Lately I have been seriously considering what it means to be a friend. The obvious adjectives spring into mind: Loyal, trustworthy, loving, etc. What I have come to desire more than (but along with) all these is depth.

Depth itself is a concept I find difficult to define in terms of a relationship with someone, but when I'm thinking about it I imagine being able to see through someone's body to their core, where it's usually dark and subsequently incomprehensible (for who can really know what lies at the center of a man?).  I believe real depth is attained in the quest for depth. By seeking out a more meaningful, thoughtful, insightful relationship with someone, one is developed.

This has a lot to do with how one views other people. If I were to think of or expect other people to be unchanging and immovable in their behaviors and attitudes, I would probably have a difficult time maintaining a significant friendship (or two), because I would have the perfect excuse for my own behavior: "That's just how people are." I do not believe in this. I expect people to change over time, and if they don't I wonder what's wrong. I would like to clarify that I am not suggesting that people ought to change their personalities over time; it's difficult to say what constitutes personality (even after taking a class solely on the concept) whether it is composed of our attitudes and behaviors or if it predicts our attitudes and behaviors. For the sake of this entry, we'll say that personality is relatively stable over time and is excluded from the list of things I expect to change. After all, if I disliked someone's personality, I would not enter into any sort of relationship with them in the first place.

I expect people to change, and in more serious relationships I might demand it, in fact I think we all ought to on some level. One of my dearest friends and his wife said that love other than for your children or blood relatives does not need to be unconditional. There really ought to be conditions, and there usually are. Take traditional marriage vows, for example.  Each person makes a series of promises, laying out for the other their end of the bargain with the hovering subtext of, "if you break this vow this partnership is over." In a much less legal sense, if your partner fails to meet one of your greatest needs in such a significant relationship, you may find it considerably difficult to continue loving them as much as before, thus seeking a way out.

Depth, in this case, stems from the long-dead, beaten horse of a buzz word: Communication. I have failed enough in this area that I'm just now beginning to grasp the measure of its importance. If you refuse to open your mouth and make sounds that express how something is not right, and continue to make similar sounds that express what needs to be done about it, you have failed the first step in communication (the other step is listening, I think you can figure it out). In an age where superficial communication (phone calls, texts, Facebook, email, etc.) is instant and everywhere, so little thought is put in to what we say on a daily basis that I believe we are susceptible to forgetting how to tell others what we're thinking and feeling. I have begun to practice this by starting at a very basic level of stating the obvious. It usually comes out cheesy, but it's coming from a very sincere place.  Sarcasm is comfortable, feelings are uncomfortable. I am exhausted from hiding entirely behind humor, so when I want to tell someone that I'm thankful for their friendship, it will come out in very plain terms. "I am really thankful for your friendship, [name of friend]." Until I can learn to convey such important sentiments sincerely, clearly, and without cheapening it with sarcasm, they will have to remain simple.

I do not believe that everyone is entitled to their own opinion, because I do not believe that any one opinion is superior to another, especially when that opinion has potential to harm others. Opinions rarely derive from facts, and I find that most arguments about opinions stem from a miscommunication of factual information. I digress. An individual who will not hear a friend's opinion and open themselves up to the possibility that their own might be changed by it is probably too stubborn to A) carry out a decent conversation/debate or B) have any very close friends.

A final area of importance (and yet another horribly over done buzz word) is accountability. I have only recently figured out how this is actually accomplished, and it basically breaks down to whether or not you're willing to let someone call you out on your bullshit. This does not simply mean confessing to a friend what you have done, or them catching you "in the act." It is a combination of those things, with you being willing to come to them before you commit acts of bullshit. Accountability has to be able to travel both ways in order to work. I am not interested in a friendship where I feel the need to walk around on eggshells just to keep a sensitive or temperamental friend in a good mood. I am interested in putting how ever much effort it takes to get to a place with such a friend where accountability is welcome and the relationship flourishes.

Effortful changes can lead to depth. Depth most definitely can lead to remarkably satisfying relationships.  This is what I believe, this is what I expect. This is what I'm aiming for. Close friends, you have been warned.

This happens all the time:  I start watching something on TV when it's already late, grossly underestimate how tired I am, and try to convince myself that I can just, "follow along with my eyes closed."  Last night I did this while watching "Dexter," and while I know this story would be more interesting if it meant a crazy dream about murdering someone, it was pretty typical.

I am able to follow along for what seems like five minutes, but is really more like thirty seconds.  I think I am accurately picturing the action in my head as the audio continues, but I am way off.  Then I fall asleep so quickly that I'm no longer perceiving sounds, and wake up as soon as credit roll (they're always louder, anyway), wondering what I've missed.  It certainly doesn't seem like much.

The other night I did this to the last 10 minutes of an episode of "Mad Men" but was forcing my eyes open ever couple minutes or so.  I kept thinking, "Oh, they're just going upstairs and not saying anything, I don't have to be awake for this," at which point I fell back asleep and missed out on some very realistic vomiting--not that I'm complaining.  I only know this because I re-watched it the next morning and was surprised I didn't even hear it.  Vomit scenes usually stick with me, too.

The bellwether event that marks the onset of Autumn has always been the first fireplace in the woodstove.  It is a more accurate measure, I think, than simply saying "September 22 is the first day of Autumn," especially after this year, when that particular day clocked in at about 93 degrees Fahrenheit here in Oregon.  Whatever, calendar, when it finally gets COLD, that's the first day.

It's always a bittersweet season for me.  I love watching the leaves turn colors and littler the ground on dry days so passing cars stir them up into a flurry.  I feel a little sad that the days are shorter, colder, more wet.  That I have to start bundling up more aggressively and that it takes my body a long time to adjust to temperature changes makes the whole process all the more upsetting. 

But soon it will be Winter, and I'll miss those "balmy" Fall days when there were still leaves on the trees and I didn't have to simply daydream about snuggling with someone in front of the fireplace to keep warm; it would be a reality.