That's a line I heard from a recent Hidden Brain podcast titled Wellness 2.0: The Art of the Unknown and featuring political scientist Brian Klaas. The line above came from social scientist Scott Page, who underscored the theme of the episode: How we respond to the random events that shape our lives, and how we can turn them to our advantage.
And I listened to this podcast on the way home from seeing my dear friends of over 40 years. It got me thinking about all the things that have transpired in our lives over those 4+ decades and why we've remained friends. It also got me wondering about the line above -- "We control nothing but we influence everything."
My best friend of over 46 years, Robby, broke his neck our senior year in high school. It was spring break, he was a swimmer at a swim meet, and some of the other friends, including me, were at the coast for the day (which for us was a 2.5-hour drive).
If we had only convinced him to skip his meet and come with us.
If he had only followed through on his dive even though he would've been disqualified from that race.
If only...
"We control nothing but we influence everything."
Now, that doesn't mean the outcome would've been any different, because it wasn't, and neither of those things happened. It could've happened at any one of his swim meets. But it didn't. It happened that fateful day, April 18, 1984. He relives that moment in time every time we get together; he relives that moment every single day. We relive it every time we're there with him and talking with him on the phone.
What would've happened if he hadn't broken his neck? His able-bodied physical memory is trapped in that fateful day in April 1984. Like The Police song I heard on the way to his house, King of Pain, "There's a fossil that's trapped in a high cliff wall (that's my soul up there)..."
That's his soul up there. I believe that every cathartic conversation we have with him frees him a little from the high cliff wall. But only a little. A little at a time for over 40 years. And that's the thing about geological time: it's like it's forever compared to our brief existence. No matter how much we chip away with our laughter (and our tears).
Thankfully there's been lots more laughter. Over 40 years of highly (sometimes inappropriate) comedic memories that bring deep-seated guttural laughter and happy tears to our eyes (and that aren't ready for primetime; we're our own late-night SNL production). Our teen kids have gotten in on the act asking me, "How are your boyfriends?"
"My boyfriends are great," I say, even though all us boyfriends have had those "what if" moments throughout our lives, and collectively our learned experience of what we actually controlled versus what we have actually influenced leaves us to the same conclusion year after year: that we are stalwart friends.
So, when we were out for dinner during our latest visit with Robby, the server asked us, "What's the occasion?"
"Friendship," I said emphatically.
The guys teased me for that, but they knew I was right. We are men of an influencer age, and that includes the sustained influence of our mutual love and respect for one another. Blessings to my boyfriends.
Other past posts about and related to these friends of mine:
- Making a Dent
- Men of a Stand-up Age
- Men of a Vulnerable Age
- Endless Possibilities Actually
- Able-Bodied Grateful
- Men of Our Present Age
- The #MeToo Guys
- Men of a Women's Age
- Men of a Consequential Age
- Grown Men Friends and Fathers
- Like Men Knowingly Bound to Their Future
- Because That's How It Works With The Guys That Work
- Big Heart Love to My Class of 1984
- Men of An Unremarkable Age
- Being What Happens Next
- Daddy Day in Monterey
