The Spa-Ha Moment

Sometimes the connection is immediate; other times, it takes a while. As I waited -- and waited -- this morning for my Boingo wifi finder to do its thing, I couldn't help but think how life imitates technology. Or maybe it's the other way around.

Last night the spa had grown quiet. The Groupon guests with the one-night "cheap seats" (six to a bathroom -- ew!) had departed, and we were down to a cozy group of nine. We had all crossed each others paths over the course of the weekend -- at meals, at exercise classes, at the popcorn bowl where we gathered in the evening acting as if we hadn't been fed in months. But, like my wifi connection, we were elusive. To each other, and maybe even to ourselves.

Inevitably, Boingo, Presto, a network is found, the browser is launched. And so it was last night, as we nine holdouts arrived at that "aha moment," the moment when we became much more to each other than the three sisters, the work colleagues, the faithful friends with whom we love to escape every now and again. With one of the guests leading us, we journeyed together through a "women's writing workshop," penning brief versions of our stories and sharing them. Boingo, Presto. It suddenly became clear to all of us why we had come.

Our stories were different, our stories were very much the same. We are, all of us, at different stages of life, facing different challenges. We are, all of us, in pain but determined, and our laughter, in spite of it all, is genuine. We might forget each others names, but we will always remember each others stories.

We sat for awhile in companionable silence, lost in our own thoughts. We listened to the sounds of a summer evening in the middle of nowhere: the chirping crickets, the whispering breeze, the patter of rain on the roof. Okay, it wasn't really rain; it was an upstairs toilet, but the idea of summer rain is just so damn romantic.

Yep, sometimes the connection is immediate; other times it takes a while. But it's always out there. You just have to be patient.