My friend.
I often refer to the person or people with whom I’m talking as *my friend* or “my friends.”
I like that it proposes the relationship I desire to have.
I see truth in the saccharine phrase attributed to both poets Guest and Yeats, “There are no strangers here. Only friends you haven’t yet met.”
I believe that if I got to know the people I don’t know, I would like them, too.
The same way that I like what I know about you and, I figure, if they got to know me, they would like me, too.
I’m not saying I’d want to be housemates with everyone or that I’d like spending the same amount of time with all people.
I just think of people—like you—as my friend.
***
Kindergarteners and pre-school kiddos, at the playground, they run over and start playing with other kids.
Unashamed of not having been introduced.
They don’t make friends. They find them.
***
A twitter thread by @SahilBloom entitled, “Harsh truths.”
* Harsh truth: Money is a terrible barometer of happiness.
* Harsh truth: The timelines we create for ourselves are mostly just arbitrary nonsense.
* Harsh truth: Hard work and consistency aren’t always enough.
I like them.
But then there was this one:
*Harsh truth: Most of your friends aren’t really your friends. They’re just along for the ride when it’s fun, convenient, or valuable.”
Color me naive, but no, Sahil. That’s just not true.
I’m so sorry you think that.
***
I respond to an acquaintance’s probe, “How are you?” with “I just got some pretty disappointing news.”
Why do I say that? Because I just received some pretty disappointing news and it is center stage for me at the time.
I don’t, without authorization to elaborate, dump my stuff in the otherwise fresh, open space between us.
I wait to see how they respond.
I give them the opportunity to “friend-up.”
I’m pretty certain were I just meeting @SahilBloom with this interaction, he would be of support.
***
At a very early age, I assume Rabbi Gunter Hirshberg, 60 years my elder, is friends with God.
I like this particularly because when he preaches he refer to us, the members of the congregation, as “my friends.”
I’m young, but I can figure out the implication—if he thinkis of me as his friend, and he and God are friends, then God and I have a chance at being friends too.
***
People we don’t like upset us.
And, we forgive people we like.
Irving Becker:
“If you dislike someone, the way they hold their spoon will offend you. If you like someone, they could drop a plate of food in your lap, and you wouldn’t mind.”
Want a hack to keep you from being annoyed?
Delight in all people. Think of them all as potential friends.
***
It can take some work to not find some people’s
qualities not annoying.
But it’s always possible.
Your choice.
***
We have the choice to see a world where “most of your friends aren’t really your friends. They’re just along for the ride when it’s fun, convenient, or valuable.”
Or, we can choose to see everyone as friends— Sahil Bloom, a silver haired rabbi, and even that person on zoom who still hasn’t figured out that their shouting to someone in the next room will be picked up by their unmuted mic.
Friends have the magic ability to see shortcomings—not as deal breakers—but as tolerable, or even endearing, characteristics.
***
This article might not be the best one I’ve written.
But that’s OK, my friend.
I know you’ll forgive me.
My friend.
I often refer to the person or people with whom I’m talking as *my friend* or “my friends.”
I like that it proposes the relationship I desire to have.
I see truth in the saccharine phrase attributed to both poets Guest and Yeats, “There are no strangers here. Only friends you haven’t yet met.”
I believe that if I got to know the people I don’t know, I would like them, too.
The same way that I like what I know about you and, I figure, if they got to know me, they would like me, too.
I’m not saying I’d want to be housemates with everyone or that I’d like spending the same amount of time with all people.
I just think of people—like you—as my friend.
***
Kindergarteners and pre-school kiddos, at the playground, they run over and start playing with other kids.
Unashamed of not having been introduced.
They don’t make friends. They find them.
***
A twitter thread by @SahilBloom entitled, “Harsh truths.”
* Harsh truth: Money is a terrible barometer of happiness.
* Harsh truth: The timelines we create for ourselves are mostly just arbitrary nonsense.
* Harsh truth: Hard work and consistency aren’t always enough.
I like them.
But then there was this one:
*Harsh truth: Most of your friends aren’t really your friends. They’re just along for the ride when it’s fun, convenient, or valuable.”
Color me naive, but no, Sahil. That’s just not true.
I’m so sorry you think that.
***
I respond to an acquaintance’s probe, “How are you?” with “I just got some pretty disappointing news.”
Why do I say that? Because I just received some pretty disappointing news and it is center stage for me at the time.
I don’t, without authorization to elaborate, dump my stuff in the otherwise fresh, open space between us.
