I’ve been thinking about social capital lately. More specifically, about how reluctant I can be to ask my friends for favors because I don’t want to inconvenience them.
It’s easy to see why. Need a ride? Get an Uber. Need food? Have it delivered. Need someone to pick something up, assemble something, or help you move? There is probably a service for it. We’ve become very good at solving small problems without needing anyone else.
And honestly, I like that. I like being independent. I like being able to figure things out myself, and I don’t think depending on other people is inherently better. There are plenty of situations where I’d rather solve something on my own than ask someone else to spend their time on it.
But I’ve been wondering if there is something I miss when I always take that approach.
Asking someone for a favor is a small inconvenience, but it is also a small act of vulnerability. You’re asking them to give you some of their time. You’re admitting that you can’t, or don’t want to, do something entirely on your own. You’re also giving them the opportunity to say yes or no, which means accepting that you don’t have complete control over the outcome.
When someone says yes, though, something else happens. They show up for you. A friend helps you move, gives you a ride, looks after your plants while you’re away, or spends an hour helping you figure something out. Maybe you do something for them another time. The exchange doesn’t have to be equal, and it probably never will be. It’s just a collection of small moments where people make a little room for each other.
There is something important in that. Relationships aren’t built only through big conversations or memorable experiences. They are also built through these little acts of trust and reciprocity. Letting someone help you can make them feel closer to you, just as helping them can make you feel more connected to them. There is something about being able to say “I could use your help” and knowing that the relationship is strong enough to hold that vulnerability.
I’ve always thought of independence as a good thing, and I still do. But maybe independence and connection aren’t opposites. Sometimes being willing to inconvenience a friend is also a way of being closer to them. You’re giving them a chance to help, to be useful, and to show up for you. And you’re giving yourself the chance to do the same for them later.
This shift in perspective overlaps with something I return to often: memento mori. Remember that you will die. It has never felt particularly dark to me. If anything, I think of it as a reminder to pay attention to the fact that the time we have is limited.
And the more I think about relationships, the more that idea seems relevant here too. Our time with other people is finite in ways that are easy to overlook. We don’t know how many dinners we have left with a particular friend, how many coffees, bike rides, birthdays, or ordinary Tuesday mornings we’ll share. There will eventually be a last conversation with every person we know. We just won’t know which one it is.
That makes the small things feel a little different. The friend you call because you need help. The dinner you almost cancelled. The coffee that turns into an hour of talking. The favor you could have avoided asking for but didn’t. None of these moments are particularly remarkable on their own, but eventually, they become the relationship.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about where I put my time and energy, and maybe this is another part of that. Not a conclusion that I should start asking my friends for everything, or that being dependent is somehow better than being independent. More of a reminder to leave a little room for other people.
To ask for the favor sometimes. To let someone help. To help when they ask. To stay for another coffee. To make time when I could easily find a reason not to.
Because I don’t have an unlimited amount of time with the people I care about. Neither do they. And maybe some of the small inconveniences I’ve been trying to avoid are actually small opportunities to be part of each other’s lives.
I don’t know if that’s a lesson so much as something I want to remember.
While I still have the time.