i had a good chat with one of my best friends on wednesday. he and i are about half way through a project that is demanding performance from us which neither has yet delivered. we are not in this alone, there are lots of people involved, and of course our friends, lovers and family are right there with us for better or worse. in order to survive this with any faint hope of coming out healthy, we have taken to weekly meetings where we assess our progress and talk openly and bluntly about what we are dealing with.
on this project what we are finding out is that when we work as intensively at reaching a high goal, then, the time for egoism hits high on the demand function, and we are left really wishing that those who supposedly would provide nurturance, that is, family, spouse, lovers, would be able to just listen to our ranting, just listen, not judge, not criticize, and above all, not take it in and make our intensity and occasional lack of rational, the source of a relationship crisis. we are damned egoists, it just isn't personal. in part we have this, and then again we do not have it, and the truth is that now we are rather demanding, we do not want any additional stress other than the one that we have imposed on ourselves, the stress of the egoist bent on reaching a goal. we do not have the time, and we make the time, we meet early in morning, at lunch time, on the train, or at the end of the day, and we pass review on accomplishments, targets, breakdowns, and frustrations of the week. he listens, i listen, we take turns, we ask each other what he needs now and then, we ask each other what is nagging, and we listen. we listen, and we ask questions. we both have something precious vested in each other. we are friends, best of friends, one of a kind, intimate friends. like all friendship, it is always one of a kind.
i can only speak for myself, and here what i feel is that his success is important to me. i wonder why? why would i be so interested in my best friend's success? i do not have much of an answer. i know just know that his success is important to me.
i walked through town on saturday, in the rain and in love. on saturday morning i spent what much have been an hour on the phone with a man i met recently, somebody whom i really do not know. it is wonderfully delightful to discover somebody new, to talk openly, to try to feel that other expression of being human, that other experience of existence on that side, and to touch base on what we share, what our dreams are. i shared with him what i had shared with my friend on wednesday about wishing to have a nurturing relationship where, yes a relationship is a place, we can just be ourselves with all our glory and all our shortcomings, where we are free to say what we need to say, and where we do not need to say anything, and either way the overflow or the absence of communication will not cause a relationship crisis. i found myself getting the same kind of agreement that i got on wednesday. i found it interesting that i get the same resonance from both a long term intimate friend and somebody whom i have barely met, and that the three of us have the same desires.
buoyed by a delightful morning conversation, warmed by a sprinkle of rain on a late summer afternoon i walked through town, and it looked different. i went to a café where i often go, had an expresso and read the paper. i found an interview with paul nizon that fascinated me. i ran out of the café and went and bought his latest novel das fell der forelle (translation: the trout's fur) and rushed to the next café to start reading it. i ordered a mineral water. sat there for a good hour, and then there comes in this fellow whom i have know for years through my involvement in politics. this means that he and i are members of the same party. i had not seen him for about two years, so there was a lot to catch up on, and we did not even touch on politics. we both wanted to read, and we agreed to first chat and then read while sitting at the same table. indeed much has changed, he has quit his not so shabby job with the federal government and is now doing research at the university and working on a doctorate. it is a small world, i know his thesis advisor well. this fellow and i do share something very peculiar, we are rather odd swiss nationals, he is a very dark mulatto born in switzerland, and i was not even born here but you can not tell this by the color of my skin. i imagine that this must have been quite an interesting scene to observe: he arrives and for a few minutes we engage in a rather animated dialogue, then i go back to my reading of paul nizon's novel, and he starts on his paper. we do this for a good hour, and then we chat again, say good bye. he leaves, a few minutes later i do the same. somehow the nicest things in life are all titled "no comment," she writes.
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