Buddy,
crony, homeboy, BFF, chum, confidant, pal.
No matter what term you use, a true friend can be hard to come by!
The
dictionary definition of friend is, “person whom one knows
and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual
or family relations.”
What is a true friend? When I was a child, making
friends seemed easy. Whenever I saw another small person like me, we recognized
an immediate kinship and began playing together. But as typically happens as we
age, that facile closeness happens less and less often as suspicions and
competition arise, and it becomes much harder to trust others and feel that
they truly “have our back.”
My
favorite type of friend appreciates me for me, not what I can do for them,
really listens, and supports what I am going through and what I am trying to
accomplish. There is an easy trust —almost a telepathy.
I
try to be a good friend by listening and responding to what the other person is
saying, showing genuine interest in others and what they are up to, giving
suggestions or physically being helping with a project, and observing to see
how I can add value to a situation.
Growing
up, I discovered that sometimes friends can become too close. From fourth through eighth grades, I was best friends
with Stephanie J. We became close friends and did everything together. It got
to the point where if my classmates saw me without her, they asked where
Stephanie was. It was divine and terrible at the same time! We shared some hilarious, exciting times and
100 percent supported each other without question, but what was terrible was
that by the time she moved to a different city after eighth grade, I was
socially awkward with anyone who was not Stephanie. In high school I was shy and especially
afraid of boys.
In
the “Curriculum for Living” coursework I took last year through LandmarkWorldwide, I learned that once babies learn language, they develop a voice in their
head that is constantly judging everything around us. They call it the “Already Always Listening.”
The constant narrative in our head seeks to make ourselves right and others
wrong. The price of being right is that we sacrifice closeness with others, and
thus, happiness and fulfillment. My theory is that when the voice in our head develops
(when our vocabulary expands), we start judging everything, which makes those
magical automatic friendships harder to come by. Once
we are aware of the voice (assuming
we ever do), we can actively choose not to listen to it or automatically
believe it, and instead consciously set aside judgment so we can enjoy the
company of others.
Friendship
is sharing a cup of coffee, a joke or story, enjoying the
moment together, without expectation. Enjoying the beauty of nature together in
the moment. Helping someone because you want to, not because of what you will
get in return. Sightseeing in a new city, delighting in discovering the
neighborhoods, appreciating the architecture and the unfamiliar foods. Calling
a friend to share a difficult situation, and not being worried about being
judged. Friends make the journey of life easier, help us feel connected in the
community, and feel our life is making a difference.
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