Friendships

 

December 7, 2020

 Greetings from one, indeed,

 Two things before I take you down this path.  First, I love my friend.  Second, I don’t have the answers.

 Some years ago, a friend of mine shared a challenge in his life.  He said as he got older it was harder to make close friends, and it troubled him.  He went on to describe the significant effort he extended to resolve this.  This is an outgoing, interesting man, well-travelled, empathetic, intelligent.  If I didn’t already know him, I would want to know him.  It was heartbreaking to hear that someone so friendly, so friend-worthy, would even have to think about how to make friends.

 In a strange coincidence, if you want to call it that, a couple days later I was at a dinner with about sixty people, segregated into several tables.  As I visited around, I heard the same exact thought come up from two other people: they struggled to find close friendships.

 In all of these conversations, and in several more since, we floated possible obstacles, which if you are like any of us you may experience.  Living in metropolitan areas, living in rural areas, the loss of the front porch, the internet, the dilution of relationships on social media, changing family dynamics, and the natural evolutions of our lives that often narrows our world.  I have to admit that it never occurred to me that this was an issue for anyone, and I discovered it was far more pervasive than I would have guessed.

 In the years that passed I have read a great deal on this subject and found books and essays and TED talks and interviews with experts, and they all have some version of the strategies and mechanics of making friends, beginning with our own willingness.  Proximity, consistency, opportunity, trust and vulnerability, rapport, time.   

 If you came this far hoping that there might be a ‘How to Make Friends’ checklist, I apologize, and refer you to the second caveat at the beginning.  There are far better resources on the subject than what I could suggest from my modest intellect.  Instead, I’ll offer what occurred to me as I thought of the friends who have come and gone in my life, and those that are yet to come. 

 The filter we use for defining friends is often created by the friends we already have.  Childhood friends were formed in an environment never to be repeated.  College friends another. Parenting friends another.  I have running friends, people I became friends with through my profession, through service work, friends I made at church.  Each of these have come to me for different reasons, and I to them.  While there are elements in common, each evolved in their own way, in their own time.  When we set expectations for the friends we have not met, this can be a challenging history to live up to. 

 I will also say that many friendships existed for a while, and while I still count these people as friends, they have faded, each for their own circumstances.   For the most part, there is no tragedy in this, it is simply the evolution of my life.  People come to us for a page, or a chapter.  Some come for the whole book, and these are our main characters.  But all play a part in the arc of the story.

 It’s helpful if you acknowledge that it is not just your story, but the story your friends are writing as well.  Make a note of this for later.

 When I started writing this morning, I thought of a dozen people who are influential friends, and one of them was someone I knew for two days.  Everyone has had some version of this experience.  What does it say about what friendships are?  We want to be known, to be significant, to remembered.  We want to know others and be of value to them.  We may not set out to do this, but we want to see who we are based on how our friends see us.  These experiences can last for an hour or for decades.

 I think we all seek similar things in friendships.  Someone to trust, to confide in, a sense of intimacy, a kinship.  We also want to be that for others because it feeds our soul to be that person.  Without that bond there is a sort of loneliness that seeps in.

  What people have told me is that they feel a loss because they cannot recreate friendships they experienced in the past.  I understand that better now.  I will admit I am sentimental about the friendships I earned in other times, and the truth is it can limit how I feel about what I want from new relationships, even though I know they cannot be the same.

 I sat across the table from my friend, the last of the coffee in our cups was cold, but we held the porcelain so our hands would be still.  We passed back and forth the secrets and hopes and things we feared, trusting that the other would sift the chaff, keep what mattered, let the rest go.  Each time we came to moments like this we both steeped in it, holy and common, fleeting and permanent, some to be remembered in the most minute detail, but most meant to become part of a larger tapestry.  When I think what makes this magic possible, I realize I have less to do with it than other influences.  Strategy and best practices cannot recreate this moment.

 Once, when I asked my friend for advice for my son, he said “Be humble.  Trust God.”  Which turns out is helpful direction for most things we feel lost about, including the times we are waiting for a friend to appear.

 Think of the friendships you have made in your life, most of which still exist, and be grateful for those gifts.  With that you will feel the hope that exists already, the sureness that the next person you meet has the same potential for this powerful bond.  But first, be humble.  In this pose, we can be the most generous friend in the making, who, as it turns out, finds friends most easily.

 Hope this finds you with searching eyes,

 David

 

Copyright © 2020 David Smith