A couple of days ago, I stumbled upon a rather surprising realization about myself. Lately, I have gotten so comfortable in the role of wife and career woman that I have become somewhat
What I mean is, I haven't made any time lately for my usual interests. Things like painting, poetry, and music. So one of my resolutions for the New Year is to not get so caught up in every day life that I forget the things that make me unique. I often admire those that are incredibly intelligent. We played a game of scrabble the other night with a couple of friends and I was blown away by the vocabulary of these two. In fact, I was a little embarrassed when I compared my final score to theirs. And on the way home I thought about what makes them such an amazing couple. The things that they have in common. The fact that they are both so intelligent and so well-read. But then it got me thinking about some of the reasons why Adam and I fell in love.
We both love to paint.
As a matter of fact, when we first started dating we decided that one night we would go get some canvases and supplies and paint each other a picture. We put on some music and sat where we could not see each others ideas or finished product. And we painted what we felt.
I remember being so surprised at the time.
Almost like God was having such fun with us, seeing our faces, watching our shock, all the time... laughing at us. But it doesn't surprise me anymore.
We painted sunsets.
Both of us.
I also thought that night about one of my favorite poets. John Keats. A hopeless romantic that wrote the most beautiful letters to his muse, Fanny Brawne when they were apart. I often read his words and sigh thinking of how he must have loved her. I think about the passion behind his words. And then I remember the letters that Adam used to write me when he lived in Houston and I lived in Athens. Here is a paragraph from one of his letters:
"I've known you were the only woman I could ever love. The only eyes I wanted looking back into mine, and the only love I have ever wanted to experience..you've been the pulse of my heart for the last 2 years. I've been afraid to say that to you, because maybe i didn't know you, only the impression I had from first hearing about you from Autumn,and I hadn't really met you, you know? So i didn't want to jump to any conclusions, and I definitely didn't want to be 'one of those guys'.. ..I wanted our love to be real, and I had to wait to see...and I didn't think that you would ever love me, even if you really did know me. I just doubted myself, and thought that I was supposed to be alone because I hadn't ever found 'her',that maybe you didn't exist. She never took on a face until I knew you..."
And THAT is so much better than any 19th century poet or any romance movie on Tv.
That is my real life love story.
So you see, the last thing I ever want to do is get into a routine and forget our interests and the things that brought us together. Some of the things that make us who we are.
That make me who I am.
The intention of this post was originally to encourage you to seek out your creative sides and not to let the busyness of life push those things out. To "find out who you are and do it on purpose." But like any other time I write, I have tapped into a deeper emotion in me. And reminded myself of the inspiration that art and music have had on my life. And my marriage.And that our love ...
is anything but ordinary.