Mark Rubinstein's Blog, page 38
May 13, 2013
James Holmes, Aurora & the Psychiatrist’s Dilemma
Lawyers for James Holmes, the man accused of killing 12 people and injuring 70 in an Aurora, Colorado movie theater, now say he will change his plea from “Not Guilty” to one of “Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity” (NGRI).
In an earlier post (Crimes, Criminals and the Insanity Defense), I described the basic components of such a defense. The defendant claims he either lacked the capacity to know right from wrong, or had a mental disorder when he committed the crime, causing an inability to act wi...
James Holmes, Aurora & The Psychiatrist's Dilemma
Lawyers for James Holmes, the man accused of killing 12 people and injuring 70 in an Aurora, Colorado movie theater, now say he will change his plea from “Not Guilty” to one of “Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity” (NGRI).
In an earlier post (Crimes, Criminals and the Insanity Defense), I described the basic components of such a defense. The defendant claims he either lacked the capacity to know right from wrong, or had a mental disorder when he committed the crime, causing an inability to act within the requirements of the law.
James Holmes is charged with multiple counts of murder and attempted murder in the Aurora incident of July 20, 2012. Holmes’ attorneys have said in hearings and written court documents that Holmes is mentally ill and was being treated by a psychiatrist before the attack. There are reports that Holmes’ treating psychiatrist (identified in court documents) reported “unspecified concerns” about him to a University of Colorado police officer before the actual attack. Reportedly, a threat assessment team at the University took no further action after the psychiatrist reported Holmes in June, 2012. www.denverpost.com/breaking news/ci_21251572 .
There are now civil lawsuits arising from the horrific shootings in the theater that night. The university is being sued, as is the theater chain, for alleged negligence concerning what has been characterized as foreseeable dangers to the public. How these lawsuits will play out remains to be seen.
This brings into focus the role of the psychiatrist treating James Holmes at the time he went on his rampage. And it raises issues about confidentiality, the doctor-patient relationship, and the physician’s responsibility to report a patient who may voice or make known an intention to harm a third party.
Traditionally, therapists had only a limited duty to control hospitalized patients and exercise due care when discharging them; and the obligations extended to non-hospitalized patients—those seeing a psychiatrist or psychologist for private treatment.
The law recognizes psychiatrists have a limited ability to predict violence with any accuracy (Tarasoff v. Regents of University of California, 17 Cal. 3d 425, 551 P.2d334, 131 Cal. Rptr. 14). Violence involves a complex interplay among social and personality factors that may vary under different situations at various times.
However, the now well-known Tarasoff ruling (cited above) expanded the therapist’s legal duty to inform a third party of a patient’s violent intentions, and expanded the therapist’s potential liability if he or she fails to do so.
The Tarasoff ruling was handed down by the California Supreme Court in 1976 after Tatiana Tarasoff, a University of California student, was stabbed to death by a disturbed young man who had been in treatment at the student health center. The plaintiffs argued the perpetrator’s action was eminently foreseeable, and something should have been done to prevent it. Mental health organizations argued in court that therapists are unreliable at predicting an individual’s dangerousness.
But, the court decided that a therapist had a duty to inform a third party, if a patient voiced violent intentions toward that person. The court recognized its ruling could lead to unnecessary warnings, but concluded “once a therapist does in fact determine, or under applicable professional standards should reasonably have determined, that a patient poses a serious danger of violence to others, he bears a duty to exercise reasonable (italics are mine) care to protect the foreseeable victim of that danger.” (Tarasoff ruling, cited above).
Many states followed California’s lead, and psychiatrists, psychologists, and other mental health professionals now have a “duty to warn” potential victims of a patient’s violent intentions. It appears the psychiatrist in the Holmes matter informed the campus police of “unspecified concerns” about Mr. Holmes.
I do not know anything about Holmes’ mental state (either then or now) and have no involvement in the case. However, this situation brings to mind the dilemma facing a mental health professional treating a patient who voices violent or potentially dangerous intentions toward others.
It’s well-established that the doctor-patient relationship is one of confidentiality. HIPPA regulations and court rulings over the years have dealt with this issue. Many psychiatrists have been sued for violating a patient’s right to privacy in one or another way. This right is sacrosanct. However, the sanctity of that privacy ends when others are placed in potential danger.
