Through It All

A student was asked to write an essay about the Quakers. He wrote: “The Quakers are very meek, quiet people who never fight or answer back. I think my father is a Quaker. Not my mother.”

Some people, like his mother, may be more verbal during conflict. Others may want to quietly mull the problem over a bit before talking about it. But conflict is a natural and even healthy part of relationships. It is especially important to resolve differences with people we care about and, when conflict is handled correctly, it can actually bring us closer together. 

Author and counselor, Charlie Shedd, reports getting this note on the kitchen counter after some unresolved conflict with his wife: “Dear Charlie, I hate you. Love, Martha.”
 
What an interesting note! She told him she was angry, but she told him something else, too. She told him that, in spite of her present feelings, she loved him. Through it all, she was saying, she will always love him. 

A basic commitment to love one another is the foundation upon which caring relationships are built. When in conflict with those closest to you, that decision to love – through it all – is vital. No technique, no amount of training, however important, will do more to get you through those tough times.

-- Steve Goodier

Love Letter To A Cat

A love letter to a cat? Why not? At least Andrew thought it might work. This is an actual love letter written by a boy to his cat.

But before you read the letter, you must understand this about the cat. She is about as affectionate as a cactus. And besides, she goes to great lengths to avoid Andrew. She would rather sleep the day away in one of her many hiding places scattered throughout the boy’s house than be near him. And on one of those rare occasions when she makes an appearance, he can forget about touching her. If he never has anything to do with her, that is all right by the cat.

The boy tries his best to be nice. He looks for her, searching the house for an occupied hiding place, and feels abundantly grateful if he should stumble upon his treasure. He is occasionally allowed to stroke her once or twice before she flits off. He even feeds her, hoping to eventually win her confidence and perhaps even a bit of affection. But he is seldom rewarded with anything like attention.

Now that you know something about the cat, whose name is Mehitabel, by the way, what about the love letter? It was found next to the cat’s food dish. This is what it said: 

“To cat (he couldn’t spell Mehitabel): I love you. Before you love me I will love you more. Love, Andrew. Meow!”

I admire his love for a cat that will not return it. I love you. Before you love me I will love you more. That is the kind of patient love of, perhaps, a parent for a child. 

Or anyone persistently waiting for love to be returned. It’s single-minded. Persevering.

And I think there’s something spiritual about an unrequited love. It’s a little like the dogged love of God for people everywhere. 

There is also something beautifully excessive about a love that says before you love me I will love you more. And to be a little excessive in love is probably okay.

Thank you for teaching us, Andrew.

-- Steve Goodier

Potatoes Spoil, People Don’t Spoil

 

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I knew a woman who worked with children all her life. She was especially good with children we would call “at risk” -- children who acted out, children from rough backgrounds, children who built impenetrable walls to keep others out. In time, she always found a way into their hearts. Children acted differently around her than around others, even their parents. I often remarked on it and she would sometimes say, “Children need a lot of love. You can’t spoil a child with too much love. Potatoes spoil, children don’t spoil.”

Don’t get me wrong. She had boundaries, and when children misbehaved, there were consequences. But the consequences were fair. And the kids she worked with eventually learned that they could depend on her constant love and concern for them through it all. At the end of the day, no matter what kind of day it was, she would be there with arms open.

Can you love someone too much? Perhaps you can show the wrong kind of love, but I’m sure you can’t show too much.

One of my favorite stories tells of a woman who finally decided to ask her boss for a raise in salary. All day she felt nervous and apprehensive. Late in the afternoon she summoned the courage to approach her employer. To her delight, the boss agreed to a raise.

The woman arrived home that evening to a beautiful table set with their best dishes. Candles were softly glowing. Her husband had come home early and prepared a festive meal. She wondered if someone from the office had tipped him off. Or did he just somehow know that she would not get turned down?

She found him in the kitchen and told him the good news. They embraced and kissed, then sat down to the wonderful meal. Next to her plate the woman found a beautifully lettered note. It read: "Congratulations, darling! I knew you'd get the raise! These things will tell you how much I love you."

The supper was perfect. Afterward, her husband went into the kitchen to clean up, and as he left the room she noticed a second card that had fallen from his pocket. Picking it off the floor, she read: "Don't worry about not getting the raise. You deserve it anyway! These things will tell you how much I love you."

Someone has said that the measure of love is when you love without measure. What this man tried to convey to his spouse was total acceptance and love. Whether she succeeded or failed, whether she won or lost, he loved her regardless. Love without measure. Sometimes his love might celebrate her victories and other times it was there to soothe and comfort.

Upon receiving the Nobel Peace Prize, Mother Teresa said: "What can you do to promote world peace? Go home and love your family."

Yes, love your family, and also love your friends. For some friends are truly family. Love the people in your life. Love them without measure. And don’t worry about spoilage. Potatoes spoil, people don’t spoil.

