Every word is true.
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The
Pink Room: Thoughts About Intentional Living
Chapter
8/ Change of Heart.
Part
3 (Previous post contain the previous chapters.)
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I
read this newsletter not too long ago that said if we judge others we don’t
really love ourselves. It caused me to stop and think. I would have classified
myself as a people-watcher around that time, is that judging? Did that mean I
didn’t really love myself?
There
was another newsletter, a few weeks later that caught my eye as well. That one
said: every person you date teaches you something about yourself, and what you
are ready for, what you attract--until you find the person you are meant to be
with. I immediately recounted the dates I’d been on, trying to identify what
the universe, at large, might be trying to “teach” me about what I need or
attract.
After
my college boyfriend, I very briefly went out with a fraternity boy. He told me
he really liked me, I was heart-broken and it seemed like a good idea at the
time—so, we went out a few times. Ironically, one of those was probably the
best date I have ever been on. A drive through the mountains, a waterfall, an
out of the way pizza place, and some air hockey—it was so much fun; it was too
bad I didn’t like him more. (I’m such a jerk.) When he realized I wasn’t giving
anything away, he found another girl to “like” in a more tangible way. We
parted, I was okay with that. I’m not sure what I learned—maybe that it was
dumb for someone like me, who wants to be married someday, to casually date.
I
have a litany of awful first-dates that ensued after college. Like the guy who
opened with, “I like to wear costumes.” I asked, “So you mean…at Halloween?” (…struggling
to find kind sounding words and not appear to be utterly shocked.) And the
response I was not prepared to hear: he replied, “No, anytime.” At this point,
I looked around for hidden cameras. (Not kidding.) I found it hard to be polite
and not bolt for the door. I learned I do not appreciate year-around cosplay.
There
was the guy who decided to monitor my food intake, split the bill, take the
leftover pizza, and as I excused myself to use the rest room he asked, “Are you
coming back?” Sooooo many thoughts occurred to me in that one moment.
Compassion, then “how many times has THAT happened to you?” Then, “that’s not a
terrible idea…no no no…stop thinking like that!” I did return to the table, I
didn’t want to, I shouldn’t have—my reward: a thirty minute lecture on why
global warming doesn’t exist—for, or against, that is not okay. I learned that
if you make me split the bill, I don’t appreciate it when you take my
leftovers.
There
was the guy, who (I’m assuming) had such bad gas he couldn’t leave the table; either
that or a version of narcolepsy that leaves one appearing awake. He was making very
strange faces. Puffed out cheeks, wide eyes, staring at the table for what
seemed like an eternity. I asked if he was okay three times and he never
responded. (We were sitting at the table together, across from one another.) We
had been talking, it suddenly ended. I remember feeling incredibly
uncomfortable. He finally started acting normal-ish again, completely ignoring
the previous, incredibly strange, ten minutes. This is the guy who asked, “Your
clock must really be tickin’, huh?” He didn’t seem to think any of that was odd
or off or inappropriate. He asked if I wanted to go to a movie after dinner. I
said no. I said I needed to go home because I was tired--it was 7 o’clock. I
never did find out what happened with the staring at the table cheek thing. But
I learned it stresses me out when people pretend I do not exist on a whim.
I
had a date that went well once, we met and talked and he seemed kind and
normal. BUT THEN, because I need stories to tell, as we left the food
establishment a young man stopped us. I mean no disrespect but it was a guy who
was obviously mentally handicapped, about twenty five years old and driving an
adult tricycle with a helmet on. He stopped the guy I was with and asked if it
was his motorcycle. When he said yes, the young man pressed for where his helmet
was. I am not making this up either: The guy didn’t wear a helmet. The young
man then told a harrowing story about being younger, driving his motorcycle
without a helmet and getting into a terrible wreck at high speeds—he suffered
severe brain damage and said he should be dead. I swear I saw that poor guy,
easily 6’5”, shrink and shrink and shrink some more…by the time the boy was
done with his story, and my date was dead inside. Not to minimize the severity
of any of it, but the only thing I could think was, “Welp, I’ll never see him
again!” I learned that timing is EVERYTHING.
Here
and there I will go on a date just to check. I think to make sure I’m still
supposed to be single. It always seems like a good idea, until later, when it only
seems like proof. So far all the testing confirms--I am still supposed to be
single.
My
last boyfriend seemed great, until his job took him across the country. It was
supposed to be for a three months. I will never know the whole story; I am no
longer in touch. From my end, someone I thought was wonderful, and said he
wanted to marry me, moved and then shortly there-after stopped communicating
altogether. That was it; one day dreams, the next day nothing—I had been, as
they say, ghosted. I thought very highly of him until all that. I was told by
mutual friends he wanted to stay on the Left Coast and didn’t know how to tell
me. So he simply didn’t. Not one word. Someone who could completely shut out the
one he claimed to want to be with, to marry, isn’t someone I want. (My judging
wasn’t so secretive on that one.) I am thankful I was spared a marriage to
someone who could go radio silent—that would kill me over time. I learned that
sometimes what seems like bad timing is a blessing in disguise.
Hearts
change. Just like the series of heart paintings I did. It started with one with
slashes, one of the next was half zipped, the last heart was whole (with a half
brain and a bird with it, but I digress.) They evolved.
Those
dates prove it isn’t time yet. When I look closely, I can see God’s hand in it
all—it doesn’t make it less exhausting, disappointing, or painful. I’m not sure
about the newsletter wisdom though. I believe in spite of all that, I’ll
continue to hope and believe in God’s ultimate plan. I also believe I was saved
from a life of even greater disappointment and pain.
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We
can get ahead of God and try to make Him bless our plans. Or we can lag behind
and He goes on without us, I think sometimes He finds others to listen and
bless when we don’t listen or we don't get the whole blessing—I can’t prove this.
God
can’t be pushed or pulled, but we are free so He will allow us to go out in
front and try to lead when we get a spur. He will also let us lag behind what
He is doing, and won’t bug us about it; we will just miss the blessing that is
held within the situation. But we are given several chances most of the time,
it seems; He just gets quieter and quitter about the prompts.
If
we follow his lead, in all things, small or big, I’ve found that keeping pace
with God is the key. When we learn how to accept and submit to what God is
doing in our lives, no matter how confusing or momentarily painful, we will
find peace when we seek His plan ahead of our own.
