KingMidget's Ramblings

Pull up a chair. Let's talk.

Tag Archives: Love

Speak From Your Heart

“Good.  Good.  Now you owe me something.  I have fed you and told you my secrets and, yet, I do not even know your name.  Keep your troubles to yourself, but … what is your name?”

“Kelvin.  Kelvin Rockwell.  My friends call me Kel.  My kids, when they want to rile me, call me Kellie.  They got that from their mother.  They get great joy out of annoying me.”

“Ah.  Niños.  Cuantos?  How many?”

“Two boys.  Spence and Jason.  Spence is thirteen, almost fourteen.  Jason is only four and still thinks that he just might get to see real steam come out of my ears if he angers me enough.”

“Hmmmmm,” the old man mused.  “Two boys.  You must love them very much.”

“Of course I do.”

“Pero?  But?”

“But what?”

“Por favor, please, Señor Rockwell.  You have two boys at home.  Yet you are sitting across my table from me, eating my beans and rice and Isabella’s tortillas.  On your face, I can see mucho dolor.  You are a pained man.  It is written into your skin.  You are here instead of at home with your Spence and Jason.  I ask you again.  What is it that troubles you?”

“I . . . I love my kids.”

“Si, naturalmente.  You have told me this.”

I drained the last of the beer and put the bottle on the table in front of me.  I began to scratch at the paper label on the bottle as I began to scratch at the surface of my pain.  “I don’t know if it’s enough anymore.”  I shrugged and looked at Father Santos, hoping that was enough to satisfy him.

“Señor.  Talk.  Talk with this,” he sighed, pointing at his chest, “instead of this.”  He pointed at his head.  “Let go.  Don’t be afraid to feel what you are feeling.”

“Father Santos, you’re asking me to say something I’ve never said before.  To . . .”

“Señor Rockwell, tienes que hablar de tu corazon.  Ay.  I am asking you to do nothing more than to speak from your heart.  You come here for a reason I do not know.  Maybe in the morning you will leave, but I doubt you will leave any wiser.  It is a long trip to make for nothing more than a plate of rice and beans and a couple of cervezas.  Even Isabella’s tortillas, as good as they may be, are not worth such a trip.”

The blurb on Weed Therapy may suggest otherwise, but thus begins Father Santos’s first lesson for the woebegone Kelvin Rockwell.

Tell me if you’ve done this.  It’s an internal conversation that goes on entirely inside your head and leaves you frozen, unable to speak what you feel.  Something like this:

I really wish my husband would stop spending so much time drinking with his friends and spending more time with me.  And the kids.  I can’t believe he keeps doing it.  It makes me worry so much.  I wish I could make him understand that he’s missing out on so much.  And that I miss him.  I need to tell him.  But, he’ll just tell me to back off or stop being such a worry wart.  Or, then we’ll start fighting and I don’t want to fight.

And, how do those conversations typically go?  You end up talking yourself out of starting it.  That little nitpicky fear tacked on to the internal conversation tells you to stop.  Don’t do it.  And then weeks or months later something happens and it ends up like this:

Why the hell can’t you clean up after yourself?  I’m so fuckin’ tired of cleaning up dirty dishes in the sink that you leave behind.  But, I guess you never notice since you’re never here.  Right?  Why should you care about the dishes if you’re always out with your friends?  You think you could stay home and spend some time with your kids every once in awhile.  At least.

Father Santos’ first lesson for Kelvin Rockwell is that he should speak with his heart instead of his head. Too often the emotions ruled by your head are those that lead to fear and uncertainty.  When you should speaking your feelings you are drawn away from them.  We all fear this.  The reaction we’ll get if we say what we really think and what we really feel.  Instead, our head stops by warning us.  Don’t.  Do.  It.

What this is really about for me is the most basic of elements required for a solid relationship.  Not just a marriage, but it applies to any friendship, and even employer-employee relationships as well.  Communication.  Feel what you feel and speak it.  Don’t be afraid.  Don’t let your head stop you.  Don’t let your inner control rationalize away the need to share with those around you how you feel.  Even if it is an ache.  Even if it hurts.  Even if you aren’t sure how they will react.

I’ve had a few experiences in my lifetime where the ability to speak freely created the basis for the most incredible friendships I have ever had.  One in particular will always stick out as the creme de la creme — the most perfect example of this.  I laid the ground rule from the start.  I said communication is the key.  That everything and anything must be shared.  It turned into the most incredible thing I ever experienced and I learned from that.  If you speak from your heart to someone who is receptive to it (and, yes, that is a whole other issue), nothing but good can follow.

Speak from your heart.  With love and forgiveness.  Ignore the fear and uncertainty that clouds your head.

