She was smart - gifted - and always carried herself with a gentle self-assurance.

After saying goodbye to my old friend, I felt a sense of loss, and a fair amount of awkwardness. Was it weird that I hugged her? Should I have just slipped by and pretended I didn't see her? And I definitely talked too much. Gak!  Normally I would have just stuffed the feelings away, but I was listening to a podcast this morning that talks about healing in the brain - and how, when we're able to pause and think about how we're feeling, what we're feeling, our brain creates new neurons. This is called neurogenesis. It isn't a revival of dead cells; it's the creation of new cells in neural pathways that were dead.  Yes: resurrection (not resuscitation). And yes, we can actually cause them to be born by pausing. Stopping. Paying attention: how am I feeling, what is causing this?

So I tucked my feelings into a shelf to think about later, and when I found a few moments, pulled them back out to look at more closely.
I think I was feeling weird because part of me wishes we had been better friends ... and my insecurities jumped up, telling me I wasn't a desirable friend, she wouldn't have wanted me for a friend. And that could be true. I don't really know who I was back then.  Was I awkward? Bossy? Quiet? Loud? Kind? Cruel? I don't know.  (I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I don't know - I'm still trying to figure out who I am, even now.  I can be all of those things in the span of a few minutes.)


But I felt a lot better for having pulled my feelings out and looked at them. And someone else I've been reading a lot about lately also did that kind of thing: When the Shepherds came and worshiped Jesus, they told everyone what the angels had said. And Mary - Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart (Luke 2:19).  Right there at his birth, there's a whisper of his resurrection - that treasuring, that pondering, it causes new life to spring up.

In the busyness and bustle, I wish you a Christmas that points your heart forward, dear friends - with new life, new hope, and friendships new and old around you.
xo.