So remember Pacman? The landmark arcade video game with the little yellow Pacman which gobbled up little dots, and kept bumping into the walls of the maze, trying to avoid its enemies (Inky, Pinky, Blinky, & Clyde) and had to reach the end of the maze without getting killed by them.
I was talking to a friend about dating the other day, and I realized that so many people I know are playing endless rounds of something that I can only describe as "Relationship Pacman." So just like the little yellow guy, they are going around in this maze of life, collecting points (degrees, friends, making memories, jobs etc.) and they keep bumping (read: dating or meeting) into dead ends (read: the wrong people), and then turn around in another direction, and keep going till they bump into the next dead end, and then on and on and on... till the game is over.
And while, the little yellow guy is perfectly okay after bumping into the dead ends, and makes it out without any bumps and bruises, most of us don't. In the process of meeting, dating or being in relationships with all the wrong people, we acquire a host of blisters, bumps, bruises and burns... most of which aren't visible, but which leave impressions on the emotional and psychological canvass of who we are. Some of these might just be superficial scratches, but some of the cuts can run very deep, and the bruises can take a very long time to heal. And even if they do, they leave behind a scar - as a permanent reminder of that person... and of what took place in that encounter.
And sure, we can choose to subscribe to one of the dozens of cliches available - "we learn from every relationship (read: mistake)," and "everyone comes into our lives for a reason," or "life is about learning from your experiences," but somehow, none of them are the miracle neosporin that can soothe the sting, the burn, or the pain that you are left with after running into a dead end.
You can't really ever completely paint over, cover up or erase the marks. They become a part of the self-portrait you paint over a lifetime ... often distorting, clouding over, or cutting across the beautiful strokes of color added by the love, support, encouragement, friendship, faith, hope and courage we find en route in life. Sometimes the cuts are so deep that they tear right through the canvas ... especially those inflicted by heartbreak or betrayal. Even more importantly, every person you enter into a relationship with, leaves behind a part of themselves with you, and takes a piece of you with them. So maybe that's why it's kind of important to be picky about who gets to leave the proverbial "I was here" on your canvas, and gets to walk away with a piece of you...
So sometimes I wonder if that's why I refused to play "Relationship Pacman," all those years. Because I didn't want some careless person to take a brush or a blade, and wreak havoc on the picture I had been working on painstakingly for so many, many years. I didn't want the ugly black streak, or the unsightly bump... I didn't want to have to glue together rips in my canvas or cover up the scratches. But mostly, I didn't want to feel the impact of crashing into a dead end, mostly because I feared that it would send me hurtling off into another direction... another wrong direction... further and further away from the actual path that I needed to be on.
See, for most of my life, I have believed that as long as I keep up my end of the bargain (doing well academically and otherwise, treating my body and soul with respect, caring for and appreciating the people I was blessed to have in my life, finding beauty in the world I live in, and doing "good" things in general) the universe will reciprocate, and I will find the person I can share all of this with. The person who would bring out the very best in me, and who I'd inspire to be the best person they could be. Two imperfectly perfect people, who are perfect when they come together...
And yes, I am a hopeless romantic (or rather, I am trying to stay one). But is it really that unlikely that there might be an iota of truth in this? That if we were to focus our energies on being the very best people we can be, we gradually become the "ideal" ... and get closer and closer to finding our ideal counterpart. Think about it: if our ideal man/woman is smart, funny, charming, polite, loving, giving, caring, honest, loyal, family-oriented, optimistic, sexy, driven, talented, ambitious, dedicated, committed, passionate etc etc. and we secretly believe that we aren't those things, or haven't worked enough on ourselves to come close to meeting our own ideals, then how can we expect someone else to believe that we are all that. Or as I remember reading in some magazine: "If you wouldn't want to date yourself, then how can you expect someone else to want to date you?"
So maybe dating as many people as possible isn't the answer. Maybe hitting bars for endless happy hours, or doing multiple rounds of speed dating, or going on a dizzying number of blind dates is not the answer. Maybe the answer lies within us, and with us. Be the person you would want to date.
So why bother collecting bruises in the first place? Do we really need to learn some lessons? Or are some things just obvious (for instance, once a liar, always a liar etc.) and we can spot the red flags, heed the warning signs, and turn before we crash?
I don't know. I don't have all the answers. I think I'm still learning the questions ...
It makes me sad sometimes to think of all the people in the world, going about in their mazes, bumping into dead ends, trying and trying to find their person. It makes me sad that they have to fight loneliness, and wrestle with doubt, and worry if they'll ever even find this person, or if this person even exists. That so many people will compromise or settle, because of fearing being alone. Coming home to an empty apartment, sitting down to dinner for one, having no one to curl up next to on the couch... or clink your wine glass with can be hard. Yes, the silence of solitude can be scary...
But let me tell you this - there is nothing lonelier, than being with someone and feeling like you're alone anyway...
It takes incredible courage to expose your soft underbelly to someone else, to trust them with your vulnerabilities, your greatest fears, your deepest, darkest secrets ... and hope that they won't let you fall. Have that courage - but wait for the right person. I know that they don't come with neon signs or labels. Learn to love the silence - so you can be still with yourself. And believe - that they are out there ... and you WILL find them.
