Once, on a trip to Maine, I tried lobster. After all, "when in Rome, ..." And since people pay such a high dollar nearly everywhere else for this delicacy, I figured I might as well partake of it in the state where so many are caught.
I didn't like it. I found it rubbery and tasteless, kind of like a flavorless chewing gum.
You may well like lobster and, if you do, then all the more for you. I just won't be ordering it anytime in the foreseeable future.
On the other hand, I tried gyros while at a Greek restaurant in Toronto and loved them. I just have to figure out if I can find a similar eatery near my home and also determine if I can fix this tasty dish at home.
How I feel about those two foods are often the way we feel about people. Right or wrong, there are people whom we can take or leave, preferring to leave. And there are people we just love, no matter what.
Do not misunderstand me, the former group is not made up of people we hate or abhor, for those emotions are far too similar to love in that they are passions stirred up. No, the former group is filled with those people for whom we have no strong feelings at all -- not love nor hate, like nor dislike; more indifference than anything else.
My father once spoke about his time in the military and said he learned one thing about life from it. When he walked into the barracks for the first time, he said, he realized there were about five or six guys he liked right away and about five or six he didn't like right away. The rest were, as he said, "in the middle." And when boot camp was over, he said, a few of the "liked" five or six had moved to the "disliked" five or six and vice versa. But no one had left the middle.
The challenge in life, sometimes, is in doing something caring and loving for any of those people for whom we have no strong interest. If you don't love someone, it can be very difficult to want to do them any favors, especially if it means going well out of your way. If you don't like them, chances are they will never ask anything of you. Ironically, a person for whom you really have no interest at all, about whom you have no strong feelings, can land on your "disliked" list if they ask too much of you too often. What bothers you isn't the person, so much as their uncanny ability to constantly ask for things or services. They may just be trying to constantly get your attention in a cloying and demanding way without being able to accept that they simply are not on your personal radar.
On the other hand, a person you love can ask for anything and you will do everything in your power to get it for them, no matter how difficult or demanding the request. Even if they ask you to never speak to them again, you may try to talk them out of it but you will do your best to honor that request, despite the personal pain you feel, all because of the love you have for them.
Love, in the end, makes all of the difference in our personal relationships. Giving to the ones we love is easy, even when it is not. Giving to someone we don't care about at all can be trying and difficult, largely because we do not love them. For it is love that we give when we do for others and it is hard to give love to someone for whom we don't feel any love. Love is the currency we spend and we spend it best with those we love.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Friday, February 17, 2012
WHEN WE MEET AGAIN
We both had to attend the event so we knew we would see each other.
And yet never before have I felt so uncertain of how to act with her, around her, near her. Was I to be friendly? Stand-offish? Pretend I don't know her at all? Or act in some other way entirely?
She and I had gone from a relationship of open, frank and honest communication, all of it wrapped in a gentleness and kindness the likes of which I have never before known and never will again, to complete and utter isolation. Where we once knew what each other was thinking and feeling, even when simply talking online, now neither of us could read the other.
So when I saw her, checking in at the event, I did not know how to act. She waved, but was it to me or to the person who was helping her find her nametag? The last time I'd seen her, from a slight distance, she'd appeared to be angry at the sight of me, so I could only assume she would not be thrilled to see me at this event, even though I was fairly certain my presence was no surprise to her.
By the time the event was over, things were not clearer but more confused. There was no time to talk alone, even for a minute, to shed even a sliver of light on what was, or was not, going on between us or how either of us was to act if and when any similar meetings occur in the future.
Since that time, some months ago now, I cannot help but recognize just how easily interpersonal relationships can get twisted and screwed up by misread signals and miscommunication.
I used to think that such things were beyond us, that we had established such a solid foundation of communication and trust and honesty that we'd never be the victims of mixed signals. And maybe, if we had kept those lines of communication open and the information freely flowing between us, that would be true. At the same time, though, I also thought we knew each other so well that we'd always feel deeply in touch and that we'd always be able to read each other's faces, minds and hearts, even from across a crowded ballroom.
But, as with so many relationship issues, I was so terribly wrong.
