I’ve done a lot of thinking about what a friend is in the past year. I made some wonderful friends, lost some wonderful friends, felt wounded and betrayed by friends I opened my heart to and trusted.

This morning, walking in the woods with Maria – she is my lifetime friend –  and the dogs, I thought about what it is that makes a friend.

There is no simple definition of friendship, and like anything else of value, it is different for everyone. We all have different needs, different wants, different hearts and souls.

I especially liked the idea of friendship written by Henri J.M. Nouwen, author of Out Of Solitude:

“When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.”

For me, this is the essence of friendship: openness and trust. A friend is not necessarily someone who comes rushing to your side when there is trouble, but someone who shares our pain with a tender and bounded hand. Friendships are not always what they seem, and trust is hard won.

My friend Paul Moshimer and I were becoming close, sharing our wounds, and when he committed suicide, I loved him no less for it, and I know he loved me,  but  I also realized that I did not really know him, I was so utterly unprepared for the fact that he died and the way that he died that I realized we had not yet earned the trust of one another.

But I also decided I would not be frightened off of friendship and commitment, friendship is a part of life, suffering and disappointment are a part of it, my response is to embrace friendship more deeply, that was Paul’s gift to me. I saw it’s value.

In some ways it was a difficult year. Some people I thought were my friends were not. I felt hurt and used and doubted myself again, as I did after Paul’s death. These friends were not honest, and did not care about me, they wanted something else, something more than me and apart from me. Perhaps they wanted their idea of me, I am not sure and will never know.

This has always been a problem for me, and I have to concede that it is compounded by the fact that I am a minor celebrity. People are often drawn to the idea of me, but not necessarily to me. I have always made people uneasy. What they love is not always me. I wondered once more if the friendship thing was worth the trouble and risk. You do have to open yourself up.

But I did not give up on it, and I will not. Friendship is important, part of the nourishment of the soul necessary to live fully and well. Friendships are the enemies of narcissism and selfishness, good friends pull us out of ourselves and into the world.

When I think of friendship, I sometimes think of Piglet and Pooh, created by A.A. Milne:

“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.
“Pooh!” he whispered.
“Yes, Piglet?”
“Nothing,” said Piglet, taking Pooh’s paw. “I just wanted to be sure of you.”

And I think that’s the thing about friendship. A friend, I suppose, is someone who knows all about you and still loves you. And when and if the point comes that you accept and trust that love, then that is the moment when a friendship is truly born and will last.

“Don’t walk in front of me,” wrote Albert Camus of friendship, “I may not follow. Don’t walk behind me, I may not lead. Walk beside me…Just be my friend.” I like that, it is simple, acceptance and trust.

A friendship is not born of drama.

Friends stand by you in hard times, they don’t take over the hard times for you or take it from you. Friends help you, but also insist that you help yourself. Friends are like parents in a way, the goal is not simply to take care of you every minute, but to help you take care of yourself.

Healthy friendships do not end in anger and confusion.

Lasting friendships are not dependent or co-dependent.

They don’t require your giving pieces of yourself away, or taking more from others than they need to give or should give. You don’t get off the phone wondering what was said or what was meant.  You don’t do he-said, she-said.  Quite the opposite, they are nourishing and affirming. You feel bigger, better, healthier, never diminished.

The best friendships are always bounded. Don’t follow me all day, don’t come running. That is about you, not me. Just  be my friend.

What is a friend? There is nothing I would not do for my friends. And my friends would not permit me to do all that I could do, nor would I accept that from them. Friendship is selfless, if it is to live at all. What you don’t take is as important as what you do.

I have drawn closer to a new friend, a poet and painter and pastor named Tom Atkins, it took us awhile to get to know one another, but I have come to cherish our cups of coffee and lunches together, we have taken the time to open up to one another. He is gentle and authentic. He is accepting.

This morning, he wrote a beautiful Open Letter To His Depression.  He is a brave man, a warrior for life. His creative spark is fierce. Any man who can do that is worth knowing, and we share a passion for openness.

He has become a friend. Just like that.

I am making progress, slowly but steadily, and maybe that is the lesson.  I make a lot of mistakes, but I am learning all the time. Friendships are rare, they can come slowly. They do not fall off of trees, not for me, like apples. They are precious.

Maria is my best friend for sure, our relationship began when we became close friends, when we shared our wounds and hopes and touched each others pain with a tender hand. She knows the bad parts of me as well as the good ones, and sees both clearly. She has never been intimidated by me in any way, or even noticed that some people think I’m famous. She does not think I’m famous. I have never had a closer friend that she is, our souls are fused in purpose and love.

I will not likely ever have another.

Out of friendship grew trust and acceptance,  and then love. I am sure of you, I told her today. I have never spoken those words to another human being in my life. How beautiful they sounded.

Radical acceptance is essential to me when it comes to friendship. To be my friend, you must accept me. I often tell the readers of my blog that some days they will get the good Katz, some days the bad. Life is like that, friendship is like that. But you will get both.

Last night, my friend Scott Carrino called, he is in the middle of a campaign to buy the building his cafe is located in, to save his cafe. He was calling to ask about my tick bites and to make sure I was applying the right medication to them.

Over the past two or three years, we have grown closer, our friendship born in the safe and cozy confines of his sugar house, where we learned to be honest with one another, and open. Now, it is natural.

“Hey, I said,” I like for you to accept the post of brother, if that’s okay with you. My own brother and I have never figured out how to be brothers to one another, I’d love for you to be my brother.”

Scott thought about it for a second or two. “Sure, great, bro,” he said. “I’d love that.”

And so that new element of our friendship was born, we put a name on it.

I’ve always ached to have a brother, and here I am, in what some people like to call advanced middle age, and I finally have the brother I wanted, and a good one. Scott and I have traveled through the crucible together. We know everything about each other and we will love each other.

I am sure of him. And that, I think is what friendship is about.