Neither a borrower nor a lender be;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all: to thine ownself be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
The Tragedy of Hamlet, Act i, Scene iii
When I was finally old enough to realize that the bit of Shakespeare that I had memorized dutifully was farcical, I was a bit confused. I’ve seen people with Polonius’ final lines tattoed on themselves, and my copy editor, when I echoed that tattoo in HAPPY FAMILIES asked, “You know that’s meant to be ironic, right?” Well, yes, and no. Laertes and Ophelia are chitchatting whilst Laertes is supposed to be leaving for university in Paris – the ship is waiting for him. His father arrives, and he knows a scolding is coming, however, in hurrying him off, Polonius delays him that much longer with a lot of overly fatherly, windbag advice.
But two lines about being a borrower or a lender? They’re golden.
I didn’t always think so – I was pretty sure that it was actually a good position to be in, to be the one to be able to loan people money and things. I liked having — really, everyone likes having — because “to have” is in the position of power that “have not” fails to produce. Having been a student – broke – a very poor young newlywed – for years, broke – and recently, a student abroad – really broke — I’ve enjoyed being in a position in the last little while to not have to look at bills with a sense of dread. It’s a relief to be living simply enough to make ends meet. Being a have not is a lot of work, and brings with it a load of worry and stress that’s unbelievable. I always thought that finally being a “have” meant that my life would be easier. However, early this year, I was given cause to rethink.
I have learned that being the one who has can become addicting. It’s gratifying to help, but I know someone who loves to ride in on a white charger and save people a moment before the hangman’s trap has opened… but I’ve also watched this person gallop past people who are down, but not bleeding out — and ignore them. I guess it’s no fun if it’s not an eleventh hour save. To me, that kind of self-gratifying savior-itis is an illness, if people are only visible to you when they’ve hit bottom. If you can’t love the people who do not need you, as much as you revel in the presence of those who do, your help has become a problem.
Conversely, it’s also a problem to find yourself giving – compulsively – in order to retain a sense of social regard or affection of those in need. It all so easily becomes a slippery slope.
While I am thinking in terms of specific things, I can say very generally that it boils down to this: at any point, I can be only one thing to people at a time. I can either be a friend or a mentor, a family member or a stranger, a borrower or a lender. Do you really need me to monetarily support your foundation, or your work? Then money is all you will get from me. Do you really need my time and attention, my ear and my heart? Then you must realize that I’ll need to think twice – and three times – before I expand that which I give to you to include money. Otherwise, I have erased my boundaries, thrown open my doors, and am giving you everything. And, in many cases, when you have given nothing for what you want from me? That’s unacceptable.
Obligation creates its own definitions of who we are. Obligation prevents some of the nuances of intimacy. Obligation produces resentments – usually on both sides. I’m not sure I want to be in a position any more where those relationships are a part of my life. I want to give without feeling that I should, that I’m obliged to because of a previous relationship, position of faith, level of education, or membership in any group. I want to make the decisions about how my philanthropy – or lack of it – is handled.
Families – relatives – get put into these positions of obligation sometimes more than me, I think. Parents feel they’re obligated to help out their kids; families to bond together and take care of a straggling member. While these acts are healthy and create community in their time and place, both can be so easily abused. I see it over and over again.
People talk a great deal about entitlement, and how “today’s youth” allegedly abuse the privileges that they have, blah, blah, blah. I don’t just think it’s teens. I certainly wanted someone to swoop in and pay my bills – especially when I was barely twenty and realizing I might have bitten off more than I could chew, with student loans and an apartment and a new car. It’s not just the very young who expect somehow, some magic wand will sweep through the air and fix things. I think it’s everybody. We have been raised to these high expectations, in this world of digital marvels and technological advances. We have been given to expect that we should expect more. We want it all. We’re told we can have it all.
But, the truth still stands: we cannot. Not without some sacrifices. Not without some compromises. For, still, within this brave new world, for every gift, there is a price. What are you willing to irrevocably give up, to get what you want? What debt-load are you willing to take on?
For all of Polonius’ windbagging, he’s trying to help his son.”Neither a borrower nor a lender be.” It’s a way to avoid heartache, obligation, stress, and relationship fractures. No more debt – either emotional, psychological, or financial. No more lending. No more borrowing.
It’s advice worth taking, when all is said and done.