First of all, in times of interminable silence, the heart and mind fill in the gaps. What gets tossed into those gaping holes tends to be all the worries, fears, anxieties and doubts we've ever had, along with some nightmares and a few really bad ideas. And the only thing that can really dispel this darkness of the heart and soul is the light of communication and sharing. Without that, all manner of horrible thoughts creep in so that, when finally face-to-face again, even the smallest gesture, or the hint of a gesture, is subjected to intense scrutiny and examination until it is deemed to be the proof of something hideously horrible. In no time at all, people who once deeply and profoundly trusted and cared for each other are more wary and frightened than two longtime combatants.
Secondly, we need to realize, when placed in such situations, that neither of us is acting like we would, or could, if we were simply alone with this other person. No, there are other people around and so neither of us is being ourselves anyway. But where we would have linked arms and attacked the task of being at this event as a team before, we now face the event alone and each other alone, but in this stifling crowd. So unless we can fashion a moment of privacy to speak to each other, it is going to be a strain on both of us and no one is themselves when under such stress. So we should not read too much, if anything, into our behavior in such situations. Wait, instead, for a time alone to talk. Or simply wash what happens at such events from your memory completely, because it was not real or honest.
Finally, we both need to realize we cannot assume, as we once did, that the other person knows what we are thinking and feeling. The lines of communication once between us have been frayed so that, at best, only partial thoughts, feelings, emotions and ideas are getting through. She can no longer look at my face and see my every thought and feeling on it. And I cannot look into her eyes and know what she is thinking at this very moment. Maybe some day we can rebuild those lines. But we should never assume they still are feeding us correct and clear information until then.
It is very hard to go from being so intimately connected to being isolated and cut off from each other. It is even harder then to find yourselves thrust together in an uncomfortable and unfriendly setting where communication remains strained and difficult, and most certainly not intimate and honest.
So try to keep your mind from thinking the worst of her and may she not think the worst of you.
At least until you both can speak easily and freely to each other, face to face.
And yet never before have I felt so uncertain of how to act with her, around her, near her. Was I to be friendly? Stand-offish? Pretend I don't know her at all? Or act in some other way entirely?
She and I had gone from a relationship of open, frank and honest communication, all of it wrapped in a gentleness and kindness the likes of which I have never before known and never will again, to complete and utter isolation. Where we once knew what each other was thinking and feeling, even when simply talking online, now neither of us could read the other.
So when I saw her, checking in at the event, I did not know how to act. She waved, but was it to me or to the person who was helping her find her nametag? The last time I'd seen her, from a slight distance, she'd appeared to be angry at the sight of me, so I could only assume she would not be thrilled to see me at this event, even though I was fairly certain my presence was no surprise to her.
By the time the event was over, things were not clearer but more confused. There was no time to talk alone, even for a minute, to shed even a sliver of light on what was, or was not, going on between us or how either of us was to act if and when any similar meetings occur in the future.
Since that time, some months ago now, I cannot help but recognize just how easily interpersonal relationships can get twisted and screwed up by misread signals and miscommunication.
I used to think that such things were beyond us, that we had established such a solid foundation of communication and trust and honesty that we'd never be the victims of mixed signals. And maybe, if we had kept those lines of communication open and the information freely flowing between us, that would be true. At the same time, though, I also thought we knew each other so well that we'd always feel deeply in touch and that we'd always be able to read each other's faces, minds and hearts, even from across a crowded ballroom.
But, as with so many relationship issues, I was so terribly wrong.
First of all, in times of interminable silence, the heart and mind fill in the gaps. What gets tossed into those gaping holes tends to be all the worries, fears, anxieties and doubts we've ever had, along with some nightmares and a few really bad ideas. And the only thing that can really dispel this darkness of the heart and soul is the light of communication and sharing. Without that, all manner of horrible thoughts creep in so that, when finally face-to-face again, even the smallest gesture, or the hint of a gesture, is subjected to intense scrutiny and examination until it is deemed to be the proof of something hideously horrible. In no time at all, people who once deeply and profoundly trusted and cared for each other are more wary and frightened than two longtime combatants.
Secondly, we need to realize, when placed in such situations, that neither of us is acting like we would, or could, if we were simply alone with this other person. No, there are other people around and so neither of us is being ourselves anyway. But where we would have linked arms and attacked the task of being at this event as a team before, we now face the event alone and each other alone, but in this stifling crowd. So unless we can fashion a moment of privacy to speak to each other, it is going to be a strain on both of us and no one is themselves when under such stress. So we should not read too much, if anything, into our behavior in such situations. Wait, instead, for a time alone to talk. Or simply wash what happens at such events from your memory completely, because it was not real or honest.
