I'm Funny About My Friends

I’m a people person, through and through, and I plan to remain that way.
Despite my admiration for Buddhists, I’ve decided that I could never become one.
Henepola Gunaratana, a man from Sri Lanka who has spent over 50 years
as a Buddhist monk and teacher of Buddhism, wrote, “We learn to view
our own reactions to stimuli with calm and clarity,” which brings
about “the bliss of emancipation from obsessions.”

Now “calm and clarity” sound like good qualities, and “the bliss of
emancipation from obsessions” sounds downright irresistible, but these
goals are simply not strong aspects of my rather emotional
personality.

I’d never make a good Catholic nun, either, I’m afraid, or Muslim, for
Islam has a comparable teaching, called “Zuhd,” or absence of
attachment to this world.

No, my world is full of attachments, as my family and friends will
testify. I am still in touch with friends from early childhood, grade
school, high school, college, graduate school and all of the years to
follow. I send out about 240 Christmas letters each year, and
intentionally send them early so that my family and friends still have
time to write back before the Christmas rush.

But then my mother was also a people person who stayed in
correspondence with friends from her whole lifetime. I often think
about how she would have loved the convenience of emailing for all of
the same reasons that I do.

Another strong reason that I’d not be a good traditional Buddhist or
Christian or Muslim is my doubts about--or at least lack of emphasis
upon--a “next world” or reincarnation. I grew up a liberal
Congregationalist, but for the past decade I’ve been a member of the
Unitarian Universalist Church--and feel right at home there.
We Unitarians concentrate strongly on this world, seeking “Justice,
equity and compassion in human relations.” There’s no doctrine either
advocating or denying the existence of an afterlife, but in truth, the
subject is rarely mentioned in sermons or hymns. Rather, we emphasize
“The inherent worth and dignity of every person” and “Acceptance of
one another and encouragement to spiritual growth.”

Rather than yielding to the temptation of being preachy about my
emphasis on people and on this world, however, I’ll simply close with
a favorite poem I wrote many years ago.

I'M FUNNY ABOUT MY FRIENDS
I'm funny about my friends.
Even if you move to Burma and start a shrimp farm
One hundred and seventy-two miles from the nearest village,
Address unknown,
And you don't write to me for thirty-five years,
Someday a Burmese mail carrier on bicycle will find you,
And, bowing slightly, he will hand you a bundle of letters and poems from me.
I know, I know,
You may throw my letters and poems, unread, into your bait bucket,
And you may not think of me once for another thirty-five years,
But just the thought of you
Smiling as you pull bamboo cages from the ocean foam
In the glow of an Asian sunset
Will warm my caring heart.
But then, I'm funny about my friends.