“Where the myth fails, human love begins. Then we love a human being, not our dream, but a human being with flaws.” Anaïs Nin
Somewhere between the myth and reality, we shape our ideals of what we want out of life and love, family, friends, lover. Career. And then those images collide with the grit of daily life, the smells and feltness, the bits and pieces of all we can’t predict, flaws, quirks, unforeseen strengths and mystery. And predictability, non-mystery weaves a plain strand or two of sometimes boredom into a tapestry more rich than anything we could have idealized. The task of sinking roots deeply into a love affair with the real, with the presence of dirt and sweat, clutter and challenge shapes a commitment to being in life, being in love with what is and with what we can shape of ourselves in love without compromising the most vital layers of our uniqueness.
I’ve been happily drowning in the real, sometimes treading water as the holidays and work, family and wellness focus swirl a bit of chaos all around me – yet somehow forming a tangible shape and pattern, evidence of an intended life. The most precious, stellar, memorable points of time along the path etch their significance through the preparations, in the chores and the whispers, the spontaneous and relentless hugs, the laughter, the raised voices and moments of conflict, frustration and struggle. These are the treasures: the real, the dance with delight and disappointment. Without the adventure of flaws, of living beyond our dreams, outside the mythical gates and airy fairy hopes, without these we become flat, laid out on some whiteboard, waiting for “fulfillment.”
But we cherish our myths and dreams. They shape for us a cauldron, brewing elixirs of possibility, made especially from that seminal strain of individuality and mixed with the valid distinctions of what we all long for, and especially what our souls require. Somewhere between the myth and reality, in the lands of making-real, we shape our appetites to love each other because of, in spite of and in full light of our sometimes frail humanity. And we carve out our capacity for joy, for gratitude and for love-sense by how artfully we accept what is and what is not.
Here’s to the beauty of this life…