. . . Indeed, I would have you discuss
everything with a friend; but first of all discuss the man himself. When
friendship is settled, you must trust; before friendship is formed, you must
pass judgment.
Those persons indeed put last first and
confound their duties, who, violating the rules of Theophrastus, judge a man
after they have made him their friend, instead of making him their friend after
they have judged him.
Ponder for a long time whether you
shall admit a given person to your friendship; but when you have decided to
admit him, welcome him with all your heart and soul. . . .
—Seneca
the Younger, Moral Letters to Lucilius 3,
tr Gummere
I have
caused myself much unnecessary grief because I have sometimes flipped the
crucial order of this rule. Instead of choosing a friend carefully, and then committing
myself fully, I have committed myself far too hastily and carelessly. I then
foolishly sat in the ruins, confused about what had gone wrong.
The
problem always lay in my own ability to decide upon a measure for friendship. At
first, it was nothing but the appearance of beauty. I was that shallow. Then it
was charm or intelligence. Then it was the illusion of being learned or
educated.
I finally,
after too many years, realized that there was really just one thing that
mattered as the measure for friendship. You and I can have the most diverse of
interests, tastes, preferences, or backgrounds. These things are all about
externals. We can, and will, only be friends when we share a common sense of
what is right and wrong, of the internals, guided by a moral compass.
To judge
others does not mean to condemn them; it means simply to understand them for
who they are. I must reflect upon how and why this person acts as he does, and
I must make my trust and friendship flow in harmony with those values he
employs to live.
Others
will be as they are. Blame will never change that. The Stoic grasps that blame
has no place in a sound moral universe, and the only solution is to take upon myself
a full moral responsibility for myself. I should worry about what I do, and
never what is done to me.
I could
write whole volumes blaming others for being poor friends, but it would neither
help me, nor would it help them. To do so would be the very antithesis of
friendship.
To avoid
grief, guilt, or resentment is to do nothing more than to be accountable for oneself.
If and when I choose to love someone, and to be a friend, there will quite
simply be no conditions, no requirements, and no contracts. Love and friendship
do not admit of such limitations.
Written in 7/2009
Image: Giotto, The Kiss of Judas (c. 1305)
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