REALITY IS GENEROUS WITH CLUES
I began learning Lynda again.
SUN
Something happened today.
Marriage can create a dangerous illusion: after enough years, we think we know the person. Of course we know a great deal. History matters. Familiarity matters. Shared language matters.
But familiarity can become a kind of blindness if I begin responding to the person I remember instead of the person standing in front of me. That is where clues became unexpectedly tender. Here is a new clue about Lynda. What does she enjoy now? What tires her now?
What does she mean when she says, I just wanted you to listen? What makes her laugh this week? What does closeness feel like to her today? The point is not to study my wife like an interesting species. The point is to remain curious about a living person.
Love can become gentler when it stops assuming it already knows everything. I had spent time revisiting things I wished I had done differently.
Regret has its uses, but there is a point at which continuing to stare backward stops being loving. A better question emerged: How can I gently love instead? Let what I have learned appear in patience. Attention. Affection. Curiosity. Willingness to adjust.
That is more alive than repeatedly prosecuting the past. The past can provide clues. The present is where I can touch her hand. That is a doggy treat worth keeping.
FROM THE CONVERSATION
Bill: it just occurred to me. i long to get to know the REAL lynda more deeply, and vice versa