The mental health professional must make a judgment call when it comes to assessing a patient’s intentions to harm another person or commit a violent act. Is the patient expressing a lurid fantasy? Is he making statements to “impress” or worry the therapist for some reason? I’d like to murder so-and-so can be words uttered by any patient in the emotional throes of an intense session. Is the patient psychotic? Can he separate fantasy from reality? Even if he is insane, will he translate his psychotic beliefs into action? Does he have a history of violence? Does he own a weapon or have access to one? If he does, would he tell the therapist? If the therapist warns the other person or calls the police, and it turns out the patient had no real intention of carrying out the threat, has the therapist violated the patient’s right to confidentiality and thereby compromised the therapeutic relationship? Can the therapist be sued for a breach of confidentiality?
The Tarasoff decisions states: “once a therapist does in fact determine… that a patient poses a serious danger of violence to others, he bears a duty to exercise reasonable care to protect the foreseeable victim of that danger.”
What constitutes reasonable care to protect the foreseeable victim? Does the therapist inform the intended victim? Does he call campus police and the local police? How about notifying the FBI if applicable? Does the therapist relay “unspecified concerns” about the patient, or does she/he quote exactly the patient’s words? Does the therapist report the patient’s prior words or deeds (or threats that were never acted on) and in so doing, does she/he violate the patient’s right to privacy? Is the therapist opening the door for the patient to sue for breach of privacy—for intruding on the patient’s right to seclusion?
These can be difficult and complicated issues and the line between anger, humiliation, grievance and complete madness is not always clear. Still, the therapist must make the call, and decide whether or not to inform others of a patient’s words or feelings when there’s the possibility that nothing may happen.
In many instances, this is a real dilemma.
In an earlier post (Crimes, Criminals and the Insanity Defense), I described the basic components of such a defense. The defendant claims he either lacked the capacity to know right from wrong, or had a mental disorder when he committed the crime, causing an inability to act within the requirements of the law.
James Holmes is charged with multiple counts of murder and attempted murder in the Aurora incident of July 20, 2012. Holmes’ attorneys have said in hearings and written court documents that Holmes is mentally ill and was being treated by a psychiatrist before the attack. There are reports that Holmes’ treating psychiatrist (identified in court documents) reported “unspecified concerns” about him to a University of Colorado police officer before the actual attack. Reportedly, a threat assessment team at the University took no further action after the psychiatrist reported Holmes in June, 2012. www.denverpost.com/breaking news/ci_21251572 .
There are now civil lawsuits arising from the horrific shootings in the theater that night. The university is being sued, as is the theater chain, for alleged negligence concerning what has been characterized as foreseeable dangers to the public. How these lawsuits will play out remains to be seen.
This brings into focus the role of the psychiatrist treating James Holmes at the time he went on his rampage. And it raises issues about confidentiality, the doctor-patient relationship, and the physician’s responsibility to report a patient who may voice or make known an intention to harm a third party.
Traditionally, therapists had only a limited duty to control hospitalized patients and exercise due care when discharging them; and the obligations extended to non-hospitalized patients—those seeing a psychiatrist or psychologist for private treatment.
The law recognizes psychiatrists have a limited ability to predict violence with any accuracy (Tarasoff v. Regents of University of California, 17 Cal. 3d 425, 551 P.2d334, 131 Cal. Rptr. 14). Violence involves a complex interplay among social and personality factors that may vary under different situations at various times.
However, the now well-known Tarasoff ruling (cited above) expanded the therapist’s legal duty to inform a third party of a patient’s violent intentions, and expanded the therapist’s potential liability if he or she fails to do so.
The Tarasoff ruling was handed down by the California Supreme Court in 1976 after Tatiana Tarasoff, a University of California student, was stabbed to death by a disturbed young man who had been in treatment at the student health center. The plaintiffs argued the perpetrator’s action was eminently foreseeable, and something should have been done to prevent it. Mental health organizations argued in court that therapists are unreliable at predicting an individual’s dangerousness.
But, the court decided that a therapist had a duty to inform a third party, if a patient voiced violent intentions toward that person. The court recognized its ruling could lead to unnecessary warnings, but concluded “once a therapist does in fact determine, or under applicable professional standards should reasonably have determined, that a patient poses a serious danger of violence to others, he bears a duty to exercise reasonable (italics are mine) care to protect the foreseeable victim of that danger.” (Tarasoff ruling, cited above).
