I’ve got magic in my life.  Plenty of it.  So much magic that it boggles my mind. 

This magic goes by many names, takes many forms.  It is intelligent, vital, beautiful, vibrant, mystical, articulate, affectionate, empathetic, respectful, divine.   My magic challenges me to be better, do better, live better, think more, live more, be more.  It is ethereal and solid, introspective and gregarious, soft and strong.  It is goofy and strange and silly and geeky and weird.  It is classic and mysterious and brilliant and refined and oh-so-fierce.  

I wonder sometimes, how did I get so lucky?  How on earth did I manifest this community of magical women who surround me at all times - regardless of whether I am physically in their presence or miles and miles away.  Talk about being blessed. 

I can visualize this community as concentric rings of people, all somehow linked by human connection, all spinning and swirling around, changing position as life dictates but all somehow always connected to me, and to each other. 

In this little vision of mine, the closest to me are the ones I call my inner circle.  They stand around me, no matter what, arms linked, bodies close - surrounding me with a field of energy and love that I sense at all times.   I couldn’t ever hope to put into words what those ladies mean to me.  I don’t even know why I am bothering to try – except that I must. 

These are my closest friends, my protectors, my guides, holders of my secrets, my soft place to fall.  Mani, Marybeth, Leigh, Maisha, Kate, Brooke.  The girls on my speed dial (and the reasons I went $100 over on cell phone minutes last month).  The people who require true honesty of me, and who I can be vulnerable with.  These girls are the front lines – the first ones I go to when something big is going down.  The ones I will let see me cry, the ones who’ve always got my back.  

They wrap me tight in their arms and their words when I need it, but they also understand the necessity of sometimes simply holding space so that I can learn to hold myself.   They know how to protect the space around me so that I have room to breath.  They recognize that being alone is just as important to friendship as being together.  These girls ask the tough questions, they don’t let me cop out, the depths of their belief in me helps me understand that I am enough.

These ladies are my inspiration.  They are some the most profound individuals I have ever met.  They are writers and thinkers and activists.  They sprinkle fairy dust over everything they touch.  They are both myth and reality.  They get sad, they get angry; they giggle for hours and when the music comes on – let me tell you, these girls can shake.it.down.  They have the biggest hearts, the most complex minds and the most magnificent spirits.  They are my heart and soul and breath.  I simply cannot imagine life without them.

It’s not about how long I’ve known them, how long they’ve been close to me, or even how often I see them or speak to them  (Kate, for instance, I’ve met in person only three times, and it couldn’t be less important).  My inner circle is about a soul connection – and those happen in a fraction of an instant of time, and the energetic connection makes distance or logistics irrelevant.   And when life gets heavy and I wonder if I can bear much more, it is their faces that swirl into the mists of my consciousness to remind me that I am never truly alone.  

If they were all I had, it would be more than enough.

But they are not all I have; my blessings continue outside of that inner circle to include some of the most amazing women I could have ever imagined knowing: my Tribe.  We came together in the most modern of ways (through an AP yahoo group if you’d believe it) but evolved to become a social support system so amazing that I never worry about being taken care of, because Tribe takes care of it’s own. 

These chicks are smart – so smart they blow my mind.  They are wickedly funny.   They are devoted and accomplished and inspirational.  They accept me as I am, but yet still make me want to require more of myself.   They are artists and writers, hip rockin’ mamas and ancient wise women, dreamers and doers.   They are visionaries, and activists and some of the only people I’ve encountered in my life who truly believe they have the power to create real change – and they do it (check out the Arizona Breastfeeding Legislation for proof).

There’s a book club, craft days, cookie swaps, clothing trades, the annual tamale day at Michelle’s and all the other cliché moms’ group things – but that’s only the very beginning.  We wouldn’t be Tribe without Karen’s fishnets and tiara, Nancy’s mythical leather pants, evil email hijacking, Christina’s need for Ajax and the occasional margarita playgroup. 

There was a full thanksgiving dinner prepared for a family spending holidays in the hospital with a really sick kid, cleaning days for overwhelmed mamas with dirty houses, hundreds of meals cooked and delivered to new mamas, sick mamas and just plain stressed mamas, constant borrowing and trading and lending and sharing (Heather, one day I swear I’ll get that heart monitor back to you).  We are loud, and we are bold, and the conversation flies a million miles a minute.  There are so many inside jokes that I always feel bad for newcomers, who must think that they’ve entered some sort of bizarre secret society.  And we laugh…oh, how we laugh.  Tribe is a force to be reckoned with, no doubt about it.

And I know that, if I ever needed for anything that these ladies could provide, I would have it in a heartbeat.  End of story

And you know what – there’s more. 

….continued tomorrow!