I was typing a greeting to a friend via text this morning and saw, before editing, this phrase:
How are you my friend?
I edited it to read, How are you, my friend? and added the smiley emoji blowing kissy hearts.
You see, we are long time pals with a 39 year history, therefore we regularly sprinkle in the lovey-dovey emoji. However, as I sat and stared at my screen, I realized that the first iteration of my intended-to-be-friendly phrase would have worked nearly as well as the second.
How are you my friend?
Now, I know our friendship has been cultivated in very rich soil, the soil of two score years of laughter, comradery, shared experiences and showing up for one another. However, the strange part, the part that might chafe and rub, the part that keeps me wondering if our next beer might be our last, is...for the last two decades or so, we have come out of the starting gates agreeing on almost nothing.
Our economic views are incompatible.
Our religions are convergent but not always in union.
Our reproductive views clash.
We can't agree on whether buying an American made vehicle is the patriotic thing to do.
One of us digs Biggie. For the other, Tupac is the preferred artist.
How are you my friend?
We were raised by thoughtful and sensitive people who encouraged us to think for ourselves but we ultimately and unwittingly adopted their ways of thinking anyway...about politics, about family dynamics, about responsibility, about whether to use honey or vinegar as a way to frame a statement.
How are you my friend?
Thankfully we have a common love of music, of world cultures, of old cartoons, of local history, of the environment. We are fans of unadulterated aging, of antique boats and of 80s era MTV. We had matching Swatch watches. We can't stand cafeteria pizza. We are most comfortable in hot weather. We laugh at any good joke about a rabbi and a priest.
Some people don't believe in the respectful approach to friendship. They refuse to walk on the occasional eggshell because it's just not in sync with their egos. They post on social media about how they heartily and rightfully dumped folks who used to be a part of their lives because, darn it, they just can't seem to agree. They bluster and puff and decide to be right as opposed to being happy. All of this makes me flinch and although sad is an emotion I clearly identify with, when it comes to friends, I purposely and willfully choose happy.
How are you, my friend?
I try my best to listen and learn. I state my opinions, though I usually do so with a light and upturned hand so that my friend will keep coming back to our virtual party wearing a chin strapped and paper-tasseled hat, slapping at me as I blow iridescent bubbles from a wand.
We are honey and vinegar.
I think a lot about the concept. I see myself as the honey, my old friend as the vinegar...and before you or I tie any value to either, you should know I take honey and vinegar into my physical body every day to heal what ails me. The combination strengthens my immunity. It helps my tummy troubles. It balances my inner body systems. Honey and vinegar is part of how I survive.
How are you, my friend?
Trying to come up with a list of things I appreciate about friendship would be difficult at best because I have so many friends and they are all so incredibly different from one another and from me and the kind of friend I try to be. The list would take me days to create but I only have ten minutes here so this is a short register of what jumps out at me today, particularly at this specific moment in time.
I guess they keep you close to heart even if, actually, especially if, you disagree. They accept you while you're being obstinate. They judge rarely, but fairly. They find value in who you are as a human being even if who you are isn't within a mile of who they are. They'd walk that mile for you or with you if there was trouble. They open doors for you and celebrate your successes. They notice when you are afraid, even if that fear stems from something they seriously encouraged you not to do and instead of broadcasting an "I told you so" while lording over and peacocking in the neon of their brilliance, they bring you a blanket and tea. But if they can't do any of that because they aren't huggers and talkers and cheerleaders, then they stand by your side and at least they do no harm.
At least they do no harm.
How are you, my friend?
I look forward to hearing from you. I always do.
#mushroomtumbler