Many states followed California’s lead, and psychiatrists, psychologists, and other mental health professionals now have a “duty to warn” potential victims of a patient’s violent intentions. It appears the psychiatrist in the Holmes matter informed the campus police of “unspecified concerns” about Mr. Holmes.
I do not know anything about Holmes’ mental state (either then or now) and have no involvement in the case. However, this situation brings to mind the dilemma facing a mental health professional treating a patient who voices violent or potentially dangerous intentions toward others.
It’s well-established that the doctor-patient relationship is one of confidentiality. HIPPA regulations and court rulings over the years have dealt with this issue. Many psychiatrists have been sued for violating a patient’s right to privacy in one or another way. This right is sacrosanct. However, the sanctity of that privacy ends when others are placed in potential danger.
The mental health professional must make a judgment call when it comes to assessing a patient’s intentions to harm another person or commit a violent act. Is the patient expressing a lurid fantasy? Is he making statements to “impress” or worry the therapist for some reason? I’d like to murder so-and-so can be words uttered by any patient in the emotional throes of an intense session. Is the patient psychotic? Can he separate fantasy from reality? Even if he is insane, will he translate his psychotic beliefs into action? Does he have a history of violence? Does he own a weapon or have access to one? If he does, would he tell the therapist? If the therapist warns the other person or calls the police, and it turns out the patient had no real intention of carrying out the threat, has the therapist violated the patient’s right to confidentiality and thereby compromised the therapeutic relationship? Can the therapist be sued for a breach of confidentiality?
The Tarasoff decisions states: “once a therapist does in fact determine… that a patient poses a serious danger of violence to others, he bears a duty to exercise reasonable care to protect the foreseeable victim of that danger.”
What constitutes reasonable care to protect the foreseeable victim? Does the therapist inform the intended victim? Does he call campus police and the local police? How about notifying the FBI if applicable? Does the therapist relay “unspecified concerns” about the patient, or does she/he quote exactly the patient’s words? Does the therapist report the patient’s prior words or deeds (or threats that were never acted on) and in so doing, does she/he violate the patient’s right to privacy? Is the therapist opening the door for the patient to sue for breach of privacy—for intruding on the patient’s right to seclusion?
These can be difficult and complicated issues and the line between anger, humiliation, grievance and complete madness is not always clear. Still, the therapist must make the call, and decide whether or not to inform others of a patient’s words or feelings when there’s the possibility that nothing may happen.
In many instances, this is a real dilemma.
May 3, 2013
Medication Nation
As a physician and psychiatrist, I certainly have nothing against medications. Over the years, I’ve prescribed them, and have had a great deal of success when they’ve been used appropriately. But over the last few years, there’s been a dramatic change in the way we Americans view medications of all kinds. It’s worrisome.
Many of us know that certain bacteria have become resistant to antibiotics and now pose dangerous threats to hospitalized people. Infections with MRSA (Methicillin-resistant S...
April 28, 2013
Zealotry or Insanity
We don’t yet know the motivation(s) of the brothers involved in the Boston bombing. There is history that Tamerlan Tsarnaev, the older brother, was an isolated and embittered young man. We don’t know when or why that presumably happened. We don’t really know if this is true, as there have been contradictory statements about him.
He reportedly returned to Chechna and Dagestan last year, after living in the U.S. for many years. Both regions have militant separatist movements, and a history of ha...
April 23, 2013
Zealotry or Insanity?
We don’t yet know the motivation(s) of the brothers involved in the Boston bombing. There is history that Tamerlan Tsarnaev, the older brother, was an isolated and embittered young man. We don’t know when or why that presumably happened. We don’t really know if this is true, as there have been contradictory statements about him.
He reportedly returned to Chechnya and Dagestan last year, after living in the U.S. for many years. Both regions have militant separatist movements, and a history of having been at war with Russia. There are now reports that Tamerlan Tsarnaev returned to his homeland because of disenchantment with life in America. There is speculation that while there, he may have become “radicalized.”
In other words, he may have become a zealot, motivated to engage in horrific acts because of some distorted ideology instilled in him while in his homeland.
Assuming he was driven by some powerful religious or political belief, at what point do we separate the notion of zealotry from that of insanity?
