Some time ago I was thinking – and writing here – about friendship. I realize that I keep coming back to this subject and I have the slightest suspicion this may be caused by a couple of situations earlier this summer, making me feel the need for honesty and loyalty in a friendship stronger than ever. There have been difficult moments with certain friends and while I considered my reactions to be justified then, I wasn’t so sure when I recalled these incidents later. I still haven’t come to a final conclusion, still find myself uncertain, still find new questions whenever I think I have the answers.
Many rash words have been spoken in the past, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth, and while I wouldn’t say they were all wrong, they were certainly spoken too hastily, too impulsively to be in any way considerate. So I knew my reaction was premature but instead of questioning my own motivation I started to question the concerned relationships, looking for justification of my wrong behaviour. I felt no longer confident about these relationships, my evaluation of these friendships. I thought that maybe the difficult moments could only arise because I had read too much into these relationships, calling them friendship on a very high level, expecting too much input from the other one. I questioned these people’s friendship, their loyalty. I figured that I had reacted the way I did because I felt somewhat 'unrewarded', I felt that my input wasn’t acknowledged the way it should be and that I was giving a lot more than I was receiving in return. This thought occupied me for quite a while and finally led me to wonder whether a true friendship could ever be about expectations, about input or some kind of ’quid pro quo’ situation. This was the moment I started thinking about everything I have written under Friendship, wondering what exactly friendship means to me, what my friends mean to me.
After writing it all down, what happened was that I became much clearer about my own intentions and expectations but also about my mistakes and misconceptions regarding friendship. I could see clearly what friendship should be and what it shouldn’t be and where I needed to become more mindful, more appreciative and more selfless.
What didn’t happen was that I got rid of all my doubts. Some remained. Some friends remained 'under question', even after seeing that friendship is not about expectation, about being rewarded for what I give. It seemed to me that these friendships are somewhat unbalanced. Despite not expecting return services for my loyalty or my faith, I found that I feel uneasy if I keep on offering but am offered nothing in return. Not because of reward. It’s a question of trust, I think. If I look at friendship as being some kind of commitment, how can I listen to a friend’s thoughts, ideas, fears but hardly ever reveal any of my own, keeping my distance. Friends do not need to tell each other everything, I’m sure there are things that are not necessarily part of a friendship and sometimes there may be things one can’t talk about immediately and has to come to terms with for oneself before being able to talk about. But if I feel that there is something wrong in a friend’s behaviour, something troubling him or her, making me feel uneasy or awkward in his or her company over a prolonged time, standing between us, effecting our friendship even, and they still don’t talk to me, don’t I have a right to feel hurt?
I honestly don’t know. I just don’t find an answer. Of course I have to accept a friend’s decision not to tell me, but can I really avoid to become doubtful about such a friendship in the long run? Is it not natural that I start to question a friend if I feel that trust is not mutual in this friendship? How can I help beginning to wonder what the reasons for this may be? If I am not given any real reasons, my mind starts to make up others. I know this is wrong and I try to work on it, try to remain objective, try not to become attached to these thoughts, but it’s not easy. I see that the innocence of this friendship might get lost, so I talk to the person of my doubts but am told in return that I have no reason to worry. I want to believe this – but again, doubt arises. I look into the past to find the moment when things started to change and looking from my new perspective of doubt, I find more doubt. I find signs that it started long before I realized, I find potential untruth and I start to question more and more. I don’t trust my own perception anymore, especially as I know everything I feel is influenced by my recent loss of another person. I know that and I know it's not right, but I feel like I'm in some kind of limbo. I do not want to lose this friendship and much less do I want to harm it unjustified, a friend so dear and important in my life. A special friend. A soul friend maybe.
I have to be careful not to give too much space to this problem – 'constructing a story around it' as we call it at the buddhist center – and I’m well aware this might be just what I’m doing. Sometimes my imagination is way too vivid and I find it hard to differ between what is there in reality and what springs from my own fantasy or past experiences. The longer I let it happen, the more the borders will blur, making it more and more difficult to get back to the hard facts. Yes, a danger foreseen is half avoided – it's just so difficult to put into practice what we already know in theory, isn't it? So many obstacels to be broken ... idleness, fear, ego. And the painful experience of finding all these fears, suspicions and doubts being finally confirmed is still so fresh and hurting that it’s hard too remain objective and stop myself from projecting what happened with one friend onto another.
Despite the many words I know there is only one solution. I know I have to talk to this friend again, being open and honest about my doubts, leaving enough space for understanding and possible explanation on his part and a will to understand and believe as well as the readiness to admit to possible wrong conclusions on my part.
