A wee rant

I have been told that I am lucky to have the relationship that I do with my hobbitt. I have also been told repeatedly and by many different sources (books, friends, magazine articles) that good relationships are hard work.

Bullshit and bullshit. And this isn't about you, reader. It's about me, about hobbitt and me. Your mileage may vary.

It wasn't luck that brought him into my life and it wasn't luck that makes our marriage the peaceful oasis that is has always been. I recognized him right away when I met him, not as a potential mate but as an extraordinary man. Years later when we found each other, after some difficult life changes for both of us, he recognized me, too. Having learned from those difficult life changes, we treated each other with great kindness from the get-go. I had a lot to learn about relationship, though, and his confident, generous, easy and honest demeanor made me want to be like that, too. I had to re-learn so many behavior patterns. It wasn't hard. To paraphrase from "As Good As It Gets", he made me want to be a better woman, and slowly, with effort and attention, I accomplished that. I had to learn about honesty - not just being honest with someone else, but about being honest with myself and owning up to my feelings, both the good and the bad, and admitting my wants, needs, and expectations. And voicing them. And not being shy about it.

But it hasn't been hard work. It's been attention and caregiving; living, truly living both sides of "better or worse"; an ebb and flow of responsibility and leeway; witnessing each other's trials and always showing up. There is no judgment, a huge healthy dose of acceptance, close scrutiny of ourselves, and a continual striving for impeccability for ourselves and with each other. We both encourage the other to be whatever it is we're supposed to, or want to be, without expectations or a personal stake. He's going to love me if I fail. I'm going to love him no matter what. That's what I signed up for. That's not work. That's a personal credo, a way of life. That's the kind of person I want to be.

And maybe that's the key. Be the person you want to be honestly and impeccably and let the chips fall where they may. If you try this, you may, like me, lose some friendships that need to be let go, because for some reason they are toxic in your life. The ones that come to fill the void will be true and wonderful because you have become true and wonderful.

I'm still a jerk a lot of the time. I get depressed and stagger under great inertia. My house is dusty. I'm fat. I'm not living up to my full potential in a myriad of ways. But I got one thing right. I've learned to recognize the gifts that the divine hand puts in my path, and I don't hesitate to pick them up or believe deep in my heart that I deserve them. Like this home, my friends, the redtails that soared through the woods out back this afternoon as I was tending the feeders, and the precious presence of my hobbitt.

I've learned that generosity of spirit doesn't take anything out of my own pocket. Seems like an obvious thing but I didn't know that. I was raised with resentment, withdrawal of affection and fear-based behaviors which led to a stinginess that did no one any good.

The first recipient of that generosity (after myself, that is) is my life's partner. And that's real easy.