With a little help from my friends

I tend to think of myself as something more than my family does. I am more than a large, homely, eccentric woman.

I also tend to think of myself as a fairly intelligent, very lucky human being, open to all sorts of possibilities.

I do realize that some of the people I call friends are so much more than any of this. They are teachers, professors, chaplains, artistic souls who do better than most when it comes to making this world a better place. These people actually do what many people only talk about in vague idealistic ways.

With a little help from my friends I am learning more about myself as well.

If their prolonged interest in me means anything, and since most things in their lives do mean something, it must, then I must have some traits that are valuable, worthwhile, or important enough to maintain our friendship over the years.

That is a comforting thought in the chaos of a mind that is constantly barraged by thoughts, ideas, feelings, doubt and discomfort.