I often talk about the importance of being intentional about who we spend time with. For good reason.
Too many people waste a huge part of their lives managing friction in their social circles. More often than not, it’s because some of the people they surround themselves with have a vested interest in maintaining a worldview or personal agenda that holds themselves—and others—back. If we genuinely like these people, we usually try to make things work. In the worst case, we spend our time trying to make them less of an idiot while fighting their attempts to pull us into their mindset. But when there are significant differences—and especially when one or both sides aren’t truly invested—this dynamic can drain our energy indefinitely.
On the flip side, some people find comfort in friendships that reinforce their avoidance of things they should be facing. Of course, they don’t see these individuals as enablers of stagnation or mindless validation machines. Instead, they insist these friendships have benefited them for years. They feel good about being rewarded for meeting familiar expectations, never having to challenge themselves too much.
To me, valuing my own time—as well as other people’s—is key. That’s why I don’t choose my friends. I let them choose themselves through the offers they present me with. If someone makes an offer I can genuinely accept, a friendship forms. And, of course, this goes both ways. I make offers as well. If what I bring to the table isn’t relevant to them, there’s not much of a friendship to sustain.
This isn’t a cold, transactional approach. It’s about recognizing that real emotional connection happens when both involved parties bring something of value—something they genuinely want to give and that the other person is open to receiving.
So, does that mean a friendship ends when no exchange of value is happening anymore? No, not necessarily. Within seven months of moving to Upper Austria, Melanie and I had visitors from Germany, France, Belgium, the United States, and the Netherlands. Some of them we hadn’t spoken to—let alone seen—for months or even years. Still, we had never stopped being friends. So when we met, we picked up where we left off. We didn’t meet out of routine. We didn’t meet to kill time. We didn’t meet out of obligation. We didn’t meet to manage or resolve friction.
We met because we expected to have something meaningful to offer each other in that moment. In other words, we chose to do what was necessary to give and receive value.
