Deep thoughts

Ok, maybe not deep or anything profound, but thoughts in any case. I read a blog today that gave me something to think about. I've always thought that everything happens for a reason and at the time it's supposed to for whatever purpose it might serve. In a journal I read the following:

" Aaron always told me that we come across many teachers in our lives. Some are there to teach us of the good, and some to teach us of the bad. And that every person we meet has some lesson to teach us, whether big or small; whether noticeable or not."

I have to agree with that in a lot of ways. So now I’m thinking about the teachers in my life and what they have taught me. Our parents are probably the teachers that should have taught us the most in our lifetime. But I didn’t have a close relationship with mine. Yes, I’ve learned from them, but I think I’m a bit of a complex creature because of them too. (or maybe I just like being complex)

One of the bad things I think I learned from my parents is to not open up. We were not a touchy-feely, tell each other “I love you” kind of family. But in some ways I am that kind of person, but I’m definitely not that way with my family. Sometimes I thought maybe I was a bit schizophrenic because the way I would act with my friends at school was completely different than the way I was at home. Even socially as an adult, I’m still that way. I don’t have a problem saying the “L” word to the ones I love as long as they’re not my family. It just feels too weird to say it to people you have lived with all your life and have never said that word before. But when you get to try it on with someone completely new, it seems to come naturally.
Marty and I haven’t said the “L” word to each other yet. Yes we’re kind of skirting around it because of the distance thing. And the relationship is still in it’s new stages. And saying it online or over the phone for the first time just takes away all the romance out of it.
This word shouldn’t be taken too lightly and it should truly come from the heart. I remember when I said it to my ex for the first time. He had said it before I did and I told him I wasn’t ready and he understood and said that he couldn’t help it. But I did say it a few weeks later in bed one night. And I did love him. Or at least what I thought was love at the time. Later I would come to question it and it’s still a topic that is very hard to comprehend. What is love? How do you know it’s real? Can it be defined at all?
I think it comes down to the fact that there are so many kinds of love out there and only one word that is used for all of them.

There’s the generic “like” that “love” is often substituted for. “I love this dress.” Meaning you have an intense like or fondness of it, but saying “love” makes it a bolder statement.
Then you have the caring, friendly love. The kind of love you have for a friend because you have a bond. Whether you say it to them or not, you know when it’s there. I generally take my cues from their own “love philosophy” as to whether I tell them it or not. My friend Candi and I can say “I love you” to each other with no problem. But it’s not something that Kirsten and I would do and sometimes even hugging is awkward. But I think the love is understood.
Then there’s the big capital letter “L” kind of Love. The love you feel for your child because you would do anything for them. Sometimes it’s the kind of love in your family. And it’s the kind of love you should have with your spouse or significant other. When you can’t imagine life without them in it and you’re overwhelmed by your passion for them. I think this kind of love comes in stages and deepens over time and as you go through things together.
When I had Josh, I didn’t fall in love with him right away. I was overwhelmed with the whole process of giving birth and then being a single mom. But the love grew and now I’d give my life for him. I hope that someday I find that kind of love in a partner. I hope that it’s someone I grow old with and still hold hands with despite arthritis and other ailments when we’re in our nineties.
So despite the lesson that my parents taught to hold it all in and not show emotion, I’m learning that it’s o.k. to love and even tell someone that. It’s o.k. to be vulnerable and take a chance.
I’ll continue to ponder the lessons I’ve learned from the people that have wandered in and out of my life. Hopefully for the ones that have tried to teach me some good, it’s sinking in a bit. And those that have taught the hard knocks of life, hopefully I’ve learned from that too.
And don’t get me wrong, my parents were good people and taught me some great things, but in thinking about some of the problems I’ve had relationship-wise, I’m wondering if their lesson has interfered. At least I think I’m recognizing it and hopefully can overcome it. I probably will never wear my heart on my sleeve, but perhaps I can at least open it up a little more.