December 08, 2006

In the name of friends

Walking out of my massage treatment this morning I felt like hugging myself. It was a very strange feeling. She obviously had done a good job. Releasing lots of tensions built up over the past few months. Months of worrying. Poor sleep. Uncertainties underneath the continuum of daily tasks and pleasures. It felt so good to feel that warmth towards myself. I don’t remember ever feeling it quite like this before. It was very physical. Sensuous. It felt good. I’ve heard often that emotions can become physical. Illness can come from misguided thoughts. In reverse, healthy thoughts can feel, literally, very good.

It’s always been easier for me to look for this warmth and acceptance from someone else. Only recently am I coming to understand the pleasure of feeling comfortable within myself. But that kind of self-love was labeled conceited in my family. Compliments were to be avoided, to avoid conceit. The result was insecurities and doubts, the opposite of what was intended. In Buddhism there is the term maitri which means loving kindness, gentleness towards oneself and others. Most philosophies/psychologies/religions embrace this idea. It has to start with oneself, otherwise it cannot be genuine towards others. I learn this over and over, especially when I spend time alone—with myself. The need to make friends, first, with oneself.

I was reading this morning that people used to have three close friends. Now most people have only one, maybe two and this is not seen as healthy. We need each other, need to confide, share, enjoy. But how do you define a friend. I have many friends, each bearing different qualities of friendship. Some are more movie friends, some more book friends, some dog friends, some I share more with more often than with others. My friends—well, I have Lila, and yes, I know, she’s a dog, but she is with me a lot, I confide in her, share my home with her and we spend many hours a day, often the most memorable times, together. Another friend of mine, one I’ve know fairly well over the past year—well, our friendship is fading because I have changed so much recently, we no longer feel comfortable with each other. I don’t want the same kind of friendship I seemed to have wanted a year ago. So even friendship is fluid, changes.

It does feel very good to be my own friend. And I'm one person who will always be with me!

Posted by leya at December 8, 2006 08:42 PM