How many friends do you have in life? First, I guess, we need to figure out "what's a friend?" I have a friend who has 8,000 people in his Rollodex, and he claims he "knows" them all. I'm skeptical.
Let's begin with a fairly "severe" or tight definition: someone with whom you can talk about anything and it's safe. No topics barred. You can talk about all of the dinner table "taboo" topics and it's okay: money, income, politics, religion, sex, marriage, parenting, ALL of it--and you know they won't judge you and/or ostracize you.
How many people do you have that fit that definition? Count them.
I've asked this question of more than 2,500 professional people (attending seminars) in cities all over the world including France, Germany, England, Egypt, Greece, Turkey, South Africa, India, China, Japan, Thailand, Australia, Brazil, Costa Rica, Canada, multiple US states, etc. Most people hold up 1-3 fingers. Many hold up zero. A few, very few, hold up ten. One fellow said, "0.8!" What? "Yeah," he said, "there's 20% of my life I haven't told my wife." One tentative conclusion from these convenience sample data would be, "It's a relatively lonely life, that is, not very many people really know who we are."
Why is it that we don't share more of our lives, our thoughts, our beliefs with others? I believe it's because of the fear of rejection. We are afraid that others would judge us, criticize us, reject us, perhaps even kill us, so we keep our thoughts to ourselves. Maybe we fear the conflict that will likely arise if others don't agree with us. Whatever the cause (what's your explanation?), the vast majority of people have very few "friends" who totally know them.
I didn't have anyone in that "totally-knows-me" category until I was 48. It just wasn't safe. After I stepped away from a system that prescribed language, dress, behavior, thoughts, beliefs, and actions, I found it much easier to even think about accepting others they way they are and in return anticipating that others might offer the same to me.
By the time I was fifty, I had developed four such people. How refreshing that was.
Two of them were colleagues at work. We'd go to a late Friday afternoon watering hole and share our experiences with marriage, life, money, politics, all of it. I was blown away by this honesty and authenticity. Then, one of them had a heart attack and died. Another took another job, and I seldom saw him again. The third guy I paid $100 an hour to. (!) And the fourth was my wife. As it turns out, she knows everything about me, all of it, the warts, the dark side, the politically incorrect thoughts, all of it, and still says she adores me. She is the most unconditionally accepting person I've ever met. Her love is re-generating.
Later another somewhat less "totally transparent" friend organized a "Workaholics Retreat" for a small group of us to meet, play golf, and talk through life in the evenings. I found these conversations engaging, interesting, provocative -- and less than wholly authentic. I could tell there were topics and issues that members of the group were not ready nor willing to engage. And clearly that would involve judgment and probably rejection. Over time this group developed to include at varying times up to fifteen people. While they are "friends," there are many things that I would not feel "safe" discussing with them. And I can tell, they not with me.
So, how do you define a "friend?" Here are some ideas for your consideration... If you disagree, I'd be eager to hear your thoughts below.
A true friend ....
Let's begin with a fairly "severe" or tight definition: someone with whom you can talk about anything and it's safe. No topics barred. You can talk about all of the dinner table "taboo" topics and it's okay: money, income, politics, religion, sex, marriage, parenting, ALL of it--and you know they won't judge you and/or ostracize you.
How many people do you have that fit that definition? Count them.
I've asked this question of more than 2,500 professional people (attending seminars) in cities all over the world including France, Germany, England, Egypt, Greece, Turkey, South Africa, India, China, Japan, Thailand, Australia, Brazil, Costa Rica, Canada, multiple US states, etc. Most people hold up 1-3 fingers. Many hold up zero. A few, very few, hold up ten. One fellow said, "0.8!" What? "Yeah," he said, "there's 20% of my life I haven't told my wife." One tentative conclusion from these convenience sample data would be, "It's a relatively lonely life, that is, not very many people really know who we are."
