Relative Something

*this* John W. Hays' take on things and experiences

Posts Tagged ‘long term relationship

Detecting Numinosity

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Cyndie and John

The initial attraction was mutual and undeniable. In our early years of exploring a relationship as potential significant others, there were plenty of twists and turns. Cyndie was a year older than me and in the high school class ahead of mine. In many ways, we were opposites. She was more of a go-getter. I was more inclined to wait for things or opportunities to show up in my life.

I bailed on our relationship several times, thinking it was unlikely to survive the ravages of time. However, the magnetic pull between us was relentless. She was all I ever wanted, so it was easy for me to give it another go.

Cyndie pursued multiple university degrees; I sought the least expensive and shortest path to a trade that offered stable employment. We shared an equal passion for similar music, certain foods, and an empathy for the plights of others. I took pride in fulfilling the [at the time] non-traditional role of supporting her career as she repeatedly climbed higher and higher in educational administration positions, being the only woman among numerous old-boy networks.

Somehow, together we managed to raise two intelligent, well-adjusted children while simultaneously unraveling and resolving our own personal issues that originated unconsciously in each of our formative years and grew with us into our adult minds and relationship dysfunctions.

She let me go off on bicycling adventures on my own; I enjoyed being allowed to stay home when she wanted to travel to distant shores. No one seems able to fathom how or why I would pass up a trip to Italy. I consider having gotten permission to stay home one of my great accomplishments. (No offense intended, Italy.) Cyndie says it was one of her favorite trips.

I experience greater pleasure from saving money than spending it. Cyndie is uncomfortable with tight constraints on our expenditures.

We have benefited immeasurably from more than a year of work with a couple’s therapist.

Cyndie was always more of an optimist, while I was a classically trained pessimist. We have rubbed off on each other enough at this point that I occasionally am able to note the switch for her.

When Cyndie came home from a training session with horses and reported receiving physical sensations and eventually messages in her mind transmitted by the animals, I was dumbfounded. I had no reason to doubt her experience –even though she was unsure about what was happening herself– but it took some time to reconcile the unbelievable aspect with which we were suddenly presented.

We’ve been through a lot together. Today, we share an equally strong understanding of the presence of a divine loving energy around us in every direction and in all creatures, plants, and materials in the universe. We understand telepathy is a reality because we have experienced it.

Looking back from where we are today, I better understand that magnetic attraction that was relentlessly drawing us toward our eventual long-term relationship. Nothing short of numinous.

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Birthday Today

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I don’t have enough candles for the cake I wish I’d already bought to mark the occasion of my partner in life’s crimes today but the years are just a number. Cyndie was born on this day some sixty-mumble years ago and that day is the most important day of my entire life, which didn’t even start until a year later.

We met as teenagers and somehow survived the myriad differences between us that never permanently broke the mystical attraction that drew us toward each other like the strongest rare-earth magnet in the known universe.

Whenever I pause to contemplate how special Cyndie is and how lucky I am that she has stuck with me through thick and thin, I feel a special appreciation for the therapist who saved us at a critical time in our marriage.

Every good thing in my life has come to me due to my relationship with Cynthia Ann (Friswold) Hays.

It makes the date of her birthday, June 4th, a day worthy of emphatic celebration! This year, however, we will be a bit subdued in our quarantine situation at home alone with Asher.

Cyndie has been making art and I have been serenading her with a shuffled mix from my music library while remarkable amounts of rain from thundering cloudbursts interspersed with bright sunshine are making life outdoors rather chaotic.

We will look back someday and reminisce about the year her birthday was so wet we needed paddle boards to navigate our trails.

I am so, so lucky that I get to be on this adventure with this marvelous person.

Happy Birthday, my love!

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Written by johnwhays

June 4, 2024 at 6:00 am

Color Splashes

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Shorter hours of daylight are becoming more noticeable but the colors of summer flowers are as vibrant as ever around the house at the lake. Not that the length of a blossom isn’t limited. I took a picture of one bright flower when I arrived last Thursday and then noticed how quickly the look of the whole planting had changed by last night.

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There were plenty of colors still glowing from the plantings Cyndie and Marie and helpers installed around our landscape in the spring.

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After a substantial dousing of rain a couple of days ago, we were dismayed to see how much of the beach sand had washed away into the lake. It happens all the time but is no less disturbing to see the large rocks and hard soil exposed where it was previously soft sand. Even though the DNR is against adding new sand to the shoreline, that seems to be a fix that is called for in these instances.

