Showing posts with label soul mates. Show all posts
Showing posts with label soul mates. Show all posts
Monday, November 5, 2012
Glaciers move faster than this relationship . . .
So I’ve been seeing this guy for a year. In that time, we’ve progressed from 1-2 emails per week and lunch/movie on Saturday to … 1-2 emails per week plus lunch/movie on Saturday. My birthday was last week. All I got was an email afterthought - at the end of the email, “hope you’re having a good birthday.”
He’s nice. I like him. I enjoy the time we do spend together, and it’s nice to have someone buy me lunch and take me to a movie every week. But in that time, he’s never reached for my hand and when I told him he was allowed to kiss me, he blushed and stammered.
All that to say - if you happen to run into Gerard Butler, Karl Urban, Richard Armitage, Michael Fassbender, Joe Manganiello, or Jeremy Renner, or even a nice normal guy who’s not so damn shy that he can’t even take my hand, please feel free to send him my way. He must be willing to overlook the facts that I’m still working on my weight issue, probably can’t have children, and won’t give up my cats - which, now that I think about it, are probably the reasons I’m still single. *sigh*
Monday, September 24, 2012
Real Man, Real Genius
So I was rewriting my List of Necessary Attributes in a Man, as you do when you suffer from POMS,* and I realized that all these years, I've left out one very necessary attribute: The ability to quote the movie Real Genius at appropriate moments. If the following conversation occurs, then I've finally met The One:
He: If there's ever anything I can do for you, or more to the point, to you, just let me know.
Me: Can you hammer a nail through a six-inch board with your penis?
He: Not right now.
Me: A girl's gotta have her standards.
You see, a man who can go through that entire scene with the right attitude - well, that right there is what we Texas girls call A Keeper.
*Permanent Old Maid Syndrome. POMS is an all-too-common condition that strikes a woman who has reached the age of 35 without ever being married. It consists of three or more of the following symptoms:
- A plenitude of cats;
- A lack of a social life ("social life" here defined as three or more non-work-related outings with other human beings per week and/or at least two romantic outings per week);
- Thorough knowledge of Doctor Who, the works of Jane Austen, and/or the works of Charlotte Bronte;
- Virginity, whether actual or technical;
- An inability to compromise social or moral standards for the sake of marital status;
- An inability to disguise or abandon intellect for the sake of marital status; and
- The ability to establish and maintain self-identity without the approval of others.
POMS can only be self-diagnosed. It can never be diagnosed for another woman, and it never occurs prior to the age of 35, but its onset can be later in life.
He: If there's ever anything I can do for you, or more to the point, to you, just let me know.
Me: Can you hammer a nail through a six-inch board with your penis?
He: Not right now.
Me: A girl's gotta have her standards.
You see, a man who can go through that entire scene with the right attitude - well, that right there is what we Texas girls call A Keeper.
*Permanent Old Maid Syndrome. POMS is an all-too-common condition that strikes a woman who has reached the age of 35 without ever being married. It consists of three or more of the following symptoms:
- A plenitude of cats;
- A lack of a social life ("social life" here defined as three or more non-work-related outings with other human beings per week and/or at least two romantic outings per week);
- Thorough knowledge of Doctor Who, the works of Jane Austen, and/or the works of Charlotte Bronte;
- Virginity, whether actual or technical;
- An inability to compromise social or moral standards for the sake of marital status;
- An inability to disguise or abandon intellect for the sake of marital status; and
- The ability to establish and maintain self-identity without the approval of others.
POMS can only be self-diagnosed. It can never be diagnosed for another woman, and it never occurs prior to the age of 35, but its onset can be later in life.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Soul Mates (Eat, Pray, Love Reaction Post #1)
Although I do love not having to consult someone before deciding to spend the weekend with friends, sole ownership of the remote control, and the three warm feline bodies snuggled up against mine during sleepy time, I must admit – I hate being single. All my life, all I ever wanted to be was a wife and mother, and now, with 40 looming large on the horizon, it appears likely that I will be neither.
So it was with amazement a few years ago that I met and promptly fell for Claude.* Claude was everything that I thought I wanted in a man – tall, strong, gentle, a good father, hard worker, animal lover, cowboy. He also came with a trainload of baggage. Serious baggage, the sort of baggage that made friends and family wonder if I had taken leave of my senses when we became involved.
One of the things I loved about Claude was that we never fought. We had disagreements, some of which were pretty serious, but we were always able to speak calmly and work them out. I loved his children, and they loved me. I thought that God had finally sent me my soul-mate, and that we would live together, if not always easily, then at least happily.
