Reaching Common Grounds

I have a terrific friend who could not be more different from me: “bleeding heart liberal” (his words), atheist activist, and very affluent. I am a conservative libertarian, Christian and poor as a, well, church mouse. We met shortly after I starting taking fencing lessons last summer. We fought each other a couple of times and really hit it off. As we started having conversations about topics other than fencing, we discovered what good conversationalists we both were. We easily and quickly developed a depth of talking that we both find uncommon in other people. We also discovered that our worldviews and orientations couldn’t be much more dissimilar. That has never been a challenge to our friendship, because we have such high regard for each other. It has, however, challenged me, at least, to articulate my arguments in a more logical and clear manner, impelling me to state my ideas in a concise way that leads to real discussion. Rather than dropping my point and avoiding difficult subject matter in order to protect our friendship, I hold my ground. I won’t withdraw from the friendship. Avoiding our differences is cowardly and unsatisfying. 

I am so grateful!  It is a gift to have an intelligent friend who is willing to have a meaningful conversation, arguing over points of contention rather than personality.  What a relief. I can be who I am, speak my mind, and be accepted. He can, too. We both appreciate that. Here’s how we manage to do this: 

We take care to maintain our friendship by making goodwill, candor and clarity our starting points. Neither one of us has to be right, neither one of us has to “win.” That isn’t our purpose. Our purpose is to hear and be heard. We are genuinely interested in the other’s point of view. That’s because we are curious intellectually and are not one another’s adversary. Not at all. We are tolerant of each other’s differences of opinion because we genuinely like each other. We aren’t threatened by our differences. I welcome my friend as he is. He is free to speak his mind with me and challenge me on my opinions, beliefs, and rationales. It’s better to know him than to be just like him.  This is a priceless aspect of our friendship. 

Nor do we fall for the fallacy that our differences mean we can’t get along civilly, be friends, or find some common ground. There are meaningful points on which we agree as well as disagree. That’s okay: Our values of patience, mutual respect, and honesty line up nicely and are more important than conformity and agreement. I have friends I’ve known for years that don’t grasp the significance of this. 

We may tease or mock each other in fun, but there is no smugness present. We continually create a safe environment in which to share our very different mindsets. It’s incredibly liberating. I never worry about being ridiculed or vilified. I am confident that I will be allowed to express my true, authentic thoughts, couching nothing in apologies or masking what I really mean.  

We know better than to equate people with their ideas. Great people can have dumb ideas. Dumb people can have great ideas. Great ideas can sound dumb when they are not articulated well and dumb ideas can sound like genius when they are skillfully presented. If I thought my friend was simply the sum of his politics and belief, I wouldn’t have much reason to talk to him and would be the poorer for it.  

He invited me over for coffee recently; I reached across the table for one superb cup of freshly ground coffee after another. We talked for more than a couple of hours. What did we talk about? The recent change in abortion laws in Ohio. And yes, we differ significantly on this topic. I’m looking forward to telling you about that next time. See you then.