Climbing in Love

I am eight months post my 3 year relationship sabbatical. At times, I want to retreat back to self-imposed intimacy exile, yet I know that relearning this stuff is crucial. Recently, I've been re-immersed in the "early phase" of a relationship...the head over heals part, the think about him all the time part, the wonder how his day has been part. I feel looney and vulnerable, ridiculous and buoyant, sixteen and forty-two all at the same time.

I like this phase because it's fun and it feels good. I enjoy sharing joys and sorrows with someone else. I enjoy the unfolding of each experience, the new insights of each conversation, the series of "firsts" that accompany a new relationship.

I dislike it because it is scary. It feels too good to be true, and regardless of how the future goes...this experience is temporal. The newness goes away. The first kiss happens, by definition, only once. These moments fade.

Infatuation, I am learning, looks similar whether we date as teenagers or in midlife. My perspective on the experience, however, has definitely changed alongide the shift in my ideal date. As a young adult, my dream date involved dressing up and going out. At midlife, my dream date involves jeans, cooking in, and playing Yahtzee.

There are more substantive arenas in which my 42 year old perspective differs from the teenage one. I now realize that relationships are not, ultimately, about "falling in love". "Falling" is involuntary and accidental; that is not love. This morning's sermon, the culmination of a series of sermons pondering the meaning of love, confirmed this. Love, our pastor asserted, is patient and kind. Love is humble and "does not insist on its own way". In sum, love is intentional and feels more, at times, like an uphill climb than a fall.

My sabbatical, and the work I did amidst it, helped me tap into the ways that I previously lived out a distorted vision of love. My patience depended on being right. My kindness extended only as far as I got my own way. I craved the experience of falling in love, without the real work. And now I am learning, slowly, how to take love one step at a time. Watch my footing. Hold onto the rope. And enjoy the view while I climb.

(Random) Acts of Kindness

Today I received an e-mail from my son's second grade teacher. The Subject line read: "Today". As any parent might imagine, I braced for the worst. Since I hadn't heard from the nurse, I figured he was healthy. I assumed that Gabe had been mean or hit someone or refused to do his schoolwork. ....in short, I assumed Gabe had done something wrong. How wrong I was. I opened the e-mail to read the following:

I wanted to send a quick email to tell you how much I enjoy having Gabe
in my classroom. He is truly a neat kid and I see him being kind to ALL
students in the classroom. Just today, I witnessed him helping another
student that was feeling down ~ Gabe kept telling him positive things
about himself and he included him by asking him to play at recess. I
love seeing these random acts of kindness and I wanted to share the kind
act that Gabe displayed today. He is such a sweet boy!

Have a terrific day.

My heart was deeply warmed by her observations; this is a Gabe that I see often. I experience him to have this amazing compassion, often for those younger or less powerful than he...he seems to inherently reach out to the "least of these" in his world. Still, my qualitative research self recognizes that, when it comes to Gabe, I am absolutely and utterly biased. My love for him has expanded my capacity for love itself, and thus I cannot possibly be objective when it comes to Gabe as subject. Even as Gabe's teacher shared her observation of Gabe's act of kindness, she lived out her conviction. In sharing with me a view of my son from beyond my vantage point, she displayed an absolutely and not-so-random act of kindness. And I am deeply grateful!