My mind has a miraculous, sometimes tedious, characteristic: little things stick in it. I don't will it, but whatever the experience - be it random firing of neurons? karmic imprints? providential manipulations? ... whatever, the little thing remains there stored away and can be recalled when the right time seems to have arrived. I can excel at games of trivia (what does the T.S. stand for in T.S. Elliot?). And sometimes it feels like all my mind is capable of retaining is the trivial, the random ..... but at the same time this ability - gift (disability? curse?) can come in handy.
One such fragment of memory is a short passage from a book I read many years ago by the Canadian critic and newspaper columnist Robert Fulford. The passage is in his memoir, Best Seat in the House: Memoirs of a Lucky Man (1988); it has stuck with me, so now I can share it with you:
"In my experience, friendship begins in the exchange of laughter, and dwindles when easy laughter becomes impossible."
Friendship. Mysterious and sacred. One day evoking gratitude and love, another day exasperation and fury. Anybody who's ever had a friend has probably reflected on the nature of friendship, maybe tried to analyze it ....
Fulford's definition seems as good and true as any I've ever come across. He uses that sentence to introduce his recollections of his friendship, which began in their boyhood, with the famous classical pianist Glen Gould. And it works for him because that's exactly what happened to their friendship - it began when they were boys and ended when their easy laughter became impossible when they were men.
The first thing that occurs to me now is what a great gift it is to have a friendship that continues throughout our lifetime and have it retain the grace of easy mutual laughter. It may wax and wane and suffer through periods of tension, but it can remain and endure. A friendship like that is a gift.
Friendships that begin in childhood often feel permanent and everlasting to us - or at least we feel they should be so. But more often than not, they trail off and fizzle out .... that's the way of this life, no matter how hard we strain against it's cyclical, impermanent nature.
Friendships become painful when we cling to them after the easy laughter becomes impossible. They really cease to be friendships, don't they? They become a duty, a trial, an endurance test - and worst of all, we sometimes lose ourselves in them. Preserving the relationship becomes paramount.
Friendships are supposed to be about fun and comfort and mutual acceptance. The are also a refuge of support when difficulties and challenges arise. We can, and should, reach out to friends when we have difficulties. And although they may give you straight-up feedback and challenge you when you're deceiving yourself or others, they won't judge you.
If you ever find yourself assessing a friendship, wondering whether it's worth preserving and spending energy on, ask yourself, is there an easiness in the relationship? Does it feel like a comfortable place to be? And is there mutual respect?
Or does it feel like work? A duty? Does it feel like I have to measure up? (And most of the time it feels like I don't). Am I walking on eggshells, giving in and making accommodations to the other all the time? Is there a lot of comparison going on?
Was there ever an an exchange of laughter in this friendship? Is it still there?
Or has that exchange of laughter become impossible?
Of course there may be times when an exchange of tears is the central experience of the friendship. But it's during those times you most likely discover that 'laughter' is just a metaphor. And, while the laughter may at times be literally present, what is really there is a mutual respect and acceptance - and attention to one another without judgement.
By the way, T.S. stands for Thomas Sterns. But you knew that.
Trying to define love is like ... trying to define love. Or wonder, or art, or ... any other ineffable human experience. But we continue to try. Here's the one that makes the most sense to me:
Attention is love
And this, from Thich Nhat Hanh:
The most precious gift we can offer anyone is our attention. When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers.
Last evening I watched the PBS documentary on the life and career of Pete Seeger. (Pete Seeger: The Power of Song. You can find the complete program on Youtube)
I'd seen it before but this viewing was a kind of tribute to him because of the news of his death last week at the age of 94. I wanted to stop and remember him because he had a profound influence on me as I made the journey along the rocky road of adolescence.
What was it about him that so impressed me? His music? His activism? His 'lefty' attitudes? All that I suppose, but at the root of it - he encouraged me. I never met him, nor did I ever see him perform live, but I could tell that he had a profound faith in the human heart - in our capacity for love, and co-operative effort. He believed in the possibilities and potential of human communities. He was, in my view, the ultimate humanist - he had, deep in his heart, a profound concern for human welfare and a belief in human values and dignity.
We need people like Pete Seeger to remind us that we need one another - that we are nothing without community, that at our core we are relational beings.
We need people like Pete Seeger to encourage us. People like him teach us to respect and support and encourage one another - because we all, at all times, need to be and to feel respected. And without exception, at one time or another in our lives, we all need support and encouragement.
Pete Seeger's medium of communication was his music. And he was most effective in communicating and connecting when he was in front of an audience. He said that his greatest satisfaction was singing with his audience - whether they be adults or children - and that singing together made him feel hopeful about the future of the human community.
I remember hearing something Pete said to an audience that says better than I ever will what he believed about the power of song - and why his faith in that power has given me courage throughout my life. I can't find the verbatim quote (maybe you can direct me to to it) but it goes something like: "If you know the words, sing out! You'll encourage your neighbour!"
I smile when I remember listening to my vinyl copy of The Best of Pete Seeger, over and over again.
And I smile remembering Bruce Springsteen's cheer (Bruce gives me courage too.) at the celebration of Pete's 90th birthday: "Congratulations Pete! You outlived the bastards!!"
Yes.