How do I tell a person I have – temporarily maybe – lost faith in his or her loyalty and honesty? Maybe that is the moment true friendship reveals itself, in being able to work this out, to come out even stronger of a crisis like this. Of course this is wishful thinking on my part, especially as I have just learned the hard way that it may also happen quite differently, but what else can I do but remain positive and optimistic? If I’m not, how can I see any sense in a difficult situation, a confrontation like the one I have to seek now or in the future?
25 November 2006
04 November 2006
"My favourite season"
Thinking about autumn and it's many different aspects, it's heady beauty, it's dignity and grandeur, I am tempted to call it 'my favourite season'.
But then I start thinking about spring and instantly recall the dazzling beauty, the lusciousness I associate with it. It's so hard to decide ... and I find myself thinking: Maybe it's rather spring, that is my favourite season?
Until I remember the many things I loved about last summer and suddenly start to wonder: Isn't summer a season I love so much, maybe even my favourite of all the seasons?... It's opulence, it's radiant beauty, I surely wouldn't want to miss that?
Especially as the above are just the aspects necessary to provide an apt contrast to everything I love about winter ... it's austere beauty, it's frosty elegance. Because winter, you know, might just be ... my favourite season.
...
(Smiling, sighing ... I'll just drop the unnecessary comparative here.)
I vaguely recall a poem by some Chinese Zen master on this very subject but must admit that I remember only the first few lines ... hold on, I'll try to find the book ..!
(5 min. later)
I got it, here it is:
Ten thousand flowers in spring,
the moon in autumn,
a cool breeze in summer,
snow in winter.
If your mind isn't clouded
by unnecessary things,
this is the best season of your life.
(Wu Men)
But then I start thinking about spring and instantly recall the dazzling beauty, the lusciousness I associate with it. It's so hard to decide ... and I find myself thinking: Maybe it's rather spring, that is my favourite season?
Until I remember the many things I loved about last summer and suddenly start to wonder: Isn't summer a season I love so much, maybe even my favourite of all the seasons?... It's opulence, it's radiant beauty, I surely wouldn't want to miss that?
Especially as the above are just the aspects necessary to provide an apt contrast to everything I love about winter ... it's austere beauty, it's frosty elegance. Because winter, you know, might just be ... my favourite season.
...
(Smiling, sighing ... I'll just drop the unnecessary comparative here.)
I vaguely recall a poem by some Chinese Zen master on this very subject but must admit that I remember only the first few lines ... hold on, I'll try to find the book ..!
(5 min. later)
I got it, here it is:
Ten thousand flowers in spring,
the moon in autumn,
a cool breeze in summer,
snow in winter.
If your mind isn't clouded
by unnecessary things,
this is the best season of your life.
(Wu Men)
03 November 2006
Friendship
Brooding once again, still contemplating human relations – friendship and it's different aspects, effects, implications and correlations ... occupying my mind for weeks now.
I realized that I never really thought about friendship in the past and that despite certainly appreciating my friends I somehow took them for granted for a very long time. I never really cared a lot about friendship. I don't mean to say that I do not care about the people who are my friends – of course I care about them – what I mean is that I never cared much about finding friends. If it happened, it was fine, but if it didn't – well, it didn't bother me too much. Being much of a loner anyway, I never measured my popularity with people by the number of friends I had. When I was younger I often looked at having a lot of friends as being a bit of a burden, a strain. People bugging me, stealing precious time I'd rather spend by myself. Quite selfish maybe, I know, but what can I say – that's the way it was. It's different now. I'm grateful I have my friends and I wouldn't want to miss any of them, however different from one another they may be. I feel they are all genuine in their very own way.
But what exactly does friendship mean, what does it mean to have a friend, to be a friend? Does it mean the same for everyone of us? I found that Europeans use the terms 'friend' and 'friendship' quite different from Americans for example. While in many European countries 'friend' is a status granted to a rather small number of people only, typically describing a very close long-term relationship, clearly distinguished from the more superficial and non-committal 'acquaintanceship', Americans often use the term 'friend' more freely and general. So, just to avoid misunderstanding: when I use the term friendship here, I understand it in the 'traditional' European sense of the word, a relationship based on esteem, trust, loyalty and mutual understanding. It may contain a certain emotional intimacy but not in a sexual context.
