Fighting for Friendship

in #friends5 years ago

Last night I exchanged harsh words with a friend. We were debating the lock down and whether more people will be impacted with or without the lock down it is purely speculation on both of our parts and will probably never be known.

So, I work up this morning with the knowledge that in the name of right fighting I ignored her true feelings and focused on data, while she tried to explain to me how she was "feeling". I felt like a jerk.

I sat outside and considered her perspective and her view and thought of how I could acknowledge her fears and her sense of loss and I realized that I too am reacting to fear. Fear of the unknown, loss of control, and my own life experiences.

I thought about how to apologize and when I came to write her note and acknowledge her points, she had already messaged me with the same attitude. A thoughtful review of her own side of the conversation, where she had insisted that I agree with her fears and her own emotional out pouring.

I wrote back right away, with the same information about my side. And I felt thankful for my friends and family that challenge me, that consider their own words are who are mature enough to teach me another side of the same debate.

My closest friends are those who allow me to be wrong and who will stick to the discussion until we work it out. I can't imagine wanting to surround myself with people who never challenge my point of view.

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...fighting I ignored her true feelings and focused on data...

I'm definitely guilty of this myself. Almost always... in almost everything.

An apropos quote from one of my favorite authors of all time:

A Letter on Religion, 1918; - H.P. Lovecraft:
...
And if there be any less obvious forces, I desire to know them and their relation to me as well. Foolish, do I hear you say? Undoubtedly! I had better be a consistent pragmatist: get drunk and confine myself to a happy, swinish, contented little world—the gutter—till some policeman’s No. 13 boot intrudes upon my philosophic repose. But I cannot. Why? Because some well-defined human impulse prompts me to discard the relative for the absolute. You would encourage me as far as the moral stage. You would agree with me that I had better see the world as it is than to forget my woes in the flowing bowl. But because I have a certain momentum, and am carried a step further from the merely relative, you frown upon me and declare me to be a queer, unaccountable creature, “immersed…in the VICIOUS abstractions of philosophy!”
...

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