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| View of the garden of the house where I stayed, in Wye. Part of the back of the house where I lived for 31 years. |
After the last blog staggered into the light following weeks of
silence, I am back blog-producing weekly. I returned to Beloved
Brugge a week ago after nearly three weeks of absence and
visitor-focus, to find the little town still as beautiful; the
temporary, pop-up Pre-Triennale cafe outside the theatre, gone and
Papageno truly visible once more. The plastic shroud enveloping the
entire theatre for painting, also removed to reveal subtle shades of
yellow and all three ATMs in the Paribas facility not working. Even
Paradise isn’t perfect!
I spent a long weekend in Wye where I lived and loved for 31 years
and though I didn’t visit anyone as my time was limited and
arranged already, the wonderful luncheon in a magnificent garden in
Chilham [that postcard-pretty village nearby] gave me a prolonged
opportunity to catch up with many friends. The genuine warmth of
recognition and greeting was uplifting to spirits already high and
the long chats I managed with several old friends was what
psychologists call ‘strokes’ i.e. affectionate nudges to the
ego!! In fact, the warm memory has caused me to ponder on the concept
of friendship, real friendship, that is, not the social media kind.
I had two dear girl friends, both now dead, met when I was 20,
socialised with, danced, pub-visited, dined, drank and journeyed with
over perhaps sixty years. After our first few years living near each
other, one moved to Borneo and I moved miles away from base. Contact
was relatively rare over more than fifty years, but when we did meet,
the interrupted conversation resumed as if it had never stopped and
the comfortable togetherness remained. I didn’t think of contacting
either when I encountered problems but I did see some of their
children from time to time and one of my daughters stayed with one of
the two, when she was in Borneo. So, compared to some friendships,
this was intermittent in contact yet constant in emotional closeness
when we did meet or speak.
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| Part of a group of friends, united by a passion for Mah Jong. Celebrating a birthday with Chinese food. |
This year I experienced the return of Chronic Fatigue, something I
had endured for around twenty years in the past. The return proved to
last only a temporary few months but a group of Bruggean friends
brought me a hot meal each day for two weeks; provided massage for a
damaged back during the same period, and did some shopping for me. I
have known these friends for around three years and generally see
them for a weekly get-together. They happen to be chiefly younger
than I. So a completely different set-up from my old friends above
but the term ‘friendship’ seems to cover both. There is the same
warmth, kindness, empathy all of which are so sustaining to the
recipient.
In Book V111 of Nichomachean Ethics [350 BC] three types of friendship are described; friendships of utility; friendships of pleasure and friendships of the good. The first covers those who add convenience to your life, like the easy, reliable welcome in the
newspaper shop where I call every Saturday. The second category has
those who help to keep you light-hearted. Definitely the skinny
Afghan waiter in the restaurant nearby who shouted, ‘Hello darling;
good to see you,’ as I passed this morning. Always he cheers me on
my way, sometimes after a little chat to enquire about family and his
application for Belgian citizenship. The third friendships, of the
good, are rare but precious. With such a friend, every topic under
the sun, including your deepest fears or triumphs, can be discussed;
souls can be bared, hopes and mistakes shared; family worries
confided. In this hierarchy of friendship, perhaps only my sister
would qualify; maybe my children too. |
| A family group exhibiting the third category of friendship: Friendship of the good.. |
Friendship is about caring, empathy, loyalty, trust. Euripides said
that friends show their love in times of trouble not in times of
happiness, but my experience suggests that Friendship is a Man For
All Seasons. One constantly hears the advice for the elderly to have
social contacts and social activities to help them remain mentally
and physically healthy and one can see why. To be with people who
make you happy; to be in company you enjoy, is a simple task, a
simple gift for well-being, for to feel valued by others is a deep
human need satisfied. I recently read a deceptively simple statement
by Emerson which rather hits the spot. ‘The only way to have a
friend, is to be a friend’.
