Friendship

Friends, to me, are my lifeblood. Day in and day out we move through the ocean of humanity with an expectation of leaving behind enough of a mark that, when we are gone, someone will miss us. Friends, those who really know and get us, are the ones who feel that indelible mark of our uniqueness upon them. Who we are is reflected back to us in how our friends perceive us, and how they change as a result of knowing us.

We could say the same of family, however some family carries with it this connection that is forced and has in some cases carried on long past its efficacious period. Friends are different, knowing in most cases that we do not have to continue a relationship beyond what is healthy, we tend towards that which benefits us most.

Thus true, longstanding friendship is what gives us roots, what causes us to believe the very best about ourselves, and is what sees when we are truly not right with the universe. It is, in listening to these sage opinions, truly hearing them, that we can seek to become the person we dream of.

And it is in being the person who can speak in honesty, to a friend, without fear of repercussion or retribution that is the truest of friends. We all believe ourselves to be this type of friend. But in truth, until we have had to say something to a dear friend that is hard, we do not know the test of friendship. Until we have had to stand, naked and humble before them, admitting fault, guilt or wrongdoing we no more know how to be a friend than how to be a stranger.

Sure the chai on Saturdays is wonderful. And the book store on a lazy Sunday. But friendship is not forged in those moments, it is celebrated. Those are the zeniths. It is in the nadir that the dross is burned off, and we find that which we knew was there, but had not yet been accessed.

And so we temper our friendships in the same manner we would a good piece of wood. As time wears away edges, it reveals a grain that is simple. We appreciate it. But, it is in the care and keeping that we find its beauty. Polished wood glows and bears the marks of life upon it. It shows the imprint of our care and it thirsts for our touch. In that touch, the connection between us and someone who has been imprinted with our lives, we find our right path.