From time to time, I find myself lying in a (metaphorical) prone position with my face on the ground. I can go weeks like this unattended, which I consider a testament to my ability to surrender to a situation. Luckily, I have in my orbit a handful of women, and one lone man, who have been given the direction to pick me up off the ground when I dwell there too long. Thank God for these beautiful humans.
I am a mostly ridiculous individual, which I consider to be my most redeeming quality. I like to make a ruckus as often as possible, ignore normal conventions and rarely take myself too seriously. It’s much easier to laugh at myself and flit about than to do the work of becoming a fully fledged adult. But that’s what I have my friends for, patiently prodding and poking me and asking me the hard questions. I can generally get away with murder, but not with most of these folks. They know where I keep the shovel.
I often describe that being close friends with me is like peeling back the layers of an onion. The sad thing about that analogy is that you can peel back all the layers you want, but it’s still a damn onion. I am not sure how satisfying that is for anyone. Personally, onions make me cry but I am so grateful for those who have the fortitude to keep going.
Smarter, more talented people have articulated the beauty of enduring friendships, like David Whyte, who put into words exactly how I feel –
“The dynamic of friendship is almost always underestimated as a constant force in human life … But no matter the medicinal virtues of being a true friend or sustaining a long close relationship with another, the ultimate touchstone of friendship is not improvement, neither of the other nor of the self; the ultimate touchstone is witness, the privilege of having been seen by someone and the equal privilege of being granted the sight of the essence of another …”
David Whyte
I am a person who loves so easily and generously but accepts love so sparingly. I feel somewhat sad for my old school friends who have patiently waded through miles of shallow waters before being rewarded by the deep and abiding currents of my friendship. Now that I am older, I am finding it easier and easier to let people see behind the curtains and the distance in which folks have to travel to reach me is much shorter. This is the glory of aging – all the old defense mechanisms are tired, and you care much less. Self-image and self-preservation are a young person’s game.
I find myself meditating on friendship this morning because of my dear friend Asha Dornfest. She is the kind of person that is universally liked and respected by everyone who meets her. She is equally tough and tender and toggles between the two with such skill and grace. Today is the day that she was born.
Asha and I have walked for miles in our neighborhood throughout this pandemic, sharing stories about self-discovery, triumph and heartbreak. My conversations with her are like taking a master’s class in vulnerability and being a good human. Try as we might to discuss topics like lipstick and nail colors; we always end up immersed in the deep end of the pool.
I love you AFD. Happy birthday. Your friendship is like a warm hug on a cold winter’s day.
Down the Rabbit Hole
