Long Division

My best friend’s 11 year old daughter announced at dinner the other night that she simply didn’t get the concept of long division… “What’s the point of long division when you can do short division?” she sensibly asked. I just about knocked over my wine glass in furious agreement with her “I know – that’s so true!!” I said, thinking this would make a good motto for my life.

I am notoriously impatient – a character flaw which at times threatens to become fatal. I blame it on a deadline driven career - hurry, hurry, race, race, pace, pace – but it’s the story of my life. In the past few days I’ve been reminded(again), though, of the benefits of letting time stop and sucking in fresh air...

I’ve just spent three days ‘chilling’ in the Queensland resort town of Noosa with the woman who’s been my best friend for 23 years. We never got to do the end of school party-travel thing…we already had the weight of the world on our shoulders at eighteen thanks to personal tragedy and responsibility beyond our years. But this past weekend we paused and laughed and indulged and took stock and counselled one another and remembered why we’re still stuck together after all these years.

In many ways we couldn’t be more different – I’m a passionate, outspoken career-driven political animal with social activism embedded in my pores. She’s a reserved, sensitive, nurturing physiotherapist who now works full time as a mother of four and she’s not much interested in politics or current affairs. We’ve drifted apart for periods over the years and spent nearly a decade on separate continents. But what binds us together is unbreakable – an historic connection borne of times of trial and a sisterly love that cares without variation, with the power to revive friendship, bridging space and time in an instant. And it’s a friendship that thrives on laughter as well as shared tears.

We knew this trip would be a good one as soon as the Virgin air hostess opened her mouth on the flight out of Sydney. “Your devastatingly handsome pilot and the equally dashing steward join me in welcoming you on board this flight to Maroochydore” she quipped, deadpan. We giggled while most of the other passengers looked straight ahead. “You’ll find life-jackets in this season’s colours under your seat…” More laughter from our row. “And I must warn you that there is strictly no smoking on this flight. The toilets are equipped with smoke detectors and security guards”. The woman was on fire and she thoroughly deserved the applause she got from us.

Isn’t it amazing how humour can cut through the tension? It’s so stressful just boarding a flight to anywhere these days you often feel like assaulting, rather than thanking, the flight attendants when you disembark at your destination. I mean, in this post-September 11th world, there are actually signs at some airports warning passengers that “airline travel is not a laughing matter.” But on this flight, laughter was delightfully unavoidable.

The long taxi ride from the ‘Sunshine Coast’ airport to Noosa was also amusing. The father and daughter taxi-driving duo were thoroughly entertaining - she was a law student and he was a ‘kite-surfing addict’. The conversation was quick and engaging. He talked with such passion about kite-surfing (a sport which involves you being catapulted above the waves at the whim of the wind) he almost convinced me to give it a try. And I couldn’t suppress my laughter when he said “Oh yeah, it’s so addictive it breaks up marriages. People hear the wind in the trees and they can’t stop themselves.” Really? I’ve heard drug-addiction, gambling and infidelity cited as causes of marriage collapse but never ‘kite-surfing’. Perhaps I’d better give it a miss after all...

By the time we arrived at our hotel, I already felt lighter of heart and clearer of head. Further relief came in the form of a long lunch in an open air restaurant, where wild bush turkeys blended in with the décor and my friend listened while I poured out my heart and blinked back tears in between gulps of wine. Catharsis. “God, I needed this!” I said repeatedly.

After that conversation time slowed and we reminisced and projected into the future and celebrated our friendship…increasingly carefree. One hour blended into another. We wandered along the Noosa beach boardwalk and sat and sighed and laughed and just watched the waves pound the beach, sucking in all the beauty with every breath.

When we returned to the beach for dinner that night there was a sand castle built to an exacting plan - lit by tea lights, it mesmerised passers by. We came back the next night, after a day of indulgent spa pampering and a great bottle of red, threw off our shoes and lay on the beach in our fancy gear. We laughed like school girls, taking photos of each other…daring the tide to reach us and not giving a damn what anyone thought.

It’s times like these we rarely find time to value. But it’s these times – time standing still times – that keep us going when the going gets too crazy. We’re going to make this an annual pilgrimage to celebrate life and our friendship and to help us remember how to laugh out loud.

Meantime, I’m going to try to remember how to do long division and force myself to take the scenic route more often. Life is short and it threatens to race you to the finish line which is why, sometimes, you just need to push the pause button.