-- Steve Goodier

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Faces of Love

Image courtesy of Vivek Chugh

Science fiction writer Isaac Asimov penned this humorous poem:

“Tell me why the stars do shine,
Tell me why the ivy twines,
Tell me what makes skies so blue,
And I'll tell you why I love you.

Nuclear fusion makes stars to shine,
Tropisms make the ivy twine,
Raleigh scattering make skies so blue,
Testicular hormones are why I love you.”

What happened to that poor man in the romance department?

Actually, I suppose that what he lacks in inspiration he probably makes up for in accuracy. And accuracy is fine, but I like some mystery, too. I don't want to analyze and dissect all of the wonder out of life.

There's something mysterious about a pitch-black sky teeming with shining stars...something that causes my imagination to soar. And what about the mystery of nature? I can think of few things so thrilling as that sense of awe that explodes in my heart when I see a brilliantly blue sky over snow-capped mountain peaks. And the greatest mystery of all – love. What is more mysterious than a deep and almost perfect love felt between two otherwise imperfect people?
   
Love is mysterious. Robert Fulghum says, “We’re all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness—and call it love—true love.”

Perhaps love has many faces. The faces easiest to see are ones of infatuation and romance. We speak of “falling in love” and feel, too, as if we are in free fall. This is the face of love that inspires songs and poetry and romance novels.

But the face of love I appreciate most is not romance, as much as I am drawn to it, but one I can always count on to be there. It is the face of love that looks more like commitment or devotion – devotion of a parent for a child, or of couples who've lived and loved together for years.

This particular face of love is not a magnet that attracts two people to each other, but glue that holds them together for the long term. It is a face of love often seen on parents and grandparents and close friends who have been through good times and bad with one another.

I recall a story about a husband and wife who were engaged in a minor dinnertime disagreement. To the children’s amazement, their father jumped up from the table, grabbed two sheets of paper, and said to his wife, “Let’s make a list of everything we don’t like about each other.”
   
She agreed and proceeded to write. He, meanwhile, sat and glowered. She looked up and he began to write.
   
They finally finished. “Let’s exchange complaints,” he said and they passed their lists across the table.
   
She glanced at his sheet and pleaded, “Give mine back!” All down his sheet he had written: “I love you, I love you, I love you.” I presume he gave the paper back, for their children remember that moment with humor and fondness.
   
As much as I enjoy romance, it’s commitment that I need the most. I need to know a love I can depend on, a love that says, “I will be with you through it all. I love you. And I will love you even when you may not be all that lovable, for sometimes I'm not very lovable either. You can count on me - always.”

Maybe love is mysterious, but that kind of love is solid. Rock solid. And, of all the faces of love, it's my favorite.

-- Steve Goodier

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No Strings Attached

Image by Adrian

How important is it to offer our love, especially to those closest to us, with no strings attached? 

Ernest Hemingway wrote a poignant short story called “The Capital of the World.” In it he tells about a Spanish father who wants to reconcile with his son who has run away to Madrid. In order to locate the boy he takes out this ad in the El Liberal newspaper: "Paco, meet me at the Hotel Montana at noon on Tuesday. All is forgiven. Love, Papa."

Paco is a common name in Spain, and when the father goes to the square he finds 800 young men named Paco waiting for their fathers.

What drew them to the hotel? As Hemingway tells it, it was the words “All is forgiven.” I notice that the father did not say, “All WILL BE forgiven IF you do this or that.” Not, “All WILL BE forgiven WHEN you do such and such.” He simply says, “All is forgiven.” No strings attached.

And that’s the hard part – un-attaching the strings. Wiktionary tells us that the origin of the expression “no strings attached” may go back to ancient times when documents were written on parchment that were rolled up and secured with a string. The Babylonian Talmud in Tractate Bava Metzi'a tells of a man who gives his wife a bill of divorce on such a parchment, but holds onto the string so that he can snatch it back, should he choose to do so. The divorce, therefore, is not considered valid since he will not give it freely. Similarly, love, forgiveness or friendship that is given with strings and conditions attached are a sham and not valid, since they can be snatched back at any time.

An unknown author beautifully portrays the possibilities of no-strings-attached love in this heartfelt story titled “The Rock.”

As she grew older her teenage daughter became increasingly rebellious. It culminated late one night when the police arrested her daughter for drunk driving. Mom had to go to the police station to pick her up.

They didn’t speak until the next afternoon.

Mom broke the tension by giving her a small gift- wrapped box. Her daughter nonchalantly opened it and found a little rock inside. 

She rolled her eyes and said, “Cute, Mom, what’s this for?”
“Read the card,” Mom instructed.

Her daughter took the card out of the envelope and read it. Tears started to trickle down her cheeks. She got up and lovingly hugged her mom as the card fell to the floor.

