A solo hike up Mount Benson today – lots of time to be at peace and to let my mind wander in thought.
As it turned out, my thoughts pretty well got stuck on the concept of choice. Not too long ago, I posted something about “Today I choose joy.” Yes – I said that joy is a choice.
I believe that to be true. But that isn’t the only choice I get to make every day. I get to choose how I experience my life. I get to choose so many things. I was always struck by what one of my best friends said once about her marriage. Every day, she said, she woke up beside her wife with the mantra, “I choose you.”
Every day – to choose the same person. That is commitment. And I believe it’s at least one of the secrets, if not the ultimate secret, to a successful relationship. Every day, in present time, we recommit to that person. We choose them. No matter if they have bad breath or they’re grumpy or they snored all night – we choose. them.
My friend, Julie and I were discussing something similar on our walk yesterday. The idea that there are almost 8 billion people in this world. Out of that number, there are, at the very least, about a million or so that I could love and live with. I do not believe in the “one soul mate for me” idea. I believe we are all one and we are joined anyway – we are all soul mates because we are, at heart, all beautiful souls.
But back to what I was saying. – so what do I do if there are a million potential mates? Vet them all? Try to meet them all? Post on every dating site? Give it a shot? Or do I find someone who I love and then choose them.
And commit to being with that one person.
So – in the end – here’s is what I am striving for: to choose joy. To choose love. To choose kindness. To choose to be responsible for the experience of my life. to choose honesty. To choose vulnerability. To choose learning and growth. To choose courage. To choose one person and to make that choice every day.
And how good and perfect am I at all this? Well, today I had a rip-roaring fight with Gary when I got home. He’s been picking my raspberries. I said, “Please stop.” He said he would not because they are not mine. Yes, I planted them and I looked after them but the cuttings are originally from his berries 20 years ago so they are his and he’s going to pick them. So I yelled at him and he yelled back.
Whew! I am so bad at confrontation. I mean, I didn’t back down but nothing is resolved and I feel terribly unenlightened.
Not kind. Not full of love.