Friends are diaries

who listen, perhaps respond

I know that they're there.

j
I just received the above haiku from a friend, and it means the world to me. I have another friend, who reminds me of this one, who years ago I nicknamed "The Vault." He is a master at holding the secrets of others. And over time I have had the honor of holding his truths close to my vest , as well. What an honor it is to be friend in life. What a relief it is to know that you have people you can spill to.
o j
There is so much that comes to mind right now, but I feel like presenting only pieces, hints, and headlines. I wonder about whether I should ask every time I post something by someone without using their name. Twice in my blogging history when I did that I was asked to not do it again (later I discovered that the two requesters were dear friends).
o oo
Almost twenty years ago I taught a little girl who was in sixth grade (who must be older now too, though she's frozen in my mind at that age). She shared some of her remarkable poetry with me, and I wonder sometimes if I can share it without using her name, but giving credit as I just described her. When I applied for social work school (also years ago, sigh) (did you know that when I write the word sigh, it means that I actually just sighed - sigh) I wrote about that student and others like her who were comfortable sharing with me.
o o
There's a story from a Chaim Walder book (a dear friend that I told this to liked it better the way I processed it than the way the story appeared on the page) that comes to mind about a teacher in a resource room that kids approach filled with fear:
o
The students don't want help, they don't want to speak up. They await the bell and then they ask with anxious eyes, "Can I go now?" While they sit in stoic silence, the warm teacher asks them to write about themselves, their secrets, their fears.
0
She shows them a locked metal box and promises that the paper they write on and fold with their hands will be seen by no human eye once they put in in the locked box. Each visitor writes and deposits their note in the box of secrets. Each individual leaves and then decides that this teacher's space is "not bad," and it goes up from there.
o
Another teacher, in a moment of jealousy veiled as curiosity asks, "Why do the students like you?" The teacher tells about the box. The other teacher misunderstands. She thinks that the first teacher's secret must be that she reads what the children write and then manipulates and utilizes that information.
o
It backfires. She approaches the other teacher, who explains the power of the lock on the box, the element of the trust.
o
Many years later the teacher with the box (by this time, many boxes) of secrets is ill and presents the other teacher with a last request. Many tears are cried as the living teacher opens the boxes and pours the secrets into a soon to be sealed grave, to be buried with their trusted keeper for eternity.
o
I was thinking about secrets and poems and friends and students and trust. Somehow in my mind and heart this relates to personality types. Are you familiar with DISC ? It stands for Dominance, Influence, Steadiness, Compliance. A test reveals your personality inclinations. The words kind of speak for themselves. I recently sat at a simcha next to an old dear friend of an old dear friend. On my other side was the friend who taught me about DISC, together with her husband. They said they felt the strong personality contrast, as they watched me and said friend's friend interact. I've been seeing, and feeling and carrying that for years. He's got to be a D. I'm not a D.
j
Then there's Myers-Briggs, which has four categories and sixteen possible combinations within those categories. I'm an INFP, not so common in the world, but common in my inner circle (which can cause me to forget what the big wold is like, and view things in a skewed way). That means, roughly, that I lean more toward my inner world (Introvert vs. Extrovert), tend to interpret things rather than take in just the facts (iNtuition vs. Sensing), look at contextual factors before I look at black and white logic in making decisions (Feeling vs. Thinking), and like to leave things structurally open in my emotional life (Perceiving vs. Judging).
j
I could write so much more, but also can't. Maybe later. I feel for now, like sending this out there; this is my balloon into the sky, my bottle in the ocean, my blog in the web.
/ll