In Rwanda they say you need to have at least four good friends because if you get injured, your ‘ambulance’ is a stretcher carried by four people. In addition to forgoing a couple days’ wages to carry you to the nearest clinic, these friends will also most likely pitch in to pay your bill when you arrive. In America we say you don't need friends if you have good health insurance and a great retirement plan.
But I get tired of sustaining an independent mini-kingdom, and I want to lie down in that cot and let a few friends carry me. It is hard to be proud when someone is carrying you, but I’m also tired of being proud. ‘Imposition’ has such a negative and lazy connotation, but my deepest friendships have not grown in the confines of self-sufficient interactions. They went deep when, broken and unable to contend with life, I called for help in the middle of the night, or when a perceptive friend lovingly confronted me about a destructive choice.