“The most precious gift we can offer anyone is our attention. When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers.” – Thich Nhat Hanh
It took me the better of the day, Sunday, to realize I had been ruminating. This wasn’t your garden variety kind of brooding – there were no long and sorrowful hours… it was a come-and-go type of rumination, a hit and run type of rumination, a periodic rumination, a rumination with a dozen small triggers and even a few soft-sighed pleasantries. It, the rumination, was tangentially related to the season – the crisp air, the mottled sky, the slowing down, and the deeper appreciation for warmth where one can find it (warm cider, hot chocolate, fireplace, red wine, a favorite blanket, the long embrace and nuzzle of another).
This may have been building.
Last week I went to see one of my favorite bands – Wild Child. Love them though I do, their songs lean into the melancholy and bittersweet. I think the last time I saw them was with my daughter and a woman I was more than a little fond of. I had two tickets to last week’s show – as I do for almost every show I go to. I had invited someone who I met the week before. She was busy. In a way, I was slightly relieved – it felt like it might have been too intimate of a space to share.
On Friday night, I saw a couple at my local bar. The woman reminded me of an ex – not so much in the way she looked (though maybe a little), but in the warmth and wonder she exuded. She seemed genuinely happy. You can see these things in the way people smile and laugh. You can see these things in their body language and the way they seem to observe the world. It was that look, that air about her, that reminded me of why I liked that particular ex. It was that look that reminded me of what’s been missing from many of the people I’ve met in the past few years.
When the woman I invited to the concert declined, she suggested we do a spontaneous hang sometime. I replied, sure – depending on what I’m doing in the moment of spontaneity. The problem I was having with her suggestion was that she has admitted that she’s not one to text very much or very often. I love the idea of a spontaneous get together… but if one party is only checking messages every few days, it significantly decreases the chances of successfully, spontaneously, getting together. Nevertheless, I recently suggested a same-day, spontaneous meetup. Unsurprisingly, it went unanswered.
This speaks to a larger challenge I see playing out across many of the people I encounter in the online dating space. Many profiles claim to want a committed and long-term partnership. Many profiles claim that they want someone with whom they can do things and spend their time with. But the actions seldom support the language. In my limited experience, a lot of people struggle to make time for connections. I’ve been guilty of this as well. Not sure what to do about it.
I’m a firm believer that the best relationships eventually move past urgency and reciprocity – or at least reciprocity. They settle into a slow burn and kind of natural generosity born from curiosity. I also believe that early on, for anything to take root, there has to be a sense of positive momentum and enthusiasm. There has to be something that captures our attention and draws us in – and the pacing/frequency of which seems important. I find that if communication is happening on a once a week basis, there’s a good chance I’m going to lose the thread of the conversation – especially if I’m talking to other people. For me, there has to be a level of intensity that maintains my interest – which feels childish and immature. I hate to admit that I need someone to show serious interest in order for me to show it back – yet there it is. However, psychology suggests that I’m not necessarily wrong – that gazing into another’s eyes, sharing memories, retelling stories all reinforce the bonds that are being built. Without some consistency, without reciprocity, I tend to give up pretty easily. I tend to walk away – not in a petulant or angry “you’re dead to me” sort of way, but in a “if you want to meet up again you know how to find me” sort of way… but the longer that takes, the less likely I’ll be into it. More and more, I’m finding that I’m not willing to extend myself or give chase.
This, too, was a contributing factor to the ruminations. Any time that I survey the landscape and think to myself, “this should be easier,” I’m reminded of those few magical times when it was easier – when the connection was effortless – when the attraction was so strong that there was no question about getting together again and again and again and again. I’m reminded of what could bloom when two people are curious and enthusiastic about getting to know one another – when attention is paid in equal and increasing measure.
As time ticked away and the spontaneous get together seemed increasingly unlikely, I went my own way. I bought an oversized cookie at the farmers’ market. I had a nice lunch in my apartment followed by coffee and the cookie. I read and wrote. I walked to City Lights Books and bought a few books of poetry. I stopped at the grocery store on my way home and then made a strip steak with a butter/shallot/wine reduction and some grilled asparagus and cherry tomatoes. But it definitely felt like the kind of day worth sharing or the kind of day I used to share. The kind of day that might lead to hit and run ruminations – remembrances of things past and the attention we sometimes crave and usually deserve.