Let’s define the terms.
Zealotry is characterized by undue or excessive devotion or fanaticism. It can certainly lead to extreme, violent, and even murderous behavior.
Insanity (psychosis) occurs when someone loses touch with reality, and can no longer distinguish fact (reality) from fantasy. One of the primary hallmarks of psychosis is the state of being delusional.
A delusion is a false, fixed belief to which a person adheres, despite evidence to the contrary. The belief is not shared by others in one’s social or societal group. There are many kinds of delusions. The most commonly seen are delusions of persecution. Delusional or psychotic beliefs can lead to violent, even murderous behavior.
When it comes to terrorism in which the Tsarnaev brothers were involved, was it driven by zealotry? Did they hold extreme and distorted beliefs instilled by exposure to virulently anti-Western or anti-American teachings?
Or, had one or both brothers become delusional, unleashing murderous psychosis on Boston last week?
Speaking as a psychiatrist, I can only say this question cannot be answered now. The older brother is dead and the younger one lies intubated in a hospital. He’s now able to communicate by writing. Perhaps in time, we will better understand the reasons for what happened on Patriot’s Day, 2013.
Whether it was zealotry or insanity (or both), the brothers are completely responsible for their heinous acts.
He reportedly returned to Chechnya and Dagestan last year, after living in the U.S. for many years. Both regions have militant separatist movements, and a history of having been at war with Russia. There are now reports that Tamerlan Tsarnaev returned to his homeland because of disenchantment with life in America. There is speculation that while there, he may have become “radicalized.”
In other words, he may have become a zealot, motivated to engage in horrific acts because of some distorted ideology instilled in him while in his homeland.
Assuming he was driven by some powerful religious or political belief, at what point do we separate the notion of zealotry from that of insanity?
Let’s define the terms.
Zealotry is characterized by undue or excessive devotion or fanaticism. It can certainly lead to extreme, violent, and even murderous behavior.
Insanity (psychosis) occurs when someone loses touch with reality, and can no longer distinguish fact (reality) from fantasy. One of the primary hallmarks of psychosis is the state of being delusional.
A delusion is a false, fixed belief to which a person adheres, despite evidence to the contrary. The belief is not shared by others in one’s social or societal group. There are many kinds of delusions. The most commonly seen are delusions of persecution. Delusional or psychotic beliefs can lead to violent, even murderous behavior.
When it comes to terrorism in which the Tsarnaev brothers were involved, was it driven by zealotry? Did they hold extreme and distorted beliefs instilled by exposure to virulently anti-Western or anti-American teachings?
Or, had one or both brothers become delusional, unleashing murderous psychosis on Boston last week?
Speaking as a psychiatrist, I can only say this question cannot be answered now. The older brother is dead and the younger one lies intubated in a hospital. He’s now able to communicate by writing. Perhaps in time, we will better understand the reasons for what happened on Patriot’s Day, 2013.
Whether it was zealotry or insanity (or both), the brothers are completely responsible for their heinous acts.
April 18, 2013
After Boston
Of course, we all know what happened at the Boston Marathon.
As a forensic psychiatrist, I’ve evaluated and worked with more than 300 survivors of the World Trade Center terrorist attack, and many others who lived through catastrophic incidents including explosions, fires, mass shootings, and other disasters. When an event occurs as a result of human design, it can make us lose faith in humanity and the reasonable predictability of daily life.
I’m quite familiar with the psychic toll these horrific assaults take on people. In Boston, some who were injured, or witnessed the deaths and injuries suffered by others, will develop the well-known signs and symptom of Post-traumatic Stress Disorder. Hopefully, with appropriate psychological help, they will negotiate the trauma, and in time, will go on with their lives.
Most of us weren’t near the marathon’s finish line; but by now, have seen on television, countless videos of the attack and subsequent chaos. Today’s 24 hour cable news cycle saturates us with images of the attack and its aftermath. Add to that, the frequent press conferences peppered with reporters’ questions; the internet with its endless speculation; and the pervasive presence of television and radio.
One question for many of us, is how best to cope with a senseless act of this kind. Of course, we hope the various federal, state and local agencies will apprehend the perpetrator(s). Such a development will provide some satisfaction, but we must accept that we live in a dangerous world. Terrorism is a fact of life throughout Europe, the Middle East, Asia and here. It’s a worldwide phenomenon. There will always be those who use terror to make us fearful of living our lives.
