an old friend who has seen you evolve is an undeniably valuable connection. they always want to hear your raw and unfiltered truth—whether it’s about a down moment or a victory. they know how hard you have worked to fully say goodbye to the past and move into a more vibrant life. —yung pueblo

Friendship mysteries are underexplored. Most articles, shows, and YouTube videos extol the highs and lows of romantic relationships, as if they were the more important points of light. My experience is that the depth of true belonging is found in the realm of friends. I’d be lost, diminished to a shadow, without trusted pals. They have been the constancy during crises, collapse, and “wanna die” rejections. Anxiety and doubt (and inflammation) melt in the presence of caring and tenderness. Partners and family can do this, but not always. And we don’t all need dozens of people, it’s more about the depth than the number. Sometimes our pets and just a couple humans gives us the belonging that allows us to live our best lives, if we tend to them.

When a romantic tie comes undone, it’s an expected part of the wild ride. A clever beloved compared a first marriage to the “first pancake,” the test to see if the griddle is hot. When romance cools, we (re)turn to long time companions for the quieter kind of tenderness that is proof of being loveable, especially with those we met in school, roomies, or early workmates. We shared everything from humiliating crushes, periods and voice drops, and crises of major proportion, and didn’t give up on each other. Trust was built on being real, talking talking talking, and listening with compassion. The interruptive stages of marrying, children, moving, career, and loss always challenge bonds, but it’s magical when they strengthen them. Getting together from across country, or after a few years of unintended absence, “It’s like we were never apart!”

How well have you tended to long-time relationships during pandemic isolation, aging, crises, and dread of the near future? I hear from many that they are waking up to having lost intimacy with their dearests. Much of the angst and depression we (and our valuable young beloveds) are experiencing is due to passive isolation, only overcome if brave enough to invite a conversation. For those at a distance, we can even start with a well-chosen symbol. I’ve convinced a beloved who hesitated to reach out “Because you are so busy” to send me an emoji when she thinks of me. She didn’t know what I meant at first, but now I’m getting clever parades of images that tell me how she is. Not sure what the girl vampire meant, but she’d just had blood work, so…🧛‍♀️? Then we must extend beyond the digital.

In thinking about this piece, I recalled a quote on a cross stitched pillow: “A friend to all is a friend to none” (such is the fame of Aristotle: my words will never appear in needlework). He was prescient about the confusion created by social media redefining this important word. During these isolating times, we were forced to trade face-to-face for Facebook. It brought a wink of needed connection. The hard truth? Cyber-folk cannot generate belonging—that can only exist in real life. We need to relearn how to fully focus on each someone. Rebuilding intimacy is impossible with distraction machines in our hands, broadcasting the undeniable message: “You are not as important as whoever is going to call, tweet, Instagram, or text.” It is only by dropping the shield of cyber-distance (or too much time not connecting for whatever reasons) that we build genuine belonging. (You can start to dread a future post on this uncomfortable topic).

I am lucky to have been blessed with a “good friend gene.” My parents’ companions were aunts/uncles/cousins with different DNA, often preferred to the actuals. Living in the same town for fifty years helped. The post-WWII housing crisis meant my parents shared an apartment with another couple while mom was carrying me. They became lifelongs, despite secrets, crazy moments, and core differences in religion and politics. I studied how my parents curried their friendships: door always open, liquor cabinet at the ready for solace and celebration, set another plate for dinner. They knew who was up or down and what they might need, whether a casserole, a discreet ear, help with a building project, or a short-term loan, equally reciprocated. If they didn’t hear from someone, they kept calling before answering machines, on phones stuck to the wall. Final evidence is on their headstones: my mom’s reads “Everyone’s Best Friend,” and my dad’s? “A Friend in Deed.” This is a hard act to follow, and I’m still learning.

“Friendship” is a course I don’t take lightly, having failed it in the past, still learning to let go with a wildly varying degree of honesty and grace. The truly painful fails came when I alienated those who were super important to me by taking them for granted, crossing boundaries, being blithely unaware that I was hurting their feelings. Isn’t everyone temporarily capable of being insensitive, self-absorbed, or just plain too much? I wantonly believed those I love would speak up when I crossed such a line, giving me a chance to atone. But it is often too much to expect: it takes huge courage to be critical, and is action based on love. Mended relationships grow stronger by telling the truth and asking for what we need to trust again. They sustain us over our whole lives. The ones that didn’t make it, that ended with a bang or a whimper? I still treasure memories of sharing great time and love and good work, even if the connection was severed by disinterest or rejection.

My more recent need for hardcore support during too many major crises, mostly during pandemic limitations, has proved the value of re-bonding. I’ve needed the care and support of so many, including those who live far away; just knowing they care enough to email or text, to ask how I am doing, has been a lifesaver, and became placeholders for face to face. This recognition of the importance of tending to friends has turned into a frequent journal prompt. When I’m feeling lost or alone, I let others know I miss them, believing is entirely possible that they need connection, too. 🥰

I offer this process, just a few minutes of exploration, as an antidote to loneliness, isolation, and any guilt for not reaching out earlier. It’s not too late to turn many friends’ ships back to your shore, maybe initiating reconnection with a single emoji.

1. Sit undistracted, and ask yourself what kind of social contact could benefit you right now? Let that steep a minute, and consider the activities you are missing that are better with a boon companion. The following categories of shared experience spring to my mind, recalling those who:

. make me laugh and ponder new perspectives, suggest books and movies

. trade off care/attention when disaster strikes

. keep current, know I want to hear from them, especially when they’re having a hard time

. suggest we play games, promote mini-adventures

. love being creative, doing artsy projects together

. share my joy in “awe” and suggest joyful excursion, walks in the woods

. pursue Spiritual and calming moments, like meditation and spiritual teachers

. love me as I am, and remind me to feel the same for myself and I, them.

. understand it’s okay to say “not now,” supporting the mutual need to retreat, to be alone

2. Now create a list of the names that evoke belonging. Reach out in some small way, making sure to let each of them know they are important to you and would love to spend time together at some point. It isn’t a demand, it’s an invitation. Everyone at times is insanely busy with crises of life, health, and needs to be quiet and alone.

3. Ask yourself who might be hesitant to contact you, whether going through a hard time, or maybe felt you didn’t have time for them. Busy people need to be reminded they are loved, and not alone, even if not immediately available for getting together. Be the leader, and notice who responds. In this way, you may find your schedule dotted with planned fun, being useful, feeling appreciated. Real friends can do this for us.

Click here to purchase my NEW guided visualization, Finding Your Perfect Summer Cabin.

Click here to purchase my book, The Courage to Trust.

Click here to purchase the audiobook of The Courage to Trust.

Click here to purchase my 90-minute guided visualization, Embracing True Prosperity.

Friendshipping