A Post of Thanks

Last Tuesday I got my wisdom teeth removed. The procedure is not news: 85% of people get them removed during a lifetime. I even have some older friends at school who had already gotten them removed during the school year. Nevertheless, the popularity of the procedure still failed to abate my fear of surgeries. 

I don’t like needles. Furthermore, I had never been put to sleep by anesthesia before. For a week before the surgery, I kept wondering what would happen the anesthesia didn’t work on me. I could almost imagine myself sitting on the dental chair 30 minutes after the injection still happily chatting with the doctors, their heads shaking, wondering why I wasn’t falling asleep. Gracefully, this didn’t happen. I think I was out in about 15 seconds. 

While the surgery itself passed as if it never happened, recovery has been more painful and real. I’ve been taking penicillin 4 times a day, every six hours since my surgery. This requires a dosage early in the morning. My mom has been guiding me every step of the way through my recovery. I’m thankful for my her for waking up each morning at 6 AM to bring those 2 mLs of bitter red liquid and a chilled glass of water to bed so that I can sleep in.  I am thankful for my mom for cutting the watermelon into smaller chunks so that I could consume it more easily. I’m thankful for my mom for talking with me as I sat in the bathroom with a hot towel on my bruised jaw. Thank you, Mom, for making my recovery that much more smooth.  

The Nature of Agreeability

Most of us have been taught from a young age to stand up for what is right and to speak for ourselves. We practice self-advocacy, expressing our opinions, and disagreeing when things don’t go right. This is good in all, I’ve discovered lately, until we try to start having conversations. 

There is a 40-page book that explains how to develop better people skills. Written by Les Giblin, a former member of the military, one of the first techniques Skill with People suggests is to adopt an agreeable nature. When I first read that, it made total sense to me. After all, we like when people agree with what we say. But then I thought about it for a minute and suddenly things weren’t so clear. What if someone says something racially charged? What if they spill out the wrong facts? What if they keep repeating something that is factually incorrect? I struggled to find instances where disagreeing was appropriate. 

Some things hinder agreement. I’ve noticed that passion often gets in the way of being agreeable at least for myself. Sometimes it feels as if I’ve simply done too much research on X to comfortably allow another person to drop the wrong facts. 

I’ve been observing my friends, particularly the ones who I get along with the most. There’s one friend of mine whom I met this summer and being agreeable is his strength in social interactions. He’ll never say “you’re wrong” and he’ll rarely correct you. I’m sure we’ve all spoken wrong facts but he’ll never cherry-pick or point out the small stats we mess up, focusing instead on the bigger picture of the conversation. Every criticism and suggestion is given lightly, inviting the recipient to judge whether to accept, decline, or just keep moving on in the conversation. His suggestions stick for receptive people and slips for those who are more interested in telling their story out. But his agreeability is subtle. You wouldn’t even notice him being agreeable unless you analyzed his word choice. 

Other times, when I’m walking in the city with friends, it’s difficult for all of us to agree on where to dine. 

Person 1: “I think eating here would be great!”. 

Person 2: “Yeah I think so too. Maybe we should keep walking around to see if there’s anywhere else”.

Even a conversation simple as that could indicate that a Person 2 didn’t want to eat at the restaurant. Instead, they avoided offending Person 1 by suggesting another plan. The people around me are some of the best role models I know. They’re eloquent in disagreement and they’re sensitive not to offend. They’ll avoid saying flat out, I disagree, sounding dubious about a suggestion instead. 

When I thought about Les Giblin’s point about being agreeable, I can see how wise that piece of advice is. My confusion perhaps lay when/where it is appropriate to disagree. We’re taught to stand up for ourselves against mistreatment and cruelty. We should disagree–in fact, fight–for morally disgraced actions. Disagreements against large scale cruelty drive society forward and change our morale for the better. Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, and the civilians during the Russian Revolution righteously expressed their disagreement with the way things were in society. And that makes sense. 

I’ve learned that petty disagreements are what tear relationships apart the most. After all, who likes to be corrected or have an argument about which shelf Whole Foods stocks the chocolate bars? I suppose being agreeable is being less picky about others. It’s about holding oneself to high standards without imposing excessive control over others. Agreeability is almost like skimming over the details so that conversations move forward, directing focus towards the bigger picture of the conversation. 

“As long as you live, never forget that any fool can disagree with people. It takes a wise person, a shrewd person, a big person, to agree – particularly when the other person is wrong”.

Friendship is an ongoing decision

We had been best friends until middle school took us separate ways. Z and I hung out frequently, we told each other just about everything, and we supported each other as we grew. My elementary school best friend and I have stayed fairly close since we parted ways in middle school. We text each other and stay up to date with each other through social media.

Z and I meet up once or twice every year during the summer/holiday seasons when I’m back from school.  I met up with Z yesterday afternoon, an event that sparked this post. Even though we no longer attend the same school (and hadn’t been since 4th grade), live in different towns, and lead separate lives, our physical distance has not affected our friendship as it does for many. 

Very few of my friends are long distance. Perhaps a part of me has found it difficult to maintain close relationships when I can’t interact regularly in person. Certain events bring me together with another person: school, camps, athletics, etc. But I’ve discovered how a lot of these friendships wither with time. Getting back together with Z yesterday afternoon reminded me of the endless possibilities even in a long-distance relationship. I’m in close relationships with a couple of other friends whom I still see once or twice a year. They, along with Z, have shown me something important about friendships: it’s an ongoing decision. 

To be friends, to have a relationship, even to love, are ongoing decisions that one makes when a tree falls in the middle of a road. It’s after a lighting storm and the tree is split from its stump. The rainwater makes the dirt on the pathway muddy. It’s difficult to trudge through, but at the end of a storm, two people stand before the fallen tree. There are ways around this tree and the mud. There are also ways to passively wait. Those with whom I climb over the tree remain close friends; distance, differing interests, and time have little effect on the spirit of the past. I am lucky to have a couple of close friends whom I’ve been able to keep through our once-a-year get-togethers, texts, and social media.

Unfortunately, we don’t always manage to find the strength to climb over that tree. When we fail to do so, we can only passively wait for fate to bring us back together. This is the biggest reason why I’ve lost connection with some of my friends. Whether it’s the little strength that we began the climb with or the little faith we have in successfully climbing over the tree, I don’t believe there is any inherent catalyst that drives friends apart. Neither distance nor time is powerful enough to break apart a friendship if both parties proactively make the ongoing decision to reach out when they haven’t connected in a while or spend a few hours together once a year. Friendships require time but they also require proactivity and the desire to stay together. 

I suppose ongoing decisions and proactivity extend well beyond merely friendships. They are the core of life. Merely finding the impetus to wake up in the morning after a hard night only to go back to school, work, etc. is an ongoing decision. Making the ongoing decision to problem solve through difficulties and work for the betterment of ourselves helps us make the ongoing decision to stay alive. Take this as a grain of salt as I’m a high schooler and I still have much to experience in life. What I do know is that the friends whom I’ve kept connecting with after our lives took separate turns have jumped over the fallen tree with me.