Some of us, especially the younger ones, use the term 'friend' rather easily, while others have quite a struggle with that expression. Special friendships – those that stand out of the big pool of different relationships we build up over the years – are very rare. Most of us have a whole variety of interpersonal relations and I want to draw a clear line between mere acquaintanceship and real friendship here, leaving out relatives as well. Parents and siblings may have a lot of influence on us, especially as we grow up, but they are not what I am thinking about at the moment.
Who are the people we call our friends and why do we call them that? What does the expression 'friend' mean to us and in how far do our various 'friendships' differ from one another? Friends, true friends, close friends, best friends – we distinguish between so many different kinds of friends and while most women seem to be quite particular about these distinctions, many men seem to avoid the term 'friend' altogether, prefering to call their friends 'mates', 'buddies' or 'lads' instead. I think the average modern male friendship has little in common with classic or antique concepts of friendship between men. At least in our western world it is often complicated by social manipulation, conditioning and – as a result – subliminal homophobia. I do not want to imply that there is no real friendship between men, I just think it's rare. And the rarest of all seems to be sincere and lasting friendship between male and female, friendship independent of gender, based not on romantic or sexual aspects but on mutual understanding and a deep confidence in each other.
In native Hawaii they have a concept of friendship known as pili hoaloha – a devoted, platonic union between members of the same or opposite sex, a commitment between two friends, reaching it's climax in a ceremonial act not unlike a wedding. Pili hoaloha goes much deeper than our modern understanding of friendship, it's more like a 'cohabitation of soul friends'. The Hawaiians do also have ceremonies for 'normal' sexual marriages of course, but they clearly differ between these.
If I get more particular and start to focus just on what we call our best friends, isn't it surprising how different from one another they still are? What is it that attracts our interest in a certain person, that makes us feel congenial with him or her, raises enough emotion, enough affection and confidence in us to want to be friends with this person? What is it that creates the foundation for a future friendship? Is it shared experience? A person's appearance? Charisma? Or a certain quality in that person? Are we trying to supply a want, an unsatisfied need in ourselves by making friends with somebody, giving in to a subliminal selfish interest? And if we are, are we honest enough to admit to this, trying to understand what's driving us? Maybe it's a blend of all those aspects in different shares. It might vary from person to person and even within one friendship the focus might shift over the years, as friendship grows, developes and changes with us.
Thinking of friendship in the purest sense of the word, the term altruism comes to my mind. How many of our friends do we love unselfishly, without regard to reward or benefit for ourselves? I dare say that most of us are far from a sublime virtue like that: wholeheartedly loving a person not for his or her qualities, skills or attributes, but simply for being a fellow human being. Sometimes we experience a short glimpse of that altruism, feeling some kind of abstract love, of Metta or loving kindness, a sudden concern for the well-being of a person beyond rational understanding or selfish interest. But normally our motives are not quite so unselfish. When we say we miss someone, normally we mean that we miss that person's company. We miss that friend in our life. If we're honest with ourselves we'll recognize it as the selfish wish to be provided with what we lack in ourselves. The more friends we have with a certain quality, the less we will miss any one of them but if a certain interest is shared with only one friend, we will miss him or her very quickly. When we are bored, we miss the entertainment, the diversion or amusement this person offers. Or we miss the safety, the strength this friend provides whenever we feel weak. Many of the people we call our friends we call so simply because we share some kind of interest. It's more like a syndicate than a real friendship. If one of the involved parties starts to change, developes or redirects his or her interests, we may find that we have nothing else in common and often such a friendship will just fizzle out.
All this (and a lot more) went through my head, trying to define the meaning of the word 'friendship' for myself. While all this thinking opened my eyes for some aspects I hadn't really regarded so far, I realized that there will probably be 'friendships' that might not stand up to it in the long run, that will remain mere acquaintanceships despite calling them friendship and I accepted the fact that it just makes no sense to constantly question whether or not some friendship is a true and stable one in the purest sense of the word.
We need friends to master this life. We need people who share our interests, who listen to us, who understand and care for us. And in return, being friends, we fulfill this need in others. Only now have I come to understand that the people from whom we receive these gifts do not necessarily have to be the people to whom we offer them in return. One man's teacher might be another's scholar, every scholar might be another's teacher. Life changes all the time, people and situations change, nothing can ever be final or constant. Also, every friendship consists of at least two people and even if I am sure about my own motifs, I'll never know about the other's. I have to trust. That's part of the concept of friendship I think – confidence and trust.
