Thursday, 3 July 2008


I have just spent the evening talking with a very old and dear friend. We have known each other for twenty years, but until tonight there were pieces of the jigsaw that makes him who he is that were missing. I don't know why he chose tonight to talk so honestly - things just seemed to lead that way. And I don't know why he chose to tell me some of the things he did. I hadn't asked, and our friendship isn't based on any need for me to know. But I was deeply moved by both what he said and the fact that he chose to tell me.

What is friendship about? A shared history? Being supportive? Offering advice and a shoulder to cry on? Maybe all these. But sometimes these get in the way of what is important; and that is acceptance.

I think being a true friend is accepting the contradiction that people are as they are, and also that they are essentially unknowable, as we all are. And being truly open to that contradiction.