The Art of Saving Oneself from Friends

The Art of Saving Oneself from Friends

Friendship, in its purest form, is meant to be a sanctuary of trust, laughter and companionship. Yet, there are times when the very bonds that promise shelter also become shackles. The skill I most long to master is not a musical instrument, not a new language, nor even a professional craft — but the subtle, delicate art of saving myself from my friends.

The Paradox of Friendship

It sounds almost contradictory — why would one need saving from friends? But life, in all its paradoxes, often teaches us that affection does not always come untainted. Friends can be fountains of joy, yet at times, they can be storm clouds that darken our horizon. Their words may turn into veiled criticisms, their gestures into obligations, and their presence into burdens.

To save oneself is not to abandon them, but to protect the sanctity of one’s inner self. It is to build quiet boundaries, not brick walls; to preserve dignity without disrupting love.

The Philosophy of Self-Preservation

Ancient wisdom often emphasises balance — the middle path of Buddha, the harmony of the Upanishads, the Stoic resilience of Marcus Aurelius. Each speaks of the same truth: to live well, one must neither lose oneself in others nor withdraw completely.

Saving oneself from friends is, therefore, the practice of inner equilibrium. It is saying yes with joy when the heart permits, and no with grace when the spirit demands. It is remembering that companionship is a choice, not a compulsion, and that the self, if lost, cannot be reclaimed easily.

The Poetic Skill of Letting Go

To acquire this skill is akin to learning a delicate art — like sketching with soft pastels or composing verses that balance rhyme and rhythm. It requires attentiveness, courage and humility. It means knowing when to share silence instead of words, when to walk away rather than linger, when to guard one’s energy as a lamp from the wind.

Friendship, after all, should be a garden where flowers bloom freely — not a cage where the soul suffocates.

When laughter turns to piercing sound,
And kindness binds like rope around,
I’ll step aside, I’ll breathe, I’ll see,
The quiet truth that sets me free.

Not every hand that reaches near,
Carries the balm to calm my fear,
Some wounds are healed by walking slow,
By learning when to stay, to go.

So may I guard my tender flame,
With love intact, yet free from blame,
For saving self is not the end,
But the truest way to love a friend.