Not long ago I realized that I really did find love. Those who read my book Sex, Love and the search for Meaning (excerpts are available on this site) know that it has always been my experience that love, between man and woman and between friends as well, is something that has to be learned.
What kind of love am I talking about?
I can’t remember what we had squabbled about – oh yes, it was money and the daunting prospect of especially Rod having to generate more of it to get out of the debt built up by going to Germany together for two months. We could not agree on how to begin to think about stuffing the hole in the bank account and so we went our own ways for a little while. When we saw each other again, making dinner at night, Rod asked something, about vegetables or shopping and I could tell right away, from the sound of his voice that he was taking care of whatever his part of the squabble had been. He was not going to be victimized, not going to be grumpy or moody because of some difficulty, but was willing to look as deeply as he possibly could into himself and into what he could do. And, likewise, I was doing my part – particularly letting go of the burning desire to control and to make rash decisions out of blind worry and fear.
That’s when I realized that yes, this is love- this freedom of concern about the other that draws me more deeply into trusting life itself and that keeps making me respect Rod – and myself – more and more deeply.