While we can’t ignore this reality, we cannot allow fear to rule us. If we think about it, the chance of being harmed by a terrorist attack is far less than the chances we take living our daily lives. We drive or ride in cars virtually every day; cross heavily-trafficked streets; walk past construction sites; and expose ourselves on a day-to-day basis to many potential dangers, without even thinking about them.
Part of what terrorists try to do (aside from making political statements) is terrorize us. They attempt to make us feel unmitigated fear in living our daily lives. They want to constrict and diminish our lifestyles, and thereby lessen us.
We cannot allow that to happen.
Mark Rubinstein,
Author, “Mad Dog House”
As a forensic psychiatrist, I’ve evaluated and worked with more than 300 survivors of the World Trade Center terrorist attack, and many others who lived through catastrophic incidents including explosions, fires, mass shootings, and other disasters. When an event occurs as a result of human design, it can make us lose faith in humanity and the reasonable predictability of daily life.
I’m quite familiar with the psychic toll these horrific assaults take on people. In Boston, some who were injured, or witnessed the deaths and injuries suffered by others, will develop the well-known signs and symptom of Post-traumatic Stress Disorder. Hopefully, with appropriate psychological help, they will negotiate the trauma, and in time, will go on with their lives.
Most of us weren’t near the marathon’s finish line; but by now, have seen on television, countless videos of the attack and subsequent chaos. Today’s 24 hour cable news cycle saturates us with images of the attack and its aftermath. Add to that, the frequent press conferences peppered with reporters’ questions; the internet with its endless speculation; and the pervasive presence of television and radio.
One question for many of us, is how best to cope with a senseless act of this kind. Of course, we hope the various federal, state and local agencies will apprehend the perpetrator(s). Such a development will provide some satisfaction, but we must accept that we live in a dangerous world. Terrorism is a fact of life throughout Europe, the Middle East, Asia and here. It’s a worldwide phenomenon. There will always be those who use terror to make us fearful of living our lives.
While we can’t ignore this reality, we cannot allow fear to rule us. If we think about it, the chance of being harmed by a terrorist attack is far less than the chances we take living our daily lives. We drive or ride in cars virtually every day; cross heavily-trafficked streets; walk past construction sites; and expose ourselves on a day-to-day basis to many potential dangers, without even thinking about them.
Part of what terrorists try to do (aside from making political statements) is terrorize us. They attempt to make us feel unmitigated fear in living our daily lives. They want to constrict and diminish our lifestyles, and thereby lessen us.
We cannot allow that to happen.
Mark Rubinstein,
Author, “Mad Dog House”
April 17, 2013
After Boston
Of course, we all know what happened at the Boston Marathon.
As a forensic psychiatrist, I’ve evaluated and worked with more than 300 survivors of the World Trade Center terrorist attack, and many others who lived through catastrophic incidents including explosions, fires, mass shootings, and other disasters. When an event occurs as a result of human design, it can make us lose faith in humanity and the reasonable predictability of daily life.
I’m quite familiar with the psychic toll these horr...
April 13, 2013
Sidney Brought Out The Best
I was an unmarried practicing psychiatrist living in Manhattan. My best friend and nearly constant companion was Sidney, a 27 pound, adorable mutt I’d rescued from the pound. When I had a break between patients, I’d run back to my apartment—six blocks away—to walk him and keep him company. Aware that dogs are socially-oriented animals, I hated that Sid spent so much time alone, but I had to work.
One day, I was faced with a dilemma.
My apartment was being painted. I couldn’t leave Sid there because he’d get in the way. Having no other choice, I brought him to my office, where he’d stay in the consultation room during patients’ sessions. Secretly, I felt great about having him with me; but I had deep reservations. This was an unusual arrangement, but I had little choice since I could find no one who would take Sid for the day. I rationalized that Freud often kept one of his beloved dogs in the consultation room during sessions.
I also knew by having Sid at my office, I was “telling” patients about myself—a therapeutic no-no, since the therapist should be something of a “blank screen” to patients during insight-oriented psychotherapy. But, I had to make the best of an unusual situation.
So Sid was in the consultation room as each patient entered for a 45 minute session.
