At 5:42 a.m. my facebook news feed read, “Sarah Jones* and John Jones* have ended their relationship.” It was an unexpected way to learn that their 18+ years of waking-up together, making love, having babies, arguing, mowing the lawn, worrying about each other’s parents and siblings; and unpacking after long family trips, had come to an end. Very suddenly, 5:43 am was a great deal more significant for me.
John and Sarah were high school sweethearts, managed to date throughout college, married, and then took on graduate and medical school. Like many of us they are raising a family. They have built professions side by side in the town they grew-up in and appear, at least from my distant perspective and some lurking through online photo albums, to have created full lives.
Having botched a first marriage of my own, I am of the opinion that being married requires more than stamina. That waking-up in love day after day is about more than shared history, common ground, or even desperately wanting to pull off a marriage better than the one your own parents did or did not endure. What that elusive more is seems increasingly harder to define these days. Opinions ranging from “God” to “Great Sex” fill the self-help shelves of bookstores everywhere. With so many possibilities being voiced it seems a sure thing that there is not a one-size-fits-all answer to sustaining love.
I have long believed that life is what we make of it. As I grow older, I have also come to believe even those willing to make the very best of this life sometimes find themselves in unredeemable situations. Life-crushing poverty, war, famine… these are often just the accident of being born in the wrong time or place, and just as often there is no way out. I am not suggesting that when a marriage fails no one is at fault. By all means blame whomever you want. Most of us recognize that our actions will bear consequences, regardless of which actions we take, and as the shelves at bookstores attest - there are many meaningful and significant ways to nurture relationships.
I, myself, have never seen the travel itinerary for a life. Flights, even when closely monitored for arrival or departure times are rarely predictable, frequently experience delays, and there are no e-mail alerts that let us know when the volcano blows and stops air travel all together.
John and Sarah were high school sweethearts, managed to date throughout college, married, and then took on graduate and medical school. Like many of us they are raising a family. They have built professions side by side in the town they grew-up in and appear, at least from my distant perspective and some lurking through online photo albums, to have created full lives.
Having botched a first marriage of my own, I am of the opinion that being married requires more than stamina. That waking-up in love day after day is about more than shared history, common ground, or even desperately wanting to pull off a marriage better than the one your own parents did or did not endure. What that elusive more is seems increasingly harder to define these days. Opinions ranging from “God” to “Great Sex” fill the self-help shelves of bookstores everywhere. With so many possibilities being voiced it seems a sure thing that there is not a one-size-fits-all answer to sustaining love.
I have long believed that life is what we make of it. As I grow older, I have also come to believe even those willing to make the very best of this life sometimes find themselves in unredeemable situations. Life-crushing poverty, war, famine… these are often just the accident of being born in the wrong time or place, and just as often there is no way out. I am not suggesting that when a marriage fails no one is at fault. By all means blame whomever you want. Most of us recognize that our actions will bear consequences, regardless of which actions we take, and as the shelves at bookstores attest - there are many meaningful and significant ways to nurture relationships.
I, myself, have never seen the travel itinerary for a life. Flights, even when closely monitored for arrival or departure times are rarely predictable, frequently experience delays, and there are no e-mail alerts that let us know when the volcano blows and stops air travel all together.
I think it takes courage to live somewhere other than the corner of “Almost and Happy.” You often have very good neighbors there, moving causes disruption and discomfort even when you are ready to leave, and more so when it is going to take you someplace unknown. I wish I could send my Sarah and John each a map or a travel guide. You know something like “Happiness- Off the Beaten Path” or “The Lonely Planet’s guide to Bliss.” Unfortunately, leaving a trail marker is the best I can do - keeping in mind of course that I am often nowhere to be found - here it is:
Fall in love with YOU. Fall hard. Fall deep. Reach for as genuine a love as you have ever dreamed might exist. Be particularly generous in accepting your flaws.
Fall in love with YOU. Fall hard. Fall deep. Reach for as genuine a love as you have ever dreamed might exist. Be particularly generous in accepting your flaws.
It is a risky undertaking. This is not something that gets quickly checked off your list. At least, I have never actually met anyone who said “Yep, been there, done that.” Nevertheless, along the way you do meet others trying to do the same thing. Strangely, it means that they recognize the feeling of being loved, and this greatly increases their (and your) capacity to love others. I think this trail runs pretty close to one of those fabled towns of peace and contentment, but I am not sure. Sarah, John, I promise to let you know if I get there first, I’ll continue to leave markers along the way, and for sure I will send up a flare. Feel free to send out a search party if you get there before me. As I mentioned above, pretty often I am nowhere to be found.
*Names have been changed to protect Sarah and John’s privacy
*Names have been changed to protect Sarah and John’s privacy
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