Since we cannot be polygamists in our conjugal life, at least we can do so with friendship.
As it happens, the harem of friends, so tantalizing a notion, often translates into feeling pulled in a dozen different directions, with the guilty sense of having disappointed everyone a little. W hether friendship is intrinsically singular and exclusive, or plural and democratic, is a question that has vexed many commentators.
Aristotle distinguished three types of friendship in The Nicomachean Ethics: And yet, if I am honest, I must admit that the friendships of mine which have lasted longest have been with those whose integrity, or humanity, or strength to bear their troubles I continue to admire. Conversely, when I lost respect for someone, however winning he otherwise remained, the friendship petered away almost immediately.
Montaigne distinguished between friendship, which he saw as a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and the calculating worldly alliances around him, which he thought unworthy of the name. In paying tribute to his late friend Etienne de la Boetie, Montaigne wrote: Our friendship has no other model than itself, and can be compared only with itself.
It is not one special consideration, nor two, nor three, nor four, nor a thousand: Two may talk and one may hear, but three cannot take part in a conversation of the most sincere and searching sort. Friendship is a long conversation.
I suppose I could imagine a nonverbal friendship revolving around shared physical work or sport, but for me, good talk is the point of the thing. Indeed, the ability to generate conversation by the hour is the most promising indication, during its uncertain early stages, that a possible friendship will take hold.
In the first few conversations there may be an exaggeration of agreement, as both parties angle for adhesive surfaces. But later on, trust builds through the courage to assert disagreement, through the tactful acceptance that differences of opinion will have to remain.
Some view like-mindedness as both the precondition and product of friendship. Myself, I distrust it. I have one friend who keeps assuming that we see the world eye-to-eye. Perhaps I have too much invested in a view of myself as idiosyncratic to be eager to join any coterie, even a coterie of two.
Better be a nettle in the side of your friend than his echo. F riendship is a school for character, allowing us the chance to study in great detail and over time temperaments very different from our own. These charming quirks, these contradictions, these nobilities, these blind spots of our friends we track not out of disinterested curiosity: I can begin to predict, and arm myself in advance against repeated bruises.
I have one friend who is always late, so I bring a book along when I am to meet her. If I give her a manuscript to read and she promises to look at it over the weekend, I start preparing myself for a month-long wait. I approach such matters experimentally: I have a dear old friend, Richard, who shies away from personal confidences.
Years go by without my learning anything about his love life, and he does not encourage the baring of my soul either, much as I like that sort of thing. But we share so many other interests and values that that limitation seems easily borne, most of the time. Once, however, I found myself in a state of emotional despair; I told him I had exhausted my hopes of finding love or success, that I felt suicidal, and he changed the topic, patently embarrassed.
For a while I sulked, annoyed at him for having failed me, but I also began to see my despair through his eyes as melodramatic, childish petulance, and I began to let it go. As it happened, he found other ways during our visit to be so considerate that I ended up feeling better, even without our having had a heart-to-heart talk. I suppose the moral is that a friend can serve as a corrective to our insular miseries simply by offering up bullying dissertation essential otherness.
Certain words may be too cruel if spoken at the wrong moment — or may fall on deaf ears, for any number of reasons. I also find with each friend, as they must with me, that some initial resistance, restlessness, psychic weather must be overcome before that tender ideal attentiveness may be called forth. I have a good friend, Charlie, who is often very distracted whenever we first get together.
It would be foolish for me to broach an important subject at such moments, so I resign myself to waiting the half hour or however long it takes until his jumpiness subsides.
Or else I draw this pattern grumpily to his attention. Once he has settled down, however, I can tell Charlie virtually anything, and he me.
But the candor cannot be rushed. It must be built up to with the verbal equivalent of limbering exercises. T he Friendship Scene — a flow of shared confidences, recognitions, humor, advice, speculation, even wisdom — is one of the key elements of modern friendships.
The Friendship Scene is by its nature not an everyday occurrence. It represents the pinnacle, the fruit of the friendship, potentially ever-present but not always arrived at. But a truly achieved Friendship Scene can be among the best experiences life has to offer. I remember one such afternoon when Michael, a close writer-friend, and I met at a cafeteria on a balmy Saturday in early spring and talked for three and a half hours. There were no outside time pressures that particular afternoon, a rare occurrence for either of us.
At first we caught up with our latest business, the sort of items that might have gone into a biweekly bulletin sent to any number of acquaintances. Then gradually we settled into an area of perplexing unresolved impressions.
These were the memory equivalents of food grains stuck in our teeth, which we were now trying to free with our tongues: In the course of our free associations we eventually descended into what was really bothering us. I learned he was preoccupied with the fate of an help writing short essays college friend who was dying of AIDS; he, that my father was in poor health and needed two operations.
We had touched bottom — mortality — and it was reassuring to settle there awhile. Gradually we rose again, drawn back to the questions of ego and career, craft and romance. Contemporary urban life, with its tight schedules and crowded appointment books, has helped to shape modern friendship into something requiring a good deal of intentionality and pursuit. You phone a friend and make a date a week or more in advance; then you set aside an evening, like a tryst, during which to squeeze in all your news and advice, confession and opinion.
Such intimate compression may add a romantic note to modern friendships, but it also places a strain on the meeting to yield a high quality of meaning and satisfaction, closer to art than life, thereby increasing the chance for disappointment.
Surely there must be another, saner rhythm to friendship in rural areas — or maybe not? I am capable of only so much intense, exciting communication before I start to fade; I come to these encounters equipped with a six-hour oxygen tank. My safe place is with my friends, away from my house. No one can harm me when I am with them, because they are the ones who care about me most and are by my side no matter what.
My mom and my dad split up when I was 18 months old, and I lived with my mom but still got to see my dad every other weekend. Even though I was so young at the time, I still feel like she did not want me around, and that pain still gets to me now.
I have problems trusting my mom now because she lets all the guys, who are in her life, control what my younger brother and I do; she is our mother and those guys are only her boyfriends. She is the one who is supposed to tell us what to do and care more about us more than them. When I am with my friends, I feel like they care so much about what happens to me and what I do. They always help me with my problems when I need them the most.
I trust them because they keep my secrets and are not so quick to judge me because of my mistakes.
We can have our fun times and make the worst moments the best moments. I feel like I can be myself when I am with them and they can be themselves around me.
I never thought I could really find a person who really got me and truly understood me, until the beginning of my junior year when I met my friend Marshanti. She is one of my at hime friends, but also one of my most caring friends.
When my boyfriend and I had broken up, she was the one who talked to me and wanted to know everything that happened and see if I was alright.
True friendship is a way of being mutually lovable to each other! In fact every flourishing relationship has a whiff friendship into it. International Friendship day is therefore celebrated around the world in order to create awareness and encourage them to instil the assignment expert prices of friendship in every relationship.
People take up variant college essay on friendship of greeting their best friends some of which include friendship day essays, wishes, messages, parties, friendship day gifts and many more. Find here a few of the interesting essays on friendship day in English which will be a great help to you.