Day #9: A Love Poem (or maybe A Poem about Love)

Love sucks

Love stinks

Love hurts

God is love

Jesus preached love

Clinton loved, if you know what I mean

What the world needs now is love, sweet love

I believe in love

All you need is love

I love you

You love me

Love makes the world go round

Romantic love

Familial love

Unconditional love

What is love

Why do we love

How do we love

Love is you

Love is me

Love is the homeless man on the corner

Love yourself and you’ll be loved

Love me and you’ll be loved

Love and be loved

Love is simple

Love is hard

Love is a mystery

Love is easy

Love is never easy

Love is work

Love is want

Love is need

Love is desire

Love is passion

Love is hot, greasy sex

Love is a touch

Love is a look

Love is a word

Love is a kiss

Love is this

Love is that

Love is a flower left on a desk

Love is a random note in the pages of a book

Love is a small thing done

Love is a large thing forgiven

Love is shared pain

Love is given joy

Love is happiness

Love is sadness

Love will find a way

Love is the answer

Love is a second

Love is a moment

Love is an hour

Love is a day

Love is a lifetime

Love is …

It’s Rather Simple … or is it?

We are all born for love.  It is the principle of existence, and its only end.
— Benjamin Disraeli

I have this fascinating combination of an email conversation with a friend of 25 years and conversations with a co-worker and friend that has led to one of my epiphanies.

My long-time friend when I met her was married.  Her marriage lasted eleven years.  There was plenty of blame to go around as to why their marriage failed.  Let’s just say it did.  But, an unusual thing happened in the failing of their marriage.  They remained friends.  They maintained a connection.  Years later, my friend remarried to a man I met through her.

In our email exchange, she shared that her current husband knew that she was still in a “relationship” with her former husband.  That marrying her meant that he would also be asked to be a part of her former husband’s life.  That they still had that connection and there was nothing he could do about it.

Fifteen years after their divorce, my friend’s former husband died of cancer.  She spent the last few months of his life helping take care of him.  Half of her time, in those final months, was spent at his side.  During all of that time, they began to perform what she referred to as an autopsy of their marriage.

For the first time, they began to sharing their feelings from that time.  She told him what she did wrong.  He told her what he did wrong.  She told him what she thought he did wrong.  He told her what he thought she had done wrong.  They had this incredibly profound conversation as his days dwindled — talking about where they were way back when, the assumptions and false beliefs they  had about each other.  Things they had never talked about before.  It wasn’t easy.  They probably ripped a few holes in each other.

But … well … wow.  Why does it take somebody being on their death bed to have that kind of conversation?  Why are afraid to confront our loved ones pains and fears and help them heal?  Why aren’t we capable of bearing our soul to our loved ones?

Monday, I had lunch with a friend.  She’s much younger than I, but she’s at a place in her life where she’s ready get married.  She wants to get married.  She wants to find the love of her life and be happy forever.  As the days go by and that doesn’t happen, she worries more.

So, I talk to her about my theories.  To me, it’s rather simple … be yourself, do the things you want to do, and you’ll find him.  Just be who you are and it’ll happen.  You can’t make it happen.  It has to be a natural thing.

We talk, too, about what she should do once she finds that guy and her happiness.  Monday, I mentioned the email exchange I had with my other friend (I think) and I talked about how there are all these things we describe as “working” on your relationship or your marriage.  And I said to her, it’s not supposed to be work.  If you’re with somebody where there is a real and mutual love, it’s not work.  It comes naturally.  If it doesn’t come naturally, well, why the hell not?  Why marry somebody with whom you have to actually work at it.

No, here’s the deal.  You marry somebody because you choose to.  Why choose to marry somebody with whom you have to work at it?  You marry the person for whom those things and feelings are effortless.

Yeah, yeah, I know.  I’m an idealist and a romantic.  I can’t argue that good, strong relationships do take effort.  And work.

But, it should be pleasurable work … like, well, for me, making a pizza or writing a story.  It’s work that you get something out of.

I told my friend that if you really love somebody and they love you, there should be something every day that’s done to show it.  You can’t ever assume it (see above with my other friend).  You have to show it, express it, share it, live it.  I told her that every day there should be a  conversation.  It could last two minutes, or fifteen, or maybe sometimes for three hours.  And it begins with this … what’s going on with you?  No, not “how was work today?”  Not “How are you?”  No.  No. No.  It’s sitting down next to your loved on, holding on to their hand or wrapping your foot around their ankle and asking, “What’s going on with you?  Tell me.”  And, then being open to whatever that answer is.  Share the happiness and the pain.

I came up with a different daily question this morning … what do you need from me today?  You love this person, this is the person you chose to live the rest of your life with.  THE ONLY PERSON FOR WHOM YOU MAKE THAT CHOICE.  Who most people then spend years taking for granted.  Sacrifice a little, give a bit, share the hurt, grow together.  Every day.  Just that little bit of you.  Give it up.

Is this unreasonable?  Am I totally whacked?  Why is this so difficult?  Why do we end so many relationships in anger and confusion?  Why do we so frequently look back after somebody has left us and say, I wish I had  said …?  Say it now while you have the chance.

Thank you for reading my ramble … please go back to your regularly scheduled programming.

%d bloggers like this: