Philosophers come in all shapes and sizes, circles, and at times pop up where you least expect them. Sometimes they come in the form of a dear friend with a floppy ponytail, no real knowledge of where their cell phone or keys are, and a wonderfully charming way of looking at things. I happen to have a friend like this and she once shared with me a belief she has about friends, and I think she might be on to something.
She believes that friends are representative of pieces of attire and that together those around you make up an entire wardrobe. Some friends are like a starched button-down dress shirt, for instance. These are the ones that know exactly who teaches which cardio-blast class on what day, and who sent peanut butter cookies to the peanut-free room party. Efficient task-masters, the buttoned-down comrades, but good to know. Other friends are like that sexy pair of heels that you love to wear, but only on occasion. These friends are fun for a night out, to get dressed up with, chat and drink cocktails, but would just be too tiring and painful if you kept company with them full time. You may trade timeshares with them but never your darkest secrets. Chances are you might have a pal that is like a concert t-shirt, a little bit too wild, too loud, but a really good time. You might not call them first to go to church on Sunday or your family reunion but if you need somebody scrappy on your side, you auto-dial them with a quickness. Hopefully you have a couple sidekicks that are like your go-to pair of jeans, they make your ass....err...life...feel great, you can wear them anywhere, dress them up or down. These friends are predictable, consistent, and good for all occasions. It's possible to be a pair of resilient combat boots, a reserved pearl necklace, a wise hand-knitted sweater, or supportive sports bra. I think my friend the philosopher is most like a pair of Ray Bans. Sunny and bright, cheerful, worn on the funnest of days.
As for me, a resounding theme keeps cropping up. She told me that I was like her very favorite sweatshirt. It didn't matter what she looked like or what kind of day she had. Whenever she put on her favorite sweatshirt it was always comfortable, always fit just right, and always made her feel good. Apparently this is my lot in life, my niche so to speak. Old comfy unpretentious sweatshirt. It wasn't the first time I'd been compared to something similar. I once was told that I was "just as comfortable as an old shoe". An old shoe...what the hell? In the confines of a five minute business call to the corporate office, with a woman whom I'd never met, this person was inviting me to lunch and calling me a shoe. I grinned ear to ear and my heart swelled with pride....to be a shoe, an old comfortable shoe. Some might be insulted or off put by these analogies, preferring to be likened to something more glamorous or more fetching. Not me. To me there is no greater compliment than being some one's favorite comfy sweatshirt or trusted pair of shoes.
The thought has occurred to me that this friendship philosophy is rather fluid. We likely serve different roles with different friends. To one friend I might be that Bon Jovi tee that screams "I rocked your ass off" and to the next person I might be a pair of diamond earrings. It's all relative. Furthermore, I have friends that one day are my sweatpants, another day my business suit, and the next day are my cheer leading uniform. Sometimes all in the same conversation. The greatest part is that together we make up a wardrobe...or at least that's what my friend, the pony-tailed philosopher, thinks, and I think she's on to something.
