Getting tarred with the same brush

Today, I had an epiphany, of sorts.  It's been coming on awhile, really, this slow arrival of consciousness.  When I was young, and Gram was worried about with whom I was spending my time, she would say "Carrie Anne, don't get tarred with the same brush".  Let me explain.  Back in the days of tarring and feathering, if you were standing too close to the offender, you, too, would end up with tar and feathers on you. 

Lately, I've been reflecting very much on the amazing people in my life.  I wonder how I got so lucky, to be surrounded by these giving, smart, gracious souls.  I think about the breadth of time that these friendships cover, some since I was just five, some a few weeks or months new.  Each one has a generosity of spirit, a flair for life, a respect for living things, and a sense of humour.  These are the people who I can laugh with, and cry with, the people whose fear I can feel, and whose hurt I would take away in an instant if I had the power.  They are the moments that make up this crazy wonderful life that I'm living.  And today, when I was wondering how I got so lucky, it dawned on me that they just might feel lucky to have me, too.  And so, once again, Gram was right.  This is my tribe. 

(courtesy of Google images, The Hives)