There is a rake being stored among other gear on our beach by the caretakers that I’ve become very fond of using. It occurred to me that I could try dragging prime-quality sand from the water’s edge using this rake to cover the exposed surface after heavy rain.

It worked better than I imagined it might. In fact, after subsequent showers the last two days, the improvements I achieved were still holding fast. I believe I have discovered a new activity to entertain me while hanging out on the beach that feels so much more productive than sand castles, sculptures, pyramids, holes, or pattern drawings that I am naturally inclined to create.

Too bad I will be departing for home this morning and exchanging lake escapades for dog duty, horse care, and lawn management. Cyndie stays up for a few more days to help Marie entertain guests, giving me a chance to pretend I live alone –a welcome feature every so often for couples who’ve been together for over 4 decades.

You know, sleeping diagonally on the bed, leaving my stuff out wherever I please, skipping a meal if I feel like it, or watching guilty pleasures on tv.

One downfall, however, I won’t have my hero around to soothe my nerves in the case of any unwelcome close encounters with our resident snakes. It’s as if they’re slithering in herds these days. Anna, our animal sitter over the weekend, sent us a picture of a disgustingly large shed snake skin that showed up on the driveway. [shudder]

I much prefer our splashes of color to come from flowers instead of wriggling reptiles.

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Written by johnwhays

August 14, 2023 at 6:00 am

Visible Differences

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Yesterday, Cyndie sent me a photo of the colorful energy in Puerto Rico where she and Elysa are celebrating Carlos reaching a birthday numbered somewhere between 65 and 85 years (I wouldn’t dare reveal that it might be ten years away from both of those numbers).

I responded to her text with a photo of my own.

Compare and contrast our respective scenery and company.

I’ll say this much, I’ve got the bluer sky. 🙂

In addition to the smiling faces of Barry and Carlos captured above, they are joined by their mom, Marie, and brother, Steve.

Looks like they are having a pretty good time, eh?

The visible differences between our worlds right now are a function of the invisible contrasts in our personalities. I am thrilled that Cyndie was able to take this trip to a faraway place to be with family. I am also thrilled that I didn’t have to figure out what to pack or deal with air travel and ground transportation. I am thrilled to be home alone for a week with all the comfort and conveniences that go along with that.

I have survived the hassles of traveling to incredible adventures during my life but in general, my preference leans very heavily toward being in my home spaces as much as possible. I am very grateful and incredibly lucky for the number of times Cyndie has been willing to fulfill her wanderlust without me.

Be it ever so [or not so] humble…

My pathway to the barn on Wednesday morning was a slippery block of leaf-pocked ice where I had compacted the snow with repeated trips back and forth throughout the snow season.

That won’t last very many more days. Then it becomes a path of slippery leaves over soft mud until the frost completely leaves the ground and things begin to dry out. That’s when the mind of this home-body begins to think about pumping fresh air into his bicycle tires and going out for a roll on local roadways.

There is no waiting in line at the TSA to go on a bike ride.

Here’s hoping the clouds don’t linger long over Puerto Rico!

¡Feliz Cumpleaños, Carlos!

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Her Birthday

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Send love to Cyndie for her birthday today! She is out of town at the moment, so I am celebrating with pictures of us together while she is away. I actually posted these two years ago for her birthday and so this is kind of a not-so-random “wayback” post. I believe they all work just fine a second time around…

 

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Happy Birthday, Cyndie!

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Written by johnwhays

June 4, 2022 at 7:00 am

Opposing Forces

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What triggered the thought in my head to ask, I do not know. My mild compulsion to seek order and repetition in my daily activities leads me to reset some things while often completely ignoring others. Really, the majority of my efforts for order are preemptive, enacted with the intent of easing future tasks.

One example of this is rinsing pans, dishes, and utensils instantly after use to avoid foods drying to the surface and becoming more difficult to clean later. Another version is clearing snow to a distance beyond the edges of the driveway or walkways to make it easier to clear future accumulations.

However, not all my impulses are entirely practical. This one is probably more aesthetic.

Recently, I noticed that I have repeatedly been adjusting the entryway rug inside our front door to pull it off the sill. I figured normal traffic or possibly an exuberant dog was causing the rug to slide up against the door, so I kept moving it back.

Then, for an unknown reason, I experienced a vivid moment of intuition that led me to ask Cyndie if she moves the front rug up against the door sill.