Finally, we both need to realize we cannot assume, as we once did, that the other person knows what we are thinking and feeling. The lines of communication once between us have been frayed so that, at best, only partial thoughts, feelings, emotions and ideas are getting through. She can no longer look at my face and see my every thought and feeling on it. And I cannot look into her eyes and know what she is thinking at this very moment. Maybe some day we can rebuild those lines. But we should never assume they still are feeding us correct and clear information until then.
It is very hard to go from being so intimately connected to being isolated and cut off from each other. It is even harder then to find yourselves thrust together in an uncomfortable and unfriendly setting where communication remains strained and difficult, and most certainly not intimate and honest.
So try to keep your mind from thinking the worst of her and may she not think the worst of you.
At least until you both can speak easily and freely to each other, face to face.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
KNOWN VS. UNKNOWN
The father spoke, saying how this winter had been better than the last. Last year he and his wife suffered as they watched their teenage son suffer with an unknown ailment. He had trouble eating and, as an athlete, nourishment is crucial.
This winter, he said, is better because while there is no known cure for what his son has, at least they all know what troubles him. And that makes it tolerable and, for the son, endurable. Because there are measures he can take to minimize the problem.
There are times when the unknown is frightening. In a dark, unfamiliar house. In a strange city after dark. When encountering someone new. When starting a new job. When lost and disoriented.
But there are other times when the unknown is better than the known. At least in some ways.
I have spent years searching for love. I always hoped it was out there, hoped that somewhere along the way I had not missed it through sheer stupidity or naivete. But I did not know whether I'd find it, if it even was out there for me, or if I would recognize it if, indeed, fate and God brought it to me.
Nor did I know what truly and completely loving someone was like.
But then love came into my life, beautifully and amazingly. And I now know just how utterly life-changing that experience is. While I never would surrender a moment with the woman I love for anything this world has to offer, I also know now what I was missing. And, because she has since left my life, I also live daily with the knowledge of what love feels like, how it transforms us in immutable ways and how you cannot erase the permanent change to your heart.
For now I not only know there is a woman out in this world whom I love more than life itself, but I also know that I must live out the rest of my days without her, that I must replace that sense of the unknown with the certainty of the known and the lost. I now know that love is out there, in the world. I know where that love lives and what she looks like, how she thinks, who she really is. And that information is utterly mine and utterly useless because she no longer wants to be in my life or be with me.
They say it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. I would not disagree with that, since I truly believe love is the most precious and important gift we can give or receive. But I also know, from years of experience, that sometimes it is better to not be sure that love, for you, is out there at all. Because once you know, and once you love, there is no forgetting. And no going back.
This winter, he said, is better because while there is no known cure for what his son has, at least they all know what troubles him. And that makes it tolerable and, for the son, endurable. Because there are measures he can take to minimize the problem.
There are times when the unknown is frightening. In a dark, unfamiliar house. In a strange city after dark. When encountering someone new. When starting a new job. When lost and disoriented.
But there are other times when the unknown is better than the known. At least in some ways.
I have spent years searching for love. I always hoped it was out there, hoped that somewhere along the way I had not missed it through sheer stupidity or naivete. But I did not know whether I'd find it, if it even was out there for me, or if I would recognize it if, indeed, fate and God brought it to me.
Nor did I know what truly and completely loving someone was like.
But then love came into my life, beautifully and amazingly. And I now know just how utterly life-changing that experience is. While I never would surrender a moment with the woman I love for anything this world has to offer, I also know now what I was missing. And, because she has since left my life, I also live daily with the knowledge of what love feels like, how it transforms us in immutable ways and how you cannot erase the permanent change to your heart.
For now I not only know there is a woman out in this world whom I love more than life itself, but I also know that I must live out the rest of my days without her, that I must replace that sense of the unknown with the certainty of the known and the lost. I now know that love is out there, in the world. I know where that love lives and what she looks like, how she thinks, who she really is. And that information is utterly mine and utterly useless because she no longer wants to be in my life or be with me.
They say it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. I would not disagree with that, since I truly believe love is the most precious and important gift we can give or receive. But I also know, from years of experience, that sometimes it is better to not be sure that love, for you, is out there at all. Because once you know, and once you love, there is no forgetting. And no going back.
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