I wasn’t surprised when he greeted each one robustly with wagging tail, plenty of sniffs and kisses, and begged to be petted and adored. That was Sidney.
To my great surprise, whether the patient was using the couch or sitting face-to-face during the session, each one gushed over Sidney and engaged my canine companion.
Then, something unusual happened: each patient began talking either about having had a dog as a child, or having wanted one. And each began dredging up memories of parents, friends, wishes, fears or strivings from years earlier. Some cried, some laughed, and even those who had trouble talking freely about themselves, poured forth a cascade of thoughts and feelings, revealing unresolved wishes or fears from childhood which encroached on their present lives.
It was obvious: Sidney’s presence was a powerful catalyst for a deep, emotional engagement by patients with the therapeutic process. And it was clear that Sid—much more than I—was instrumental in getting them to dig more deeply into their emotional lives.
Sidney was such an incredibly powerful therapeutic “instrument”, I briefly thought of keeping him in the office as a regular practice. But, it was too unusual for the times.
Nowadays, pets are a regular part of the therapeutic process at nursing homes and assisted living facilities. I fully understand why.
Were Sidney alive today, he’d be my co-therapist.
One day, I was faced with a dilemma.
My apartment was being painted. I couldn’t leave Sid there because he’d get in the way. Having no other choice, I brought him to my office, where he’d stay in the consultation room during patients’ sessions. Secretly, I felt great about having him with me; but I had deep reservations. This was an unusual arrangement, but I had little choice since I could find no one who would take Sid for the day. I rationalized that Freud often kept one of his beloved dogs in the consultation room during sessions.
I also knew by having Sid at my office, I was “telling” patients about myself—a therapeutic no-no, since the therapist should be something of a “blank screen” to patients during insight-oriented psychotherapy. But, I had to make the best of an unusual situation.
So Sid was in the consultation room as each patient entered for a 45 minute session.
I wasn’t surprised when he greeted each one robustly with wagging tail, plenty of sniffs and kisses, and begged to be petted and adored. That was Sidney.
To my great surprise, whether the patient was using the couch or sitting face-to-face during the session, each one gushed over Sidney and engaged my canine companion.
Then, something unusual happened: each patient began talking either about having had a dog as a child, or having wanted one. And each began dredging up memories of parents, friends, wishes, fears or strivings from years earlier. Some cried, some laughed, and even those who had trouble talking freely about themselves, poured forth a cascade of thoughts and feelings, revealing unresolved wishes or fears from childhood which encroached on their present lives.
It was obvious: Sidney’s presence was a powerful catalyst for a deep, emotional engagement by patients with the therapeutic process. And it was clear that Sid—much more than I—was instrumental in getting them to dig more deeply into their emotional lives.
Sidney was such an incredibly powerful therapeutic “instrument”, I briefly thought of keeping him in the office as a regular practice. But, it was too unusual for the times.
Nowadays, pets are a regular part of the therapeutic process at nursing homes and assisted living facilities. I fully understand why.
Were Sidney alive today, he’d be my co-therapist.
Sidney Brought Out The Best
I was an unmarried practicing psychiatrist living in Manhattan. My best friend and nearly constant companion was Sidney, a 27 pound, adorable mutt I’d rescued from the pound. When I had a break between patients, I’d run back to my apartment—six blocks away—to walk him and keep him company. Aware that dogs are socially-oriented animals, I hated that Sid spent so much time alone, but I had to work.
One day, I was faced with a dilemma.
My apartment was being painted. I couldn’t leave Sid there be...
April 9, 2013
When Time Telescopes
share this story
Some weeks ago, I had two exhilarating experiences.
I decided to reconnect with old friends. These weren't guys I knew from let's say, 10 or 15 years ago. The friendships went very far back. In one instance, it involved two friends from my teen years: I hadn't seen Hal for 20 years and last saw Don 10 years ago.
My other friend, Stan, was a college roommate with whom I'd lost contact 50 (that's right, 50) years ago.
Dinner with Hal and Don was at a Japanese restaurant in Mount Kisco, New York. Lunch with Stan was a few weeks later at a French restaurant in Manhattan. Each get-together was an incredible, life-affirming experience.
Yes, we spent the first 40 minutes "catching up" with each other's lives. There were marriages, divorces, business successes and some failures, and we talked about the many ups and downs that occur in any life.