“Yes,” she said. “I do.”

Aha! We have been unknowingly operating at cross-purposes, doing battle back and forth with opposing intentions.

She was thinking about catching debris from dirty boots on the rug, so she surmised there should be no space between the rug and sill. I said we could just step onto the rug when we come inside.

Something in me senses the rug should be spaced away to avoid possible interference with opening the door.

Cyndie and I are very different in many ways, so it shouldn’t be all that surprising that we were working against each other in this regard, but it is always humorous to discover little details like this when we have been living together for over 40 years.

Our opposing forces may be part of our mutual attraction and balance the many ways we are alike. There is something to the adage that “opposites attract.” It’s rather magnetic, isn’t it?

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Her Day

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My trusty sidekick for 40-some years of my life is having a birthday today! Send love to Cyndie! She’s a horse-whisperer without a horse.

At least we still have each other.

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Happy Birthday, Cyndie!

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Written by johnwhays

June 4, 2020 at 6:00 am

A Discovery

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Portrait of the author after hand-shoveling around the barn doors this morning.

We received a walloping amount of snow overnight (between 10-11 inches) and strong winds are creating epic drifts. It will be a monumental day of digging out. Luckily, I wrote most of today’s post yesterday afternoon. I’ll give a more complete report on the details of our winter storm recovery tomorrow…

Meanwhile:

After waking up too early yesterday, resorted to random searching Google while awaiting the return of sleepiness. I simply typed the word, “love,” and happened upon an article from 2014 about living happily ever after in a long-term relationship.

In lieu of the Wikipedia definition of love, I clicked on the headline, “The Secret to Love is Just Kindness.”

That title included two things that I value the most: love and kindness, together with the enticing word, ‘secret.’ How could I resist?

Eventually, I drifted back into a dream-filled sleep, but not until after I had gained great insight, and felt totally convicted, about moments of my behavior. After breakfast, I read the article to Cyndie. She had the same reaction as me.

We have been married for 37-years, and somewhere in the middle of that span of time, dedicated a few years to marriage-saving couples therapy. Basically, our sessions went like this: we entered the hour looking to have our therapist “fix” the other partner, and left each time having learned more about ourselves than we sometimes wanted to know.

The years since have been better than I ever dreamed possible between us. How could this ever be improved upon?

Now I know. Despite all the work I have done toward seeking optimal health, specifically, not taking on any of the several deplorable traits of my father, I am very clearly a product of my parents. (Luckily, I did inherit plenty of Dad’s finer qualities!) In the midst of any project I undertake, I will find myself doing the “air-whistle” my mother often “phoo-whewed.” I am also all too adept at seamlessly replicating Ralph’s ability to be a sourpuss.

Cyndie is sweet enough to tolerate the random –and I’m hoping, mostly subtle– air-whistling (song-breathing?) habit, but she never deserved the boorish behaviors she has endured in our marriage.

In my depressive years (multiple dubious skills of which I no doubt picked up from my father), I could totally relate to the line in John Prine’s song, “Angel from Montgomery:”

How the hell can a person go to work in the morning
And come home in the evening and have nothing to say.

I knew exactly how that is done. Ralph did that to my mother so many times it became normal and accepted. It was no wonder that I could recognize when he’d imbibed to inebriation. He was suddenly chatty as could be with Mom.

From the article in The Atlantic, I now understand how divisive it is when Cyndie’s bids for connection are met with my lack of engagement. The kind thing to do when someone seeks connection, is to turn toward them, not away. For some reason, I have an uncanny skill of treating the one person closest to me at home, with a cold shoulder, something I would hard-pressed do to a person in public.

“There’s a bright red cardinal out the window!” Cyndie might report.

If not silence, I might offer an uninterested, “Okay.”

She hadn’t asked a question, so did it require an answer?

The healthy thing to do for a relationship –one that I want to thrive for a lifetime, not just survive– is to meet all of her bids for connection with kind attention, even when I don’t necessarily feel like it.

Even if it is limited to telling her that I just don’t feel like being kind right now, that would be a connection.

Actively being kind to our partner’s bids for connection, especially the trivial (ultimately, not-so-trivial) ones, seems the healthy way to nurture a thriving life-long relationship.

That isn’t a mind-blowing insight, but it was an eye-opening self-discovery for me that resulted in a quest for greater love.

Onward, on my quest toward optimal health…

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