Love’s Quietness: My Husband’s Everyday Valentine Gift

“True inward quietness…is not vacancy, but stability—the steadfastness of a single purpose.”
-Caroline Stephen

Last night I felt drawn to go back and read some journals from years past. I happened to pull out the one from my first semester in graduate school, the fall I met my husband, Brian. In reading some of my entries, I was struck by something: what I sensed in him and between us then is what I still sense today. And I needed the reminder.

“Sept. 29: Brian came over and we made dinner. Oh how it seems to just flow between us…He has a beautiful, kind presence… I find myself thinking of him as I meditate and pray, feeling a soft smile emerging from a deep space within me. I pray that God will direct my head and heart to what’s really at my core. Whatever God is up to – let God be up to it.”

“Oct 1: I have fallen for Brian. ‘Ahhhh!’ is all I can say. My heart is exhaling. There is a gentleness about him, a profound peacefulness…how can I be taken by someone from such a deep, soothing, peaceful place in me…Tonight he laid his head down on my lap and I just sat there petting his head. We sat like that in silence for an hour, our hands softly touching. No words…just ‘being.’ This is true grace. I am at peace, wrapped in peace, melting into Brian.”

I knew at the end of that first semester that we would be in each other’s lives. I saw within Brian a profound peace, a gentle and powerful stillness that made every cell in me exhale.

A decade later, life looks completely different than it did that first semester. A new town, tough pregnancies, two kiddos who are our greatest teachers, loneliness, sleepless nights, a mortgage, forgetting it’s recycling day, budgeting, births, deaths, and everything in between.

As I sat there reading these entries, I was struck by how, over the last few years, I have often been frustrated with Brian’s quietness. I’m not talking about the typical “wife wants to talk, husband is talked out” kind of frustration. For an introvert, Brian is actually really awesome about engaging me in conversation.

But rather this: I can get so frustrated thinking that Brian is not “in it with me” because he doesn’t “match” my inner emotional state – when I am stressed about getting out the door in the morning, worried about registering for preschool, packing for a family trip, or figuring out the grocery list.

Sometimes I have pulled back over the years, mistakenly thinking that I am “in it alone” when Brian is calm and quiet. And when we feel alone many of us protect ourselves, often retreating inward, withholding, cowering back, blaming, lashing out. And if you are anything like me, we push away the very thing we need.

But what I am coming to know and heal – through a lot of meditation! – is that my frustration and anger have nothing to do with Brian’s quiet. Just as Eckhart Tolle says, “You are never angry for the reason you think you are,” I am angry because I am filled with fear. Feeding that fear are old hurts, old patterns being relived, hijacking me while I stand in our kitchen, holding C., getting A. ready for school, searching for my keys, and talking harshly to Brian. It is the fear that “I am alone in this.” As I let that fear hijack me, it grows, I push Brian away, and I feel even more alone.

But the times when I acknowledge that I am starting to feel alone, breathe with it, and choose to connect to Brian, I receive the very thing I need: to be alongside a kind, stable, steadfast soul drawing me into a vast landscape of peace and tender love. Brian’s quietness is that peaceful landscape that holds and heals my fear of “being in it all alone.” In ways I never imagined that first New England fall when I fell in love with Brain, his quiet, gentle presence is actually my healing balm, a soothing salve that nourishes and strengthens me.

I once asked Brian when we first started dating what he believed his purpose was on this earth. He said, “To love.” I have written about how I have three (not one!) words for this year: soften, strengthen, and forgive. When I choose to turn toward those sweet blue eyes, Brian’s peaceful presence softens my worries, strengthens my light, and draws me into a sense of “home” within my own soul. THAT is Love. And I am grateful that Love forgives and embraces again and again.

Happy Valentine’s Day, sweet love.

On Our Son’s Fourth Birthday – Let Your Light Shine!

Our son turned four today. Our “baby” is a little boy! (tug, tug on the heart strings).

After a day hanging with grandma and grandpa, playing with his Spider-man webshooter and Batman cave, blowing out the candles on the so-very-healthy-carrrot muffins I made (pat on mama’s back!) which A. thinks are awesome, and tucking my little superhero into bed, I sat down on the couch, exhausted but content, to read a few emails. My friend Judy forwarded an email to me saying that today is Candlemas Eve, a cross-quarter holy-day, the power point between Winter Solstice and Spring Equinox.

“This is the night in the northern hemisphere when the Goddess (Bridgid for those of us with Irish ancestry) passes and touches us with her healing vibes. It’s a good night to hang a silk scarf out the window (to catch those vibes) and to open yourself to ritual and dreaming. Candlemas is known for the “quickening” energy that awakens our desire for spring. The light is getting stronger, and we can imagine that the warmth of the sun will grace us once again.” (Vicki Noble).

When I read this, I thought, “How fitting that A. was born on this ‘power point’ between Winter and Spring Equinox!” No matter what the groundhog sees today, the days are getting longer and light is getting stronger. Spring will be birthed. Light is coming.

That is A. He is light…fire and passion. He embodies that bold energy of desire…the tenacious energy of spring bursting forth. He doesn’t hide his light – when he walks onto the playground, into a friend’s house, or into a group, he walks in with this vibe of “hey, we’re all welcome here! Come join in!”

A.’s presence in my life has shed light on places within me that I didn’t even know were hidden, unresolved, in darkness. This has been a struggle – I’d rather not see some of these places! But light is more tenacious than dark. One little ray of light dispels a room full of darkness. And A.’s tenacity, light, fire, passion, and power are awakening within me my own boldness and passion.

Then I went on to read…

“It’s been more than 45 years since Pluto and Uranus made an exact aspect with each other, and it’s happening again this year as they come into an exact square or 90 degree angle with each other. That means the revolution of the 1960s is emerging in the world again, in a new way, creating a further development of the opening and awakening that took place when they made their conjunction between 1964 and 1968. So, heads up. Things are going to change.”

After reading this, my husband thought it was quite “coincidental” that the gospel reading for this coming Sunday (in the Catholic world) is about the well-known passage of how we are the light of the world. It calls us to set our light on a lamp stand for the world to see rather than hiding it under a bushel basket.

I am no astrologer (maybe someday?!!!), but I have heard that our young children of today will be “changing things up.” They will be the leaders of such revolutions as (I hope) a greener earth, a kinder humanity, a more peaceful world.

Maybe our role as parents to these young ones is about nurturing their light. Maybe I/we/all of us can stress less about high S.A.T. scores and focus more on talking to our children, engaging in activities with our children, and regarding them in ways that their light radiates over their whole bodies – from the brightness of their eyes to the warmth of their hugs. Maybe our job is about creating the space for them to embrace their light and have the boldness to share it with the world…for the healing, happiness, and health of our world.