Friendship is Geometry
I’m certainly the last person to be comparing friendship and geometry given my blatantly unsuccessful dysfunctional relationship with the high math art.
But, putting that aside, I’ve noticed lately that friendship is less about simple math, adding and subtracting those people who remain or cease to remain relevant in our lives, but is about geometric circles.
Not circles such as “the circles you travel in,” those are for the most part borne out of interests and career-related interactions.
I’m talking about friendships that endure for years depending on where in the circles you fall.
Take the following example: my wife and I have become friends with another couple for the last 10 years, particularly heightened by geography and the pandemic.
We had the recent good fortune to share a special life event with them which involved one of their children having earned a special honor. This was cause for a celebration that we were happy to be included among their friends.
The event was very special, and the gathering was most convivial. Little did I know, this event would be the seeds of the theory I’m presenting to you now. In attendance were people close to the family, but from varying degrees of “closeness,” hence, “the circles.”
Some went back as far as elementary school while others, us, were relative “newbies” at a single decade. While we were included in the “circumference” of the major circle, the concentric circles broke down into groups by the length of friendship and types of bonds.
It became ultra-clear to me when the groups eventually broke out into smaller bunches. I found myself weaving in and out of various groups trying to find some common ground or “stickiness” either by “interest in the conversation” or, for me, “exoticness of the conversation” which has always attracted me to join in.
When I ventured to another part of the house, the rooftop to be exact, there was a particular group who had gathered together. This was the group bound by common professional history.
Our host, who fancies himself a bit of a raconteur, was keeping the group banter going regaling them with stories about situations they all shared — some professional, some personal.
Let me digress for a moment — My joke about such situations I equate to being a spouse or date at someone else’s office function. Most of the exchanges would be about such stimulating conversation high points as “how about the time Fincher sent the wrong file to Otis,” or “remember when Winchell forgot to order paper clips and the boss had a hissy.” My empathy always went out to the spouse or date who knows absolutely nothing about any of these occurrences and could only be bored to the point of near coma to have to stand in the group, watery drink in hand, listening to something they have absolutely no knowledge of and furthermore, could care even less about.
It is these moments I identify with the spouse or date when the conversation makes “inside baseball” seem more accessible.
The point is, “friendships are geometry.” Where in the concentric circles of the people you consider “friends” do you fall? Inner — usually saved for long-standing friends who have managed to survive personal and geographical, not to mention, political affiliation changes. Are you in a circle or two outside of that which usually is demarcated by lesser earned years, or have you moved to one of the outer circles by lack of contact or, dare I say, relevance?
Perhaps you’re simply teetering on a radius that intersects with one of the aforementioned circles because you’re a relatively new addition.
Wherever you fall, it is comforting to know that it has less to do with you and more to do with geometry. You don’t reside in a particular circle because your qualifications only allow entrance in that circle. Those boundaries are set despite your ability to leap from outer to inner. Much about the circle you inhabit is pre-destined by factors totally out of your control.
So, next time you contemplate “where is this friendship going,” re-think the geometric theory of friendship that is behind the entire process. You’ll find acceptance is a lot more meaningful than trying to crossover.
