These words, spoken at a Zoom celebration of life for the sister of a friend of mine, burned into my soul and have coursed through my heart, my mind, and my body for the last several months since I heard them.
Carol, the older sister of my friend Jerry recently died in Montana. She grew up in a loving family but struggled in her childhood with severe learning disabilities, social anxieties, and making and keeping friendships. Her high school guidance counselor told her that she was not college material. However, she persisted and earned a B.S. in Medical Sciences and worked in a hospital lab for many years.
Sometime in her 30's the struggles of life became too much and she quit her job and returned to her parents' home where she lived for many years. Soon after her parents died, she decided to move to Montana, a place she had fallen in love with and had visited numerous times.
Life in Montana was hard, but she found a simple place to live and did odd jobs. It was here that she met Susie who was drawn to Carol. At the Zoom ceremony Susie said that developing a friendship with Carol was challenging at first because of Carol's tough outward demeanor. Over time a close friendship developed but Susie lost her job and moved back home to the Houston area. However, they spoke on the phone pretty much on a daily basis. Susie returned to Montana to visit after Carol was in the hospital because of a serious fall, and she returned again to help Jerry spread Carol's ashes in a remote area where she and Carol had fished and camped. Susie spoke about how much she treasured her friendship with Carol and then said those words: "she taught me a different way to love."
Reflecting on Susie’s words, I realized that I have had many friendships that have taught me a different way to love. Here are just a couple.
Charlie was a long-term hospice patient with some memory issues. He loved to talk and could not remember what stories he had told me. Over the six months that I visited him weekly, I heard some stories almost every week. He would ask, "Did I ever tell you about the time that..." and I would smile and say "No, Charlie, what happened?"
I have another long-time friend who has a diagnosis of schizophrenia, though he believes that his brain has been invaded by aliens. At this point, I cannot say that's impossible. I have been with him through thick and thin and several hospitalizations, once where he was catatonic for more than a day. In the early days of our friendship, I was sometimes patronizing, and he never called me on it, though I think he felt it. I have also learned to be comfortable with long silences when I am with him. These days he is one of my closest friends. He is a long-time meditator and one of the most gentle, kind, and considerate people I have ever met. I have told him more than once that he is my hero for how he has handled his life.
Maria Popova wrote something that I have read in similar form from both Buddhist authors and neuroscientists: "What we see is never raw reality, pure as spacetime — what we see is our interpretation of reality, filtered through the lens of our experience and our conditioned worldview. Always, the way we look at things shapes what we see; often, the lens we mistake for a magnifying glass turns out to be a warped mirror — we see others not as they are but as we are." In this context, to truly love someone is to see and hear them with as few filters as possible.
Susie has helped me to realize that everyone I have come to love has quirks, just as I do, that can be difficult. For example, one person says “no hugs,” another can talk at length about matters that to me are trivial, another frequently interrupts me, another is chronically pessimistic, another gives advice all the time, another is occasionally unintentionally mean, another wants to keep things light, another whines a lot, and on and on. With Susie's statement and advice from many teachers to love the whole person, I am finding that her statement is an invitation to learn a different way to love each person.
It goes even further! This learning to love a different way can also be not just with humans, but also with animals and plants. Near the end of his life, Barry Lopez, a well-known environmental advocate, agreed to an interview. When the writer came to his house, Barry pointed to a fresh Douglas fir stump and said, “We had to put down that tree” just as many people talk about having to put down a beloved pet. Thich Nhat Hanh has spoken for many years about reverence for all beings.