I've always been intrigued with Dr. John Gottman's research. I believe he's best known for what's called 'bidding', an idea that seems to be a result of his work with couples, which basically suggests that the way partners respond to each other is a critical factor in determining the relationship's success; there's much more to it, which you can read about if you go to his website, or if you know how to use a search engine. One thing that I noticed about his website is the way it highlights relationships where the participants are basically locked into the commitment, at least relative to other types of partnerships; there are drop-downs menus for couples, parents, and professionals. To put it another way, Gottman's research leans heavily toward long-term connections with a history (and expectation) of regular and frequent interactions.
The value of this work is obvious because any insights into these kinds of relationships has the possibility of enriching one of the most meaningful parts of life. But as a tool with which to think about relationships, it only completes part of the picture; most of our relationships don't fall into this category because they tend to be much shorter, and often involve near strangers. The disparate interactions that define these fleeting connections can almost blur together over time because of the way we take comfort in reciting well-worn lines from the cue cards of small talk; the original thinking of our unique selves remains nearly out of sight, like a shy child clutching her mother's knee while the adults discuss the weather. And yet, despite these initial posturings, occasionally inconsequential little connections become something more - a colleague from another team becomes a mentor, a neighbor a few doors away becomes a confidant, a local merchant in the sea of anonymous transactions becomes an unpaid therapist.
I clicked through Gottman's website a little earlier on a vague treasure hunt, looking for any glint of a golden rule that might explain why some weak connections improbably become treasured friendships. I gave up when I realized I knew the answer; the idea of bidding, where people simply respond to each other, is so powerful that it surely explains this phenomenon. When I think about all of my closest friends, I realize that in addition to my being their mutual friend they sometimes have only one other thing in common - they are responsive. And when I think back to the early days, I recognize that it's been there all along, whether it be in a shared interest that made responding easy, or a compatibility that made it natural. The most interesting thing is that I can almost always think of someone else who I met in similar circumstances to these close friends - maybe we were colleagues, or on the same sports team, or in the same friend group. I used to wonder why I remained friends with some while drifting from others; I suppose in life we either bid, or bid adieu.
