I always wonder when is the time when you look at a friendship and say, "there's absolutely nothing left that I can do." Is that ever appropriate? If you are truly friends who supposedly care about each other, should you ever reach a point when you just give up and walk away? I would hope not, but I don't think that's the case. Sometimes the things that have happened during the course of the friendship are just too hurtful for one or both parties: reconciliation is just not possible. But if that's the case, is there still some benefit to some sort of closure that is more positive? Even if it's not possible to be friends anymore, wouldn't leaving the relationship with a decent interaction be better than having the last memory being of something horrible?
I think this is where the "golden rule" really comes into play. If we truly believe we should treat others as least as good as we treat ourselves, we need to constantly evaluate our actions to this standard. Would I have wanted that done or said to me? Would I have liked to have been given the benefit of the doubt? And then of course we also have the "platinum rule" where we are challenged to treat others better than we would treat ourselves. For me, the platinum rule is even more meaningful as I don't always treat myself very well. I say things to myself that I would never allow anyone else to say. However, I can set a standard of treating others better than they expect to be treated: this is truly serving the neighbor.
During the past few months, I have wanted to ask my "offenders" the two questions that I wrote above and many more: Would you have done to yourself what you did to me? Would you have liked to have been given the benefit of the doubt? Would you have been liked to been approached with love instead of having assumptions made about you, your motives, and your feelings? But I will probably never get the chance to ask or receive answers to those questions. It takes courage to face someone that you have hurt. It takes even more courage to approach that person will an air of humility and openness. As humans, we want to protect ourselves and our defense mechanisms are extraordinarily strong. We attack the others before they attack us, sometimes without all the data we need. There are no winners when that happens. And the losses are great on both sides.
I think living losses like divorce or loss of a trusted friend are especially hard. The betrayal and abandonment are harsh. People who you thought could rely on fail you, hurt you, and even blame you. When you needed them the most, they decided that being right was more important than doing the right thing. We all make mistakes. We all do things that in hindsight, we would do differently. That's life. However, when we leave open loops with people, we risk the chance of denying the consequences of our words and actions. I've been guilty of this in my life, too. It's easier to sweep conflicts and actions under the rug and pretend they didn't happen. Or convince ourselves the other person is over reacting to the circumstances. But I wasn't being a true friend when I did that. I wasn't treating the other person like I would like to be treated. I certainly didn't treat them better than I would like to be treated.
Healing from my own living loss, I have found some refuge in prayer. I can lift my feelings up and ask for God to carry them for awhile. I have also discovered who my true friends are. Those who care about me and allow me to be me with all my defects and faults. And in them, I have found that I still can trust others with my fears, failures, and frustrations and still be accepted and loved. In addition, I have found an inner strength in myself that I didn't know existed. They say that gold doesn't reach it's full beauty until it's been fired. That's another "golden" rule that I'm going to remember: that through fire all our impurities are washed away and what's left is beauty that shines for all to see.
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