I wait to see how they respond.
I give them the opportunity to “friend-up.”
I’m pretty certain were I just meeting @SahilBloom with this interaction, he would be of support.
***
At a very early age, I assume Rabbi Gunter Hirshberg, 60 years my elder, is friends with God.
I like this particularly because when he preaches he refer to us, the members of the congregation, as “my friends.”
I’m young, but I can figure out the implication—if he thinkis of me as his friend, and he and God are friends, then God and I have a chance at being friends too.
***
People we don’t like upset us.
And, we forgive people we like.
Irving Becker:
“If you dislike someone, the way they hold their spoon will offend you. If you like someone, they could drop a plate of food in your lap, and you wouldn’t mind.”
Want a hack to keep you from being annoyed?
Delight in all people. Think of them all as potential friends.
***
It can take some work to not find some people’s
qualities not annoying.
But it’s always possible.
Your choice.
***
We have the choice to see a world where “most of your friends aren’t really your friends. They’re just along for the ride when it’s fun, convenient, or valuable.”
Or, we can choose to see everyone as friends— Sahil Bloom, a silver haired rabbi, and even that person on zoom who still hasn’t figured out that their shouting to someone in the next room will be picked up by their unmuted mic.
Friends have the magic ability to see shortcomings—not as deal breakers—but as tolerable, or even endearing, characteristics.
***
This article might not be the best one I’ve written.
But that’s OK, my friend.
I know you’ll forgive me.
My friend.
I often refer to the person or people with whom I’m talking as *my friend* or “my friends.”
I like that it proposes the relationship I desire to have.
I see truth in the saccharine phrase attributed to both poets Guest and Yeats, “There are no strangers here. Only friends you haven’t yet met.”
I believe that if I got to know the people I don’t know, I would like them, too.
The same way that I like what I know about you and, I figure, if they got to know me, they would like me, too.
I’m not saying I’d want to be housemates with everyone or that I’d like spending the same amount of time with all people.
I just think of people—like you—as my friend.
***
Kindergarteners and pre-school kiddos, at the playground, they run over and start playing with other kids.
Unashamed of not having been introduced.
They don’t make friends. They find them.
***
A twitter thread by @SahilBloom entitled, “Harsh truths.”
* Harsh truth: Money is a terrible barometer of happiness.
* Harsh truth: The timelines we create for ourselves are mostly just arbitrary nonsense.
* Harsh truth: Hard work and consistency aren’t always enough.
I like them.
But then there was this one:
*Harsh truth: Most of your friends aren’t really your friends. They’re just along for the ride when it’s fun, convenient, or valuable.”
Color me naive, but no, Sahil. That’s just not true.
I’m so sorry you think that.
***
I respond to an acquaintance’s probe, “How are you?” with “I just got some pretty disappointing news.”
Why do I say that? Because I just received some pretty disappointing news and it is center stage for me at the time.
I don’t, without authorization to elaborate, dump my stuff in the otherwise fresh, open space between us.
I wait to see how they respond.
I give them the opportunity to “friend-up.”
I’m pretty certain were I just meeting @SahilBloom with this interaction, he would be of support.
***
At a very early age, I assume Rabbi Gunter Hirshberg, 60 years my elder, is friends with God.
I like this particularly because when he preaches he refer to us, the members of the congregation, as “my friends.”
I’m young, but I can figure out the implication—if he thinkis of me as his friend, and he and God are friends, then God and I have a chance at being friends too.
***
People we don’t like upset us.
And, we forgive people we like.
Irving Becker:
“If you dislike someone, the way they hold their spoon will offend you. If you like someone, they could drop a plate of food in your lap, and you wouldn’t mind.”
Want a hack to keep you from being annoyed?
Delight in all people. Think of them all as potential friends.
***
It can take some work to not find some people’s
qualities not annoying.
But it’s always possible.
Your choice.
***
We have the choice to see a world where “most of your friends aren’t really your friends. They’re just along for the ride when it’s fun, convenient, or valuable.”
Or, we can choose to see everyone as friends— Sahil Bloom, a silver haired rabbi, and even that person on zoom who still hasn’t figured out that their shouting to someone in the next room will be picked up by their unmuted mic.
Friends have the magic ability to see shortcomings—not as deal breakers—but as tolerable, or even endearing, characteristics.
***
This article might not be the best one I’ve written.
But that’s OK, my friend.
I know you’ll forgive me.
—
With love,
Rabbi Brian