On the card were these words: “This rock is more than 200,000,000 years old. That is how long it will take before I give up on you.”

This mother is not saying, “I will love you IF…” Instead she says that she will love her daughter forever and nothing can change that. No strings attached.

When we learn to love like that, I think we’ll understand the words of Emmett Fox, who said, “If you could only love enough, you could be the most powerful person in the world.”

-- Steve Goodier

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Take Me "As Is"

On her 50th wedding anniversary, a woman revealed the secret of her long and happy marriage. She said, “On my wedding day, I decided to make a list of ten of my husband’s faults which, for the sake of the marriage, I would overlook.”

One of her guests asked her what some of the faults she chose to overlook were. “To tell you the truth,” she replied, “I never did get around to making that list. But whenever my husband did something that made me hopping mad, I would say to myself, ‘Lucky for him that’s one of the ten!’”

It’s nice to decide what to overlook. In relationships, I get plenty of practice overlooking the foibles of other people. And I suspect they get plenty of practice with me, too.

As they hung wallpaper together, one husband became frustrated with his wife. She seemed, to him, to be indifferent about the quality of her work. He felt she was doing a poor job. He finally put it into words this way: "The problem is that I'm a perfectionist and you're not."  

"Exactly!" she replied. "That's why you married me and I married you!"

Miss Not-So-Perfect certainly did one thing well. She knew how to overlook annoying observations from her perfectionist husband.

We human beings are nothing if not flawed and imperfect. But, the point is, people are not meant to be without blemish. We’re scraped and scarred, flawed on the inside and marred on outside. It’s just the way we are. (Sometimes I think it’s one of our more endearing qualities.) I never want to forget that “perfect” is only found in the dictionary.  

Even pottery may be closer to perfection than we humans, if Belleek Pottery in Ireland is any example. I hear that every finished piece there undergoes a final inspection. It is held up to a fierce, bright light and examined for imperfections.  If even the slightest flaw is detected, the cup or plate or vase or sugar bowl is smashed to pieces. That’s right. The blemished piece is never sold as a “second.” If Belleek pottery is not flawless, it is reckoned to be no good at all. No doubt other makers of fine china and crystal operate the same way.

I surely cannot stand up to that kind of scrutiny. I have flaws I haven’t even begun to explore yet.

How much pain prompted the words of that sensitive artist Vincent van Gogh when he lamented, "I wish they would only take me as I am." How many times a day are those words repeated by countless people feeling the sting of rejection? To be accepted as one is and not discarded as useless is more than just a wish; it is a deep, human need.

All of us sport an invisible sign around our necks -- “AS IS.” It means, take me as I am. I may not become what you want me to be. And I’m far, far from perfect. But I have some great qualities, too, as well as my share of faults. You will have to take me “AS IS” and I’ll take you that way, too.

AS IS will be the best guarantee any of us can offer. But quite frankly, most of the time we’re getting a pretty good deal.

-- Steve Goodier

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Image: flickr.com/Arturo Espinosa

An Unforgettable Magic Moment

Something magical once really happened in Cinderella's Castle in Florida's Disney World. Children and parents were crowded into a room waiting for Cinderella's appearance. She made a dramatic entrance and the children clamored around her.

Whoever hired the young woman to play the role of Cinderella found a remarkable match. She was perfect. Flawless skin; beautiful face; bright eyes and smile; and, she was costumed exquisitely. She looked as if the cartoon character had come to life.

The children wanted to touch her and have her wave her wand over their heads. She smiled down at them and the room was electric with excitement.

Electric for everyone except two boys, apparently brothers, who stood next to a far wall, away from the other children. The older boy held the hand of the younger, much smaller boy, whose body and face were disfigured.

The look in the young boy's eyes was that of yearning. How he wanted to be with Cinderella. How he wanted to be a part of the other children. But he held back, probably out of fear. He had likely been hurt too many times before by children who didn't understand.

But unexpectedly, Cinderella turned and saw the boys. And she must have noticed the longing in the little one's face, for she slowly made her way through the throng, inching toward the far wall.

Then something magical happened. Cinderella did the most remarkable thing -- something I'm sure she never learned in Cinderella Training Class. She bent down and kissed the little boy's face. He smiled a big and beautiful smile. Cinderella kissed him!

Could anything be so wonderful? Cinderella kissed him. Out of all of the children in that room, Cinderella kissed him. No matter what happens to him, he'll always have that -- Cinderella kissed him.

And when he looks into the mirror he will always see the face that Cinderella kissed looking back. Who knows... for months, for years, maybe forever stings and barbs of life will hurt a little less. And he will stand a bit taller and feel a little more special. He'll never forget that... something magical happened... the day Cinderella kissed him.

-- Steve Goodier

Image by Joe Penniston