I’ve been thinking about friendship lately.
As a chicken whose memories of spring are hazy and make me feel vaguely uncomfortable, I’m finding myself more selective of those with whom I spend my precious time. It’s precious because I could get hit by a bus at any moment; doesn’t matter that I live in the suburbs where mass transit is essentially unknown. Buses are sneaky. I don’t trust them any farther than I can throw them.
Anyway, knowing that I could be on some bus hit list has prompted me to ponder friendships. Unlike family, we get to choose our friends, so it’s an important job selecting ones who will give us the most bang for our buck. Are they supportive of our goals? Do they listen when we talk about the crappy day we’re having, or do they interrupt so they can tell us about theirs? Are they interesting? Fun to be with? Kind? Are we eager to be in their company or do we sometimes dread the inevitable drama they bring with them?
These are questions we should ask ourselves, but some even more important questions are these: Are we the kind of friend we would choose for ourselves? Are we asking for more than we’re giving in return? We can’t expect our friends to be loving, compassionate, and supportive, unless we are all those things to them.
So that’s what I’ve been thinking about lately — making sure the friendship scales are balanced and that one person isn’t doing most of the heavy lifting. Give and take, brothers and sisters. The clock is ticking. That bus could be lurking around the corner with its engine running and a scrolling LED message just for you: FINAL DESTINATION.