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        The photo I made at left was created as a meditation on twin subjects: Parallel lines and Velocity. 

   In friendship, parallel lines intersect in ways that raise trust and nurture our humanity. We cannot live without others.

   Friendship causes us to slow at its various intersections. Velocity can threaten relationships. 

   By 1974, it would never have occurred to me to doubt my pal, Don. We had been friends for four years during which I sent him lots of business to support his budding insurance work.

   One day, I asked Don to contribute a small amount to a theater with which my wife and I were involved. He declined.

   Since I had never asked anything of him, I was stunned. Without explanation, I ran from the relationship and began feeling a drop of poison every time his name arose. 

   In a single phone conversation, we went from close to far.

   Don had no idea he had offended me. It took me a long time to realize that the problem was velocity. I had raced to an unwarranted conclusion. 

   Of course, my resentment was foolish. If I had been a truer friend, I would have raised the issue immediately and we could have resolved it, as we finally did. Our friendship is now forty years old. 

   The moment a perceived slight appears, we are often quick to condemn the other while justifying ourselves.  David Whyte says our lives are dominated by velocity. Old friendships can split in a millisecond.

   What is more precious than a dear relationship? At its intersection we feel a resonance that affirms our existence.

   Thus, there is nothing more painful than "break-up," as toxins burn our hearts. Lines which once intersected move back to parallel.

   Such stories fill literature and courtrooms with tragedy and acrimony.

   All of it is usually avoidable.

   Do we expect too much of each other? Do we count on co-workers to back us and turn on them instantly when they don't? 

   I have seen nurses act resentful the moment a patient "dies on them" as if the patient has intentionally abandoned the caregiver. I have experienced supervisors who suspect all employees because once, long ago, they were tricked by a subordinate. 

   As we open to others, the rawest skin of our hearts is exposed. Heightened sensitivity enables joy. An accidental pin-prick may feel like a dagger.

   Should we avoid drawing close?

   You may have made this life choice. You may have determined that your wounds have drained the blood of compassion from your scared heart.

   In a long life, I have felt betrayed many times. It has never been helpful to nurture hostility. My life has never been enriched by veering away from meaningful relationships – even when they end badly.

   But, close can feel dangerous. Far may seem safe.

   Jesus assumed we would love our friends and called us to love our enemies. Does Love have such a thing as an enemy?

Reverend Erie Chapman