Friends in Spirit

Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about friends, the meaning of friendship, the immense influence friends have had on me, and the possibility that I might have influenced them, too. This mutuality is the basis of friendship, isn’t it? Sometimes one is talking, talking, talking, while the other is listening closely; other times the roles are reversed. Yet the mutual sense of connectedness drives the relationship and keeps it living.

I decided a while ago that I want to give a “graduation” gift to the members of my spiritual companions training course. Closing gifts are a long-standing tradition among theatre people; that only just now popped into my mind; perhaps that’s where the seed of this idea was planted. Whether it is or not, the intuition to mark the occasion with a memento is strong.

But what to give? At first I thought I could make something for each person. Well, yes, I could make earrings for each woman; but then what could I make for the men?  These are not  cufflinks type of guys, nor are their ears pierced. Well, maybe a book for the men. . .

Then I woke up suddenly one night from a deep sleep, feeling that I needed to read Musings of a |Mediocre Gardener again. I’ve read it many times, since it first came to me as self-published, photo-copied booklets, three in all, from their author, my friend of forty years, Dori Dana Hudson. The clear, direct, simple language of her writing belies the profound and deeply spiritual nature of her reflections.

Dori was, in fact, my inspiration to take the spiritual companions training. She became a minister in her fifties, something she had wanted to do for a very long time. She took the plunge, and I admired her for having the courage. Her leap inspired me to jump off the cliff, too, and trust that God would hold me up.

Reading her book, on the train, on the way to see a play in London, I was again brought to tears as I read; and her messages had even more meaning and truth for me than ever before. I was suddenly certain that I had to share it with everyone in my spiritual companions course.

But something else happened. Reading the book reminded me of the deep spiritual connection I have always felt with Dori and, to a lesser extent, but still important, to her husband, Rob. From the day we met, in June, 1971, I knew we would be lifelong friends. (I also knew that Dori and Rob would end up together and said so.)

To be honest, I cannot remember when we last saw each other in person. I remember the visits, but not in any time order. Driving across country, my then-husband and I stopped to visit Rob and Dori and their baby son Andrew in Louisville, Kentucky. (Andrew is now a grown man, graduate of Fordham University, and out in the world.) And Dori and Rob came to San Francisco for a visit once. I have a photo of Dori crossing the arched bridge in the Japanese Tea Garden in Golden Gate Park.

Even without the face-to-face presence, I still feel a deep, strong connection with them, an outpouring of love, of gratitude for their presence in my life. Our souls keep in touch.

Susan B Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton

So closely interwoven have been our lives, our purposes, and experiences that, separated, we have a feeling of incompleteness –united, such strength of self-association that no ordinary obstacles, difficulties, or dangers ever appear to us insurmountable.                                        –Elizabeth Cady Stanton

Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony were arguably the founders of the modern women’s movement in the United States. This is a quote from Stanton about her friendship with Anthony.

Found in the book, 365 Reflections on Love and Friendship, publ. Adams Media Corporation, 1998.

Friendship and Spirit

A friend is someone who leaves you with all your freedom intact but who, by what [s]he thinks of you, requires you to be fully who you are. –John L’Heureux

Books by John L’Heureux include poetry (Quick as Dandelions, Rubrics for a Revolution, No Place for Hiding) and numerous novels.

If you look really hard, you can find copies of Picnic in Babylon, his journal of his last three years of seminary before ordination as a Jesuit priest. (He later left the priesthood.)  Of all his books, this one’s my favourite because it makes me laugh and think at the same time; and the books he reads are fabulous. He enjoys women writers– Flannery O’Connor, Muriel Spark, Doris Lessing, for instance.  He also reads Carolyn Kizer, one of my favourite poets (see Mermaids in the Basement).

Quakerly Christmas

©2008, Ramona K. Silipo. All rights reserved.

Friends (Quakers) have a testimony against holding special days (holidays), presumably based on the concept that each day is a blessing and that we should have one standard of behaviour for every day of the year. This means that many Friends do not celebrate holidays such as Easter, Christmas and Thanksgiving (USA and Canada). However, many Friends do celebrate, albeit modestly in most cases. My home meeting in California, for instance, has a Christmas event presented by the children, followed by a pot luck meal. This year, there is carol singing each First Day for those who want to join in. And so on. As with all the testimonies, it is left to each person to discern what, if any, recognition of Christmas to express.

My experience, both before and after becoming a Friend, is that nothing in my personal or family Christmas traditions seems antithetical to living as a Quaker. As a matter of fact, I find that at Christmas time many people are more alert and open to answer that of God in everyone; and people are often more aware of their need to be generous, forgiving and patient with others. I see nothing negative in setting aside a specific time of day or year to stop and consider how one’s life might be more enlightened and enlightening.

My personal and family traditions are pretty simple: a nativity set from my childhood with candles lit each night, a tree decorated with homemade ornaments and old glass ones as well, inviting people with no family or friends in the area for dinner, and a Christmas Eve with closest friends at which we eat soup and bread for dinner, read Christmas stories and light candles to remember friends who have died during the year. (This began during the early years of the AIDS epidemic, when we lost several friends each year. We’d stand around the table, all too aware that one or two of us would probably not be there the next Christmas. Thank God, we haven’t had to light any candles  for many years now.)

Reading to each other and the children is a lovely bonding activity. Story telling is as ingrained in human history as music, and the stories of Christmas are always a joy to me. Stories are usually more symbolic than literal, so I don’t see that Christmas stories in the form of carols are a threat to good Quaker order in any way

For me, the joys in life are simple– friends, family, dogs (or other pets), good times, talking, laughing, music, theatre, art– nothing spectacular. At Christmas many of these joys are magnified and appreciated more. We all strive for the Quaker ideal of living in the Light every day, but, so far, I’ve not met anyone who’s achieved this ideal. Until we do, it seems not only appropriate but very positive to set aside times, like Christmas, to remember our best moments in life, reinforce long-cherished relationships, and create new opportunities to move forward toward the Light every day.

Selfishness and Self-Sufficiency

©2008, RK Silipo. All rights reserved.

Note to a friend:

Self sufficiency is selfish, in that it denies friends the opportunity to care for you. Independence is good, especially for women. But when we try to do everything for ourselves, we get too self-focused. Not only do we become preoccupied with our needs that are not being met, but we also shut people out by denying to them that we have a problem and need their help. Being a friend is a gift, but allowing someone to be a friend to you is an even bigger gift.

Friendship is never a burden if it’s true and deep. Sometimes it might be a test, or a difficult passage that friends get through together, but not a burden. I do know what your teacher means, though. It is very much a part of your insight right now that you need to be out in the world. Start with your friends, the people you know, and then fan out. Your friends love you no matter what, and will make a bridge for you into the wider world where people might not be so kind and caring.

The thing about a bridge is that you can move across it in both directions– outward into the world, but also back across into the homeland with your friends. You can visit both sides anytime you want.