Cindy

I am tempted to call Cindy a kindred spirit. But upon reflection, we really aren’t. And that’s the beauty of it.

I met Cindy as a fellow attendee of the most extensive personal growth experience I’ve ever attended. It consisted four “retreats” spanning nine months. The entire experience covered 22 days. It was called a leadership program, though many in our group would end up disputing that.

I can’t say much about the retreats because they are covered by a confidentiality agreement. So I’ll just say that participants were encouraged to open up to others in ways that fractured the group. I opened up too, which placed me in a position where some others in the group feared or judged me. It also made it impossible for me to stay neutral in what felt like a dysfunctional family dynamic. One quarter of our group dropped out before the final retreat.

Emotionally, I went to the place I usually went when under severe judgment: extreme shame. Cindy provided me with crucial support when I needed it badly. She stuck with me and listened with compassion to the pain caused by others’ judgment and exclusion. By doing so, she risked her own standing within the group.

Cindy was—still is—a trail blazer. She saw where the group could go; what it might be. And she started to clear a trail for it. (That sounds like a leadership quality to me.) Problem was, nobody was following her. It was very political. There was a lot of backbiting and eventually outright hostility. By the end of the program, many in the group had turned against her.

After the retreats were over, Cindy and I continued to speak on the phone, usually about once per month. We scheduled it to make sure there was always a “next” talk. We still do, seven years later.

We like to do “deep dives” and talk about topics that have meaning for our whole lives rather than simply catching up with surface events. When we start a conversation with, “How are you?” it is a question to be taken seriously. She’s on a list of maybe six friends I can tell just about anything to. That’s because I know she will not judge me, and I will not judge her.

We are both life coaches. We take our “coach” hats off during our phone conversations, but we still get the benefit of each other’s training and insight. We know how to listen and refrain from advice unless it is welcome.

So here’s why Cindy is not a kindred spirit: We are very different. This is particularly apparent when it comes to our views on politics or spirituality. People with my views and people with her views are often seen on the news yelling at each other across a police line.

What’s our secret? Do we avoid those topics, in order to keep the peace? No. Do we enjoy the spirit of debate and shake hands when it’s over? No. Do we change each other’s minds? Sometimes, but not fundamentally.

Instead, we appreciate each other for our disparate views.

For example, Cindy is a very spiritual person. I am a scientist at heart. (Actually, Cindy has a degree in engineering, so she understands science perfectly well.) Whereas I choose to be a skeptic, Cindy chooses to be more open-minded.

Yet despite my skepticism, Cindy feels comfortable sharing about her spirituality with me. She tells me stories that fascinate me! Although I don’t abandon my skepticism, I can see the effect of her spirituality on her is real, vibrant, and powerful.

I thought, “If Cindy could get this much meaning and power from her spirituality, couldn’t I be open-minded about it?” And so I have.

She keeps my skepticism from draining the color and life from my worldview. I’m still too much of a skeptic for my own good. But I value having Cindy in my life to remind me that there are important, powerful things in life that cannot be measured or classified. For example: Love.

Here’s my point: If we define each other by our beliefs, and are loyal only to those people who believe the same, then we objectify others based on the groups to which they belong. We’ve done this all along when it comes to race, gender, age, socio-economic status, etc. But until now I’ve never seen people HATE each other so much simply because of what the other believes. It is tearing us apart.

If you want to be part of the solution, start by reading this book: Braving the Wilderness: The Quest for True Belonging and the Courage to Stand Alone by Brené Brown, my very favorite author.

As for Cindy and I, we got to know each other as human beings first. That’s what the book says too: “People are hard to hate close-up. Move in.”

Cindy is such an invaluable friend because she’s so different from me, not in spite of it. She gives me her female perspective. The mere fact that she is a woman makes it easier because men don’t easily talk about feelings to other men. And because she’s different in so many other ways, I learn a lot more from her than if I was to talk to somebody just like me.

Being able to do our “deep dives” into topics with such sensitivity, acceptance, and compassion is rare. I’m not sure how many others have this opportunity. Some—maybe most—don’t want it. It can be scary to be vulnerable and cultivate intimacy.

I still admire her courage as a trail-blazer. She often interacts with the world the way she should be, whether or not the world is the way it should be. And the world sometimes tries to punish her for that.

The growth I’ve seen in her is miraculous and spectacular. Although I don’t like the word “enlightened” (because, you know, scientist stuff), I have no problem calling her the most enlightened person I know. This is because I actually see her life working better as a result of the hard work she’s done. I’m proud that she credits me with doing the small service of pointing her in the right direction from time to time.

Cindy, you are not my kindred spirit. And that has made all the difference. I will be grateful for the rest of my life.