Radical friendship insights from my father

My father is a 75-year-old man who loves bow ties, bel canto opera, and ancient military history.  

He also, I have come to realize, has some pretty great insights on friendship.

As a young lawyer at a big firm, my dad always was always able to find someone down the hall to have lunch with. (For the modern lawyers reading this, dad would say: This was a different time. Lawyers at big firms actually took lunch breaks back then.)

But a decade into his career, my dad went out on his own. He got his own office, hung his shingle, and…found that he wasn’t seeing friends as nearly much. He was kind of lonely.

So he started inviting people out to lunch.

He made a list of everyone he wanted to see more of, and went down the list — calling people up and scheduling several lunches a week, as a way of breaking up his workday.

And when he finished the list? He started again at the top.

As a result, my dad had several social lunches per week. For decades.

He’s a pretty upbeat guy, which I attribute to many things — but I genuinely think that one of them is his regular social interaction.

…

He and I were talking about his lunches recently, and there were two things that I thought I could learn from them. Maybe they will be helpful to you, too:


1. My dad is extremely intentional about his friendships.

In fairness, I don’t think my dad would use the word “intentional” — that’s the type of word that his Life Coach Daughter likes.

But what other word can you use, for a man who has a literal list of friendships he wants to maintain and goes to do the list on a regular basis, making sure he calls up each person?

And then starts again at the top?

2. My dad is comfortable doing 100% of the initiating.

This is, in my opinion, the most radical point of all. For virtually all of his lunches, my dad initiates the social plans.

I asked him, once: Dad, do you ever worry that maybe these people aren’t initiating back, because they don’t like you as much as you like them?

To that, he gave a good-natured shrug.

“I guess I could worry about that,” he told me, “but then I might stop asking people out to lunch. And what good would that do me? Or them?”

He told me that at least some friends will casually mention that they don’t socialize that much, with anyone. This makes sense to me; the average American spends less than a half hour a day on any non-work socializing and communicating, which includes time with one’s spouse.

And the others? Dad says: If they seem to be having a nice time with me, and I’m having a nice time with them, I don’t worry about whether they’re initiating or not. 

Truthfully, this is not how I’ve typically approached friendships. Quite the opposite, in fact.

In the past, I’d be okay initiating a few extra times, but if I felt like as doing most of the initiating…I’d stop reaching out to that person. I’d worry that secretly, they didn’t like me as much as I liked them, and that idea made me feel uncomfortable.

I’ve been thinking that perhaps I shouldn’t worry about initiating so much since reading Shasta Nelson’s thoughts about friendship, but having my dad as a real, living-breathing-role model pushed me even further in that direction.

…

And one more thing:

For those of you with jaws agape, thinking: I definitely don’t have time for several social lunches a week — I hear you. As an introverted, working mom with two young kids…I hear you.

Even my dad’s lunch frequency varied. He spent the last decade of his career as a judge — with less lunchtime flexibility than as a self-employed person — his frequency of social lunches decreased dramatically.

So if you’re in a busy season of life, don’t get too fixated on “several lunches per week.” I think the two lessons still hold, for however often you are able to socialize.

…

I offer my dad’s story to you, today, if it’s a helpful nudge:

Could it be that the missing ingredient to a satisfying, meaningful, social life is being willing to intentionally decide who you want to see, and then be willing to do 100% of the work, to see them? You might not have to do all the work – you probably won’t! — but just a willingness?

On one level, that idea feels radical. (At least to me!)

But what if it isn’t? What if it’s just a willingness to say:

Most people are lonely.

Many people are bad at initiating.

Can I help them, and me, feel more socially connected?

Because, as a reminder: regular friendship interaction can be an astonishingly effective tool for happiness, stress relief, and even momentum in other areas of your life.

Should we all channel Carlton Seaver this week?

(If so, I suggest this bow tie.)

As always, I’m rooting for you.

Katie