Friendship and geocaching

Child 1 may have it all figured out at the tender age of 14

Anytime we’re trying to discuss something properly, like feminism, justice, what to make for tea, Child 1 will pipe up with a winning smile and a little quip, ‘Maybe the real feminism/equality/justice is the friends we meet along the way.’

It’s so stoopid, it gets me every time. Which of course makes him do it more.

But maybe it IS the friends we meet along the way.

Friendship, give it time

This week, I had to do an intense bit of work, which is quite unusual for me. I am in the enormously privileged position within a team of brilliant communications, events and engagement specialists who work extremely hard so that I can do the significantly easier job of going to meetings and handling what we call ‘stakeholders’.

But this week, I got my hands dirty and produced some words. 3,000 words, to be exact. And what I’m thinking about now, having completed it, is that it was not really about writing the thing. It was about supporting colleagues via the writing of the thing. In the future, I might be lucky enough to call a random selection of them friends.

The funny thing about friends is, I can’t always tell who the friends will be from the initial cohort of new people I meet via a new activity.

Anytime I embark on something new: moving into a new street; starting a new job; or a hobby, I meet 10 or 12 new people, more or less at the same time. And what fascinates me is that, if I look back on the 10 or 12 people I met that day with the benefit of hindsight, it was impossible to predict whom I would still be in touch with a decade later.

The ones who jump out immediately as the most engaging, attractive, and fun to be with are sometimes the ones that end up proper pals later on. But equally, these can be the ones who are very enthusiastic with everybody, and thus have so many friends that they’ll probably not be someone I get to spend very much time with. The relationship will have been quickly and eternally formed there and then, but there will be no depth to it, and little hope of any as they are taken off with all their various activities.

We’ll never spend very much time together, never exchange all that much of our interests, hopes, or fears. Sometimes, it’s the people who made very little initial impression but who turn up over and over again over time who very gradually and determinedly percolate into a lifelong friendship.

To go back to cohorts, I’ll give you a couple of examples from a couple of periods of my life. One from 2006, the other from nearly a decade later, 2015. In 2006, I joined the BBC as a Studio Manager, and went to Evesham near Wales to train in a secret nuclear bunker with 10 people I’d never met before. Since then, the acquaintances and relationships formed there have developed in ways that is impossible to have predicted. I am in touch properly with one, one has tragically passed away, a couple I never heard from again, and half are acquaintances I could call on for work related things with a reasonable expectation that they would be prepared to help me. Oddly though, I kept in touch with one of the trainers (Mach, you won’t think of yourself in these terms, but this is how we initially met!) And so, it was one of the people I didn’t even consider to be in the initial cohort that has ended up the abiding friend who I will probably be in touch with forever.

In 2015, I took up stand up comedy and was gigging in a reasonably committed way for half a decade. Since then, I’ve lost touch with most people I gigged with, but remain friendly with a handful, perhaps five. And they are, in no particular order: two of the three people I took shows to Edinburgh with; a promoter of a Croydon comedy festival (hello Rear Admiral Tim!); an MC; and a man who runs a night in north London and wears mismatching shoes for absolutely no reason. I could never have predicted that this particular collection of wonderful humans would be the ones I would call my friends, another half decade later.

All along the way, there are individuals who I really liked. I tried to make a friendship stick. I really tried! And on reflection, it is not really trying that works. It is getting on with my life, and just keeping on keeping on being in touch, that works. Just like a hobby or a business venture, with people, it’s the commitment to return over and over again that makes the difference.

So now, when I enter into a new venture, I try to remain relaxed about getting to know new people. Because I simply don’t know how these relationships will develop, or which will be the most important in a decade’s time. And as John Steinbeck wisely observed, nothing good gets away. By this I think he meant, if it is meant to be, it will be.

My radical prompt to you today, dear friends, is that if you feel any social anxiety whatsoever when dealing with new people, remember that there is no rushing, or forcing, these things. There is in fact no success or failure, to start with.

Turning up for people over and over again, committing to being a good potential friend, remaining open to as many people as possible will give it the best chance. Perhaps the wisest course of action is to know who to avoid, in order not to exhaust ourselves, in the first instance. Then the good relationships can develop at their own pace.

There is no rush.

Geocaching, keep at it

My newest hobby demonstrates why there is no point taking an enormous amount of time focusing on something when it might be that we just lack the requisite experience necessary to succeed.

Sam and I decided to gamify our walking this weekend, looking for geocaches in Cannizaro Park. Geocaches are containers hidden in the wild, which contain a list of people’s signatures to prove that they have been found. Sometimes they contain toys, keepsakes, or geocoins, which can be tracked as they travel around the world. It’s an interesting extra way to have fun on a walk, something I’m constantly in search of, as regular listeners to Walk the Pod will know.

Yesterday, we searched three areas of Cannizaro park in search of these pesky containers, with no joy whatsoever. I mean, the searching was fun, but the lack of success was no fun at all. Finally, we tried to find an easier cache, much closer to home, with eventual success! Fourth time lucky.

But as Child 1 will probably tell us when we recount this story, or take him geocaching to spread the total joy of ultimately pointless activities and fruitless searches, perhaps the real geocache is the friends we make along the way.

Series 52 of your daily walking podcast, Walk the Pod, starts on Monday 18 November