But then Claude’s ex-wife finished serving her prison sentence for the negligent homicide of their youngest son (see above reference to Serious Baggage), and suddenly – he wasn’t in love with me any more. He stood in my living room and looked me in the eye while he broke my heart.
What happened? Didn’t we value the same things? Have the same tastes, like the same music, watch the same movies, talk for hours about things both meaningless and meaningful? Wasn’t he my soul mate? What happened to
"happily ever after"???
I’ve long since stopped crying over him, and can’t think of a single circumstance under which I’d ever take him back, but the soul mate question lingered. Then my dear friend Caitlin** told me to read Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. There was a particular conversation she told me to pay attention to, and it is from this conversation that the following quote comes:
That paragraph describes what Claude did for me (which no one around me understood at the time). I’m a better version of myself for having loved him.
What a liberating concept! Yes, Claude was my soul mate. No, we were never meant to last forever. Be glad that it happened, not sorry that it ended.
I still struggle with being single. I have to frequently remind myself of 1 Corinthians 7:34 - "An unmarried woman or virgin is concerned about the Lord's affairs: Her aim is to be devoted to the Lord in both body and spirit. But a married woman is concerned about the affairs of this world—how she can please her husband."
I have to remind myself that what I want more than anything else is to stand in front of my God and hear Him say, "Well done, good and faithful servant." If it means that I die childless and never having been married, then so be it.
And then last night I watched "The Buccaneers," based on Edith Wharton’s novel. At the end, the governess says to her friend, "I have lived without love for forty years. I shall probably manage to live another forty under the same terms."
Romantic love is great for them as has it. For the rest of us, there must be a reason. We may not ever know that reason, but perhaps we will be blessed enough to have a soul mate for a while, to teach us about ourselves.
------------
*Not his real name. I chose it because with the American pronunciation, it sounds like "clod," which is a pretty accurate description in retrospect.
**Not her real name, either. See the intro post.
† Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love, p. 149. Oh, and Richard-from-Austin, if you ever read this blog, I’d love to buy you a cup of coffee!
So it was with amazement a few years ago that I met and promptly fell for Claude.* Claude was everything that I thought I wanted in a man – tall, strong, gentle, a good father, hard worker, animal lover, cowboy. He also came with a trainload of baggage. Serious baggage, the sort of baggage that made friends and family wonder if I had taken leave of my senses when we became involved.
One of the things I loved about Claude was that we never fought. We had disagreements, some of which were pretty serious, but we were always able to speak calmly and work them out. I loved his children, and they loved me. I thought that God had finally sent me my soul-mate, and that we would live together, if not always easily, then at least happily.
But then Claude’s ex-wife finished serving her prison sentence for the negligent homicide of their youngest son (see above reference to Serious Baggage), and suddenly – he wasn’t in love with me any more. He stood in my living room and looked me in the eye while he broke my heart.
What happened? Didn’t we value the same things? Have the same tastes, like the same music, watch the same movies, talk for hours about things both meaningless and meaningful? Wasn’t he my soul mate? What happened to
"happily ever after"???
I’ve long since stopped crying over him, and can’t think of a single circumstance under which I’d ever take him back, but the soul mate question lingered. Then my dear friend Caitlin** told me to read Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. There was a particular conversation she told me to pay attention to, and it is from this conversation that the following quote comes:
Your problem is you don’t understand what that word means. People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that’s holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then they leave. And thank God for it.†
That paragraph describes what Claude did for me (which no one around me understood at the time). I’m a better version of myself for having loved him.
What a liberating concept! Yes, Claude was my soul mate. No, we were never meant to last forever. Be glad that it happened, not sorry that it ended.
I still struggle with being single. I have to frequently remind myself of 1 Corinthians 7:34 - "An unmarried woman or virgin is concerned about the Lord's affairs: Her aim is to be devoted to the Lord in both body and spirit. But a married woman is concerned about the affairs of this world—how she can please her husband."
I have to remind myself that what I want more than anything else is to stand in front of my God and hear Him say, "Well done, good and faithful servant." If it means that I die childless and never having been married, then so be it.
And then last night I watched "The Buccaneers," based on Edith Wharton’s novel. At the end, the governess says to her friend, "I have lived without love for forty years. I shall probably manage to live another forty under the same terms."
Romantic love is great for them as has it. For the rest of us, there must be a reason. We may not ever know that reason, but perhaps we will be blessed enough to have a soul mate for a while, to teach us about ourselves.
------------
*Not his real name. I chose it because with the American pronunciation, it sounds like "clod," which is a pretty accurate description in retrospect.
**Not her real name, either. See the intro post.
† Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love, p. 149. Oh, and Richard-from-Austin, if you ever read this blog, I’d love to buy you a cup of coffee!
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