But what struck me about these get-togethers -- whether with Don and Hal, or later with Stan -- whether we dined on sushi or filet mignon -- was after a half hour of kicking around the past and filling in the blanks of many years apart, we found ourselves in the moment together, just like when being with each other was an everyday occurrence. Nothing was strained or forced. We slipped into the comfortable ease of just enjoying our time together.
It seemed the intervening decades hadn't interrupted a thing. We joked and laughed with the same easy gusto as years ago, as though we hadn't missed a beat. There was a vivid and remarkably invigorating nowness in the experiences.
Time seemed to have telescoped for all of us.
Now, we were just old friends (in both meanings of the word) sharing each other's company. Being together was as satisfying as the food served in each restaurant.
I had initiated these reunions when we were all around 70 years of age. Why hadn't I done this sooner? Why had I waited all those years to reconnect, especially since I thought about these friends often? Was I afraid to discover we'd traveled such different paths, the bonds which drew us together when we were young, would no longer hold?
For us, in the hourglass of life, there's more sand at the bottom than is left trickling from the top. No matter how busy we are with our lives, regardless of how strong and vital we feel, time is not an infinite horizon, the way it felt when we were young. I had to take the chance to see if these people, who were so important to me years ago, could still connect with me (and I with them) in an enduring way. Would there remain the essential elements of friendship which drew us together years ago?
Finding out was the risk I had to take.
In life, you can't go back and recapture the past. These reunions could have been a disappointment, if all we shared were fond memories.
Fortunately, these friends from long ago remained the same solid people whose friendship I treasured then, and with whom I'm enjoying the here-and-now. So yes, for us, it seemed time had telescoped in a wonderful way.
If you're lucky, a good friend is a true friend, always.
Some weeks ago, I had two exhilarating experiences.
I decided to reconnect with old friends. These weren't guys I knew from let's say, 10 or 15 years ago. The friendships went very far back. In one instance, it involved two friends from my teen years: I hadn't seen Hal for 20 years and last saw Don 10 years ago.
My other friend, Stan, was a college roommate with whom I'd lost contact 50 (that's right, 50) years ago.
Dinner with Hal and Don was at a Japanese restaurant in Mount Kisco, New York. Lunch with Stan was a few weeks later at a French restaurant in Manhattan. Each get-together was an incredible, life-affirming experience.
Yes, we spent the first 40 minutes "catching up" with each other's lives. There were marriages, divorces, business successes and some failures, and we talked about the many ups and downs that occur in any life.
But what struck me about these get-togethers -- whether with Don and Hal, or later with Stan -- whether we dined on sushi or filet mignon -- was after a half hour of kicking around the past and filling in the blanks of many years apart, we found ourselves in the moment together, just like when being with each other was an everyday occurrence. Nothing was strained or forced. We slipped into the comfortable ease of just enjoying our time together.
It seemed the intervening decades hadn't interrupted a thing. We joked and laughed with the same easy gusto as years ago, as though we hadn't missed a beat. There was a vivid and remarkably invigorating nowness in the experiences.
Time seemed to have telescoped for all of us.
Now, we were just old friends (in both meanings of the word) sharing each other's company. Being together was as satisfying as the food served in each restaurant.
I had initiated these reunions when we were all around 70 years of age. Why hadn't I done this sooner? Why had I waited all those years to reconnect, especially since I thought about these friends often? Was I afraid to discover we'd traveled such different paths, the bonds which drew us together when we were young, would no longer hold?
For us, in the hourglass of life, there's more sand at the bottom than is left trickling from the top. No matter how busy we are with our lives, regardless of how strong and vital we feel, time is not an infinite horizon, the way it felt when we were young. I had to take the chance to see if these people, who were so important to me years ago, could still connect with me (and I with them) in an enduring way. Would there remain the essential elements of friendship which drew us together years ago?
Finding out was the risk I had to take.
In life, you can't go back and recapture the past. These reunions could have been a disappointment, if all we shared were fond memories.
Fortunately, these friends from long ago remained the same solid people whose friendship I treasured then, and with whom I'm enjoying the here-and-now. So yes, for us, it seemed time had telescoped in a wonderful way.
If you're lucky, a good friend is a true friend, always.