Why is it that we don't share more of our lives, our thoughts, our beliefs with others? I believe it's because of the fear of rejection. We are afraid that others would judge us, criticize us, reject us, perhaps even kill us, so we keep our thoughts to ourselves. Maybe we fear the conflict that will likely arise if others don't agree with us. Whatever the cause (what's your explanation?), the vast majority of people have very few "friends" who totally know them.
I didn't have anyone in that "totally-knows-me" category until I was 48. It just wasn't safe. After I stepped away from a system that prescribed language, dress, behavior, thoughts, beliefs, and actions, I found it much easier to even think about accepting others they way they are and in return anticipating that others might offer the same to me.
By the time I was fifty, I had developed four such people. How refreshing that was.
Two of them were colleagues at work. We'd go to a late Friday afternoon watering hole and share our experiences with marriage, life, money, politics, all of it. I was blown away by this honesty and authenticity. Then, one of them had a heart attack and died. Another took another job, and I seldom saw him again. The third guy I paid $100 an hour to. (!) And the fourth was my wife. As it turns out, she knows everything about me, all of it, the warts, the dark side, the politically incorrect thoughts, all of it, and still says she adores me. She is the most unconditionally accepting person I've ever met. Her love is re-generating.
Later another somewhat less "totally transparent" friend organized a "Workaholics Retreat" for a small group of us to meet, play golf, and talk through life in the evenings. I found these conversations engaging, interesting, provocative -- and less than wholly authentic. I could tell there were topics and issues that members of the group were not ready nor willing to engage. And clearly that would involve judgment and probably rejection. Over time this group developed to include at varying times up to fifteen people. While they are "friends," there are many things that I would not feel "safe" discussing with them. And I can tell, they not with me.
So, how do you define a "friend?" Here are some ideas for your consideration... If you disagree, I'd be eager to hear your thoughts below.
A true friend ....
- Accepts you as you are and isn't trying to change you.
- Is willing even eager to know everything about you without judging you.
- Is willing to share everything about themselves without fear of being judged.
- Will do whatever they can to help you in a time of need.
- Enjoys spending time with you.
- Keeps in touch, they enjoy communicating with you, sharing the events of life back and forth.
So, perhaps we can agree that a person is not either a "whole" friend or no friend at all. Friendship, like many things, (not pregnancy though), is an analog concept, not a binary one. There might be some peripheral friends, some moderate friends, and some close friends. Clearly, the list above would define a close friend. We can imagine a set of concentric circles with distance on the outer rings and intimacy on the inner rings and people who fit into each circle. When you count your friends, how far out do you go? Again, though, I'd ask how many are there in that innermost circle?
Likewise, we could also ask about the balance between the two people, you and your friends. We all know of people who are more highly invested in a relationship with us than we are with them--and vice verse. These relationships might be characterized as "imbalanced." How many times do you distance yourself from others who want to get closer? And how many times are your initiatives rebuffed by others with whom you'd like to be closer?
Of course, this all begs the question, "How good a friend are you to others?" Does it take one to be one? If you don't have as many friends as you'd like, are you making the effort to be a friend? I know someone who doesn't send holiday greetings and then is sad because he doesn't get more. Another who doesn't invite people to dinner, and then is sad when he isn't invited to dinner. A good friend of mine drove 8 hours one way to visit me when I had knee replacement surgery, stayed one night, then drove 8 hours home. That was very impressive to me. I didn't do the same for him when he had the same surgery. My excuse was I had class and had to teach. I still feel guilty about not reciprocating as deeply as my friend did. How about you? Have you had a similar experience?
Can one ever balance the books in a relationship, particularly those with close friends? Perhaps the point is you don't have to. If they are, and if you are, a true friend, the balance doesn't matter. You like them, they like you, and they give you slack for your imperfections, and you them. Yet.... at some point, the lack of reciprocity with behavior, authentic sharing of self, or caring will affect the depth of the friendship. Yes/no?
What's a friend? Someone who knows you? Knows you? How completely? (Does any living person know you completely?) Someone who's there when you need them? Someone who expresses their feelings for you?
How many do you have? To how many are you one?