I might feel a lot of friendly affection for somebody and still this person might not return my feelings, which will hurt me – because of my still too alive ego – but shouldn't change my feelings for that person. Friendship - as love - should be about giving, not receiving, in the first place. I am well aware that it's pretty hard to practice altruism and that I'll probably never manage to be completely altruistic. It's illusory. I am far from reaching the ideal of complete unselfishness but that doesn't mean I stop trying. I'll try not to lessen those of my friendships that seem somewhat 'minor' to others – less intense maybe, less exciting, less intellectual – and I'll try to stop judging by what benefits I gain myself. As long as these friends have an interest in seeing me, I should keep in mind that they might just judge the very same friendship completely different. Looking back on my life so far, I must admit that sometimes my 'best friends' didn't necessarily prove to be 'true friends'. Sometimes the true friends were people I didn't even count among my closer friends. And I might not be my best friend's 'best friend' (ego beware!). So I guess there's not much of a point in all this labelling and classifying after all. A friend can only be a friend if I let him in, if I do not judge in advance, if I accept his or her friendship and do not shut myself off.
And while my mind starts to go even further here, toward a yet different kind of friendship – spiritual friendship – I think I'll grant us a little break. I'm really, really tired now, writing for hours on end, as usual.
I'll be back some time soon, so ... good night!
I realized that I never really thought about friendship in the past and that despite certainly appreciating my friends I somehow took them for granted for a very long time. I never really cared a lot about friendship. I don't mean to say that I do not care about the people who are my friends – of course I care about them – what I mean is that I never cared much about finding friends. If it happened, it was fine, but if it didn't – well, it didn't bother me too much. Being much of a loner anyway, I never measured my popularity with people by the number of friends I had. When I was younger I often looked at having a lot of friends as being a bit of a burden, a strain. People bugging me, stealing precious time I'd rather spend by myself. Quite selfish maybe, I know, but what can I say – that's the way it was. It's different now. I'm grateful I have my friends and I wouldn't want to miss any of them, however different from one another they may be. I feel they are all genuine in their very own way.
But what exactly does friendship mean, what does it mean to have a friend, to be a friend? Does it mean the same for everyone of us? I found that Europeans use the terms 'friend' and 'friendship' quite different from Americans for example. While in many European countries 'friend' is a status granted to a rather small number of people only, typically describing a very close long-term relationship, clearly distinguished from the more superficial and non-committal 'acquaintanceship', Americans often use the term 'friend' more freely and general. So, just to avoid misunderstanding: when I use the term friendship here, I understand it in the 'traditional' European sense of the word, a relationship based on esteem, trust, loyalty and mutual understanding. It may contain a certain emotional intimacy but not in a sexual context.
Some of us, especially the younger ones, use the term 'friend' rather easily, while others have quite a struggle with that expression. Special friendships – those that stand out of the big pool of different relationships we build up over the years – are very rare. Most of us have a whole variety of interpersonal relations and I want to draw a clear line between mere acquaintanceship and real friendship here, leaving out relatives as well. Parents and siblings may have a lot of influence on us, especially as we grow up, but they are not what I am thinking about at the moment.
Who are the people we call our friends and why do we call them that? What does the expression 'friend' mean to us and in how far do our various 'friendships' differ from one another? Friends, true friends, close friends, best friends – we distinguish between so many different kinds of friends and while most women seem to be quite particular about these distinctions, many men seem to avoid the term 'friend' altogether, prefering to call their friends 'mates', 'buddies' or 'lads' instead. I think the average modern male friendship has little in common with classic or antique concepts of friendship between men. At least in our western world it is often complicated by social manipulation, conditioning and – as a result – subliminal homophobia. I do not want to imply that there is no real friendship between men, I just think it's rare. And the rarest of all seems to be sincere and lasting friendship between male and female, friendship independent of gender, based not on romantic or sexual aspects but on mutual understanding and a deep confidence in each other.
In native Hawaii they have a concept of friendship known as pili hoaloha – a devoted, platonic union between members of the same or opposite sex, a commitment between two friends, reaching it's climax in a ceremonial act not unlike a wedding. Pili hoaloha goes much deeper than our modern understanding of friendship, it's more like a 'cohabitation of soul friends'. The Hawaiians do also have ceremonies for 'normal' sexual marriages of course, but they clearly differ between these.
If I get more particular and start to focus just on what we call our best friends, isn't it surprising how different from one another they still are? What is it that attracts our interest in a certain person, that makes us feel congenial with him or her, raises enough emotion, enough affection and confidence in us to want to be friends with this person? What is it that creates the foundation for a future friendship? Is it shared experience? A person's appearance? Charisma? Or a certain quality in that person? Are we trying to supply a want, an unsatisfied need in ourselves by making friends with somebody, giving in to a subliminal selfish interest? And if we are, are we honest enough to admit to this, trying to understand what's driving us? Maybe it's a blend of all those aspects in different shares. It might vary from person to person and even within one friendship the focus might shift over the years, as friendship grows, developes and changes with us.
