Saturday, February 28, 2015

Friends that are really strangers

"Trust someone who can see these three things in you:
The  sorrow behind your smile, the love behind your anger,
the reason behind your silence." Thich Nhat Hanh

It was interesting to come across this quote today. Helped me understand the extent to which I am more a friend to some than others, and vice versa for me. Later that night when I was relaxing in the tub reading Khalil Gibran's "My Friend"one of my "friends" contacted me hoping to engage in what I hope was harmless conversation. Oddly enough Gibran's piece is about how these two friends are actually strangers, one who cannot show his true face to the other. A few stanzas stood out including the following:

"Thou lovest Truth and Beauty and Righteousness; and I for thy sake say it is well and seemly to love these things. But in my heart I laugh at thy love. Yet I would not have thee see my laughter. I would laugh alone."

"My friend, thou art good and cautious and wise; nay, thou art perfect--and I, too, speak with thee wisely and cautiously. And yet I am mad. But I mask my madness. I would be mad alone."

"My friend, thou art not my friend, but how shall I make thee understand? My path is not thy path, yet together we walk, hand in hand."

Indeed I have all but come to this realization regarding one of my friends. On my end, how can I claim this person as my friend when it is clear I am not a source of comfort, camaraderie, or wisdom? They cannot be their true selves around me when I find many of their mannerisms in need of re-evaluation. I hear and feel, respect and support for a status quo I find oppressive and demeaning come from someone who claims to be against such things, yet finds such things attractive to the point of forsaking their"people" in favor of   the power they can gain. Speaking truth to this power has silenced them. Awkward masks applied immediately. Yet politics of disposability are inherent in such respect and support of this oppressive status-quo. Respect, dignity, and care are not given unconditionally but awarded for good behavior. Oddly treated as bad things when requested--too high-maintenance is a common refrain.

As a member of the classically downtrodden they see emulation of their oppressor as the way out and it shows in their tastes especially when it comes to partnership--and yes I mean valued choice of mate (and yes I realize I am likely falsely assuming much but cannot help but observe the tendencies unfold when relating with others). Someone, a member of the status quo to be their second in command, to validate their sense of power, their birthright denied them for far too long, especially by those deemed beneath them, oppressor and oppressed alike; something M. Wallace speaks to with a keen sense of familiarity as she remarks on the blame cast on the undesirable black woman by just about everyone for just about anything.

This is not the path I am walking. I am painfully aware that I have outlived my usefulness, yet for some reason wish I could be this person's friend. Yet I cannot claim to understand where they are coming from with their lust for power and thus their quickness to view me as a naive child for being so idealistic in my approach, so negative in my response to any hint of oppression being perpetuated (and is that controlled rage only reserved for one group of people? black women not allowed to speak truth to power without being put in their place yet again?). Still, this person has provided me much in the way of the opportunity to experience and express a side of myself in ways I had not yet imagined could be a reality until the present. So no, I will not partake in such politics of disposability. This person has shown and given me much despite our fundamentally flawed relationship. I owe them my unending gratitude.

All I can hope to do is understand this person. See beyond their talk of enemies (while ignoring opportunities to earnestly understand them in their own right), beyond their showering of benevolence and respect on those who serve their egos well (while bypassing the lessons of those who call them out in hopes of improved relations), beyond the scorn for imperfect expressions of self that render others disposable to them (rather than learning whole heartedly from them thus discovering the beauty in their being). Even if that means continuing to treat them with decency, dignity, and respect while walking my own path, if that is all I can do when being in relation with them, I will learn to live with that. My heart is broken at the prospect that a whole hearted friendship will likely not be an outcome. Still, I have gratitude for having crossed paths with this person even though they are more stranger than friend.

I am sure this predicament I find myself in is all my fault. But hey, if they did nothing wrong, then neither did I, right? Unlike them, my level of sensitivity and self awareness leads me to knowing better than that.

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