Thinking of friendship in the purest sense of the word, the term altruism comes to my mind. How many of our friends do we love unselfishly, without regard to reward or benefit for ourselves? I dare say that most of us are far from a sublime virtue like that: wholeheartedly loving a person not for his or her qualities, skills or attributes, but simply for being a fellow human being. Sometimes we experience a short glimpse of that altruism, feeling some kind of abstract love, of Metta or loving kindness, a sudden concern for the well-being of a person beyond rational understanding or selfish interest. But normally our motives are not quite so unselfish. When we say we miss someone, normally we mean that we miss that person's company. We miss that friend in our life. If we're honest with ourselves we'll recognize it as the selfish wish to be provided with what we lack in ourselves. The more friends we have with a certain quality, the less we will miss any one of them but if a certain interest is shared with only one friend, we will miss him or her very quickly. When we are bored, we miss the entertainment, the diversion or amusement this person offers. Or we miss the safety, the strength this friend provides whenever we feel weak. Many of the people we call our friends we call so simply because we share some kind of interest. It's more like a syndicate than a real friendship. If one of the involved parties starts to change, developes or redirects his or her interests, we may find that we have nothing else in common and often such a friendship will just fizzle out.
All this (and a lot more) went through my head, trying to define the meaning of the word 'friendship' for myself. While all this thinking opened my eyes for some aspects I hadn't really regarded so far, I realized that there will probably be 'friendships' that might not stand up to it in the long run, that will remain mere acquaintanceships despite calling them friendship and I accepted the fact that it just makes no sense to constantly question whether or not some friendship is a true and stable one in the purest sense of the word.
We need friends to master this life. We need people who share our interests, who listen to us, who understand and care for us. And in return, being friends, we fulfill this need in others. Only now have I come to understand that the people from whom we receive these gifts do not necessarily have to be the people to whom we offer them in return. One man's teacher might be another's scholar, every scholar might be another's teacher. Life changes all the time, people and situations change, nothing can ever be final or constant. Also, every friendship consists of at least two people and even if I am sure about my own motifs, I'll never know about the other's. I have to trust. That's part of the concept of friendship I think – confidence and trust.
I might feel a lot of friendly affection for somebody and still this person might not return my feelings, which will hurt me – because of my still too alive ego – but shouldn't change my feelings for that person. Friendship - as love - should be about giving, not receiving, in the first place. I am well aware that it's pretty hard to practice altruism and that I'll probably never manage to be completely altruistic. It's illusory. I am far from reaching the ideal of complete unselfishness but that doesn't mean I stop trying. I'll try not to lessen those of my friendships that seem somewhat 'minor' to others – less intense maybe, less exciting, less intellectual – and I'll try to stop judging by what benefits I gain myself. As long as these friends have an interest in seeing me, I should keep in mind that they might just judge the very same friendship completely different. Looking back on my life so far, I must admit that sometimes my 'best friends' didn't necessarily prove to be 'true friends'. Sometimes the true friends were people I didn't even count among my closer friends. And I might not be my best friend's 'best friend' (ego beware!). So I guess there's not much of a point in all this labelling and classifying after all. A friend can only be a friend if I let him in, if I do not judge in advance, if I accept his or her friendship and do not shut myself off.
And while my mind starts to go even further here, toward a yet different kind of friendship – spiritual friendship – I think I'll grant us a little break. I'm really, really tired now, writing for hours on end, as usual.
I'll be back some time soon, so ... good night!
01 November 2006
A Gardener's Life
"In his or her life, each person can take one of two attitudes: to build or to plant.
Builders may take years over their tasks, but one day they will finish what they are doing. Then they will stop, hemmed in by their own walls. Life becomes meaningless once the building is finished.
Those who plant suffer the storms and the seasons and rarely rest. Unlike the building, a garden never stops growing. And by its constant demands on the gardener's attentions, it makes the gardener's life a great adventure."
(Paulo Coelho, 'Brida')
Builders may take years over their tasks, but one day they will finish what they are doing. Then they will stop, hemmed in by their own walls. Life becomes meaningless once the building is finished.
Those who plant suffer the storms and the seasons and rarely rest. Unlike the building, a garden never stops growing. And by its constant demands on the gardener's attentions, it makes the gardener's life a great adventure."
(Paulo Coelho, 'Brida')
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