XOXO
I was talking to a friend about dating the other day, and I realized that so many people I know are playing endless rounds of something that I can only describe as "Relationship Pacman." So just like the little yellow guy, they are going around in this maze of life, collecting points (degrees, friends, making memories, jobs etc.) and they keep bumping (read: dating or meeting) into dead ends (read: the wrong people), and then turn around in another direction, and keep going till they bump into the next dead end, and then on and on and on... till the game is over.
And while, the little yellow guy is perfectly okay after bumping into the dead ends, and makes it out without any bumps and bruises, most of us don't. In the process of meeting, dating or being in relationships with all the wrong people, we acquire a host of blisters, bumps, bruises and burns... most of which aren't visible, but which leave impressions on the emotional and psychological canvass of who we are. Some of these might just be superficial scratches, but some of the cuts can run very deep, and the bruises can take a very long time to heal. And even if they do, they leave behind a scar - as a permanent reminder of that person... and of what took place in that encounter.
And sure, we can choose to subscribe to one of the dozens of cliches available - "we learn from every relationship (read: mistake)," and "everyone comes into our lives for a reason," or "life is about learning from your experiences," but somehow, none of them are the miracle neosporin that can soothe the sting, the burn, or the pain that you are left with after running into a dead end.
You can't really ever completely paint over, cover up or erase the marks. They become a part of the self-portrait you paint over a lifetime ... often distorting, clouding over, or cutting across the beautiful strokes of color added by the love, support, encouragement, friendship, faith, hope and courage we find en route in life. Sometimes the cuts are so deep that they tear right through the canvas ... especially those inflicted by heartbreak or betrayal. Even more importantly, every person you enter into a relationship with, leaves behind a part of themselves with you, and takes a piece of you with them. So maybe that's why it's kind of important to be picky about who gets to leave the proverbial "I was here" on your canvas, and gets to walk away with a piece of you...
So sometimes I wonder if that's why I refused to play "Relationship Pacman," all those years. Because I didn't want some careless person to take a brush or a blade, and wreak havoc on the picture I had been working on painstakingly for so many, many years. I didn't want the ugly black streak, or the unsightly bump... I didn't want to have to glue together rips in my canvas or cover up the scratches. But mostly, I didn't want to feel the impact of crashing into a dead end, mostly because I feared that it would send me hurtling off into another direction... another wrong direction... further and further away from the actual path that I needed to be on.
See, for most of my life, I have believed that as long as I keep up my end of the bargain (doing well academically and otherwise, treating my body and soul with respect, caring for and appreciating the people I was blessed to have in my life, finding beauty in the world I live in, and doing "good" things in general) the universe will reciprocate, and I will find the person I can share all of this with. The person who would bring out the very best in me, and who I'd inspire to be the best person they could be. Two imperfectly perfect people, who are perfect when they come together...
And yes, I am a hopeless romantic (or rather, I am trying to stay one). But is it really that unlikely that there might be an iota of truth in this? That if we were to focus our energies on being the very best people we can be, we gradually become the "ideal" ... and get closer and closer to finding our ideal counterpart. Think about it: if our ideal man/woman is smart, funny, charming, polite, loving, giving, caring, honest, loyal, family-oriented, optimistic, sexy, driven, talented, ambitious, dedicated, committed, passionate etc etc. and we secretly believe that we aren't those things, or haven't worked enough on ourselves to come close to meeting our own ideals, then how can we expect someone else to believe that we are all that. Or as I remember reading in some magazine: "If you wouldn't want to date yourself, then how can you expect someone else to want to date you?"
So maybe dating as many people as possible isn't the answer. Maybe hitting bars for endless happy hours, or doing multiple rounds of speed dating, or going on a dizzying number of blind dates is not the answer. Maybe the answer lies within us, and with us. Be the person you would want to date.
So why bother collecting bruises in the first place? Do we really need to learn some lessons? Or are some things just obvious (for instance, once a liar, always a liar etc.) and we can spot the red flags, heed the warning signs, and turn before we crash?
I don't know. I don't have all the answers. I think I'm still learning the questions ...
It makes me sad sometimes to think of all the people in the world, going about in their mazes, bumping into dead ends, trying and trying to find their person. It makes me sad that they have to fight loneliness, and wrestle with doubt, and worry if they'll ever even find this person, or if this person even exists. That so many people will compromise or settle, because of fearing being alone. Coming home to an empty apartment, sitting down to dinner for one, having no one to curl up next to on the couch... or clink your wine glass with can be hard. Yes, the silence of solitude can be scary...
But let me tell you this - there is nothing lonelier, than being with someone and feeling like you're alone anyway...
It takes incredible courage to expose your soft underbelly to someone else, to trust them with your vulnerabilities, your greatest fears, your deepest, darkest secrets ... and hope that they won't let you fall. Have that courage - but wait for the right person. I know that they don't come with neon signs or labels. Learn to love the silence - so you can be still with yourself. And believe - that they are out there ... and you WILL find them.
“A soulmate is someone who has locks that fit our keys, and keys to fit our locks.
When we feel safe enough to open the locks, our truest selves step out and we can be completely and honestly who we are; we can be loved for who we are and not for who we’re pretending to be.
Each unveils the best part of the other. No matter what else goes wrong around us, with that one person we’re safe in our own paradise.
Our soulmate is someone who shares our deepest longings, our sense of direction. When we’re two balloons, and together our direction is up, chances are we’ve found the right person.
Our soulmate is the one who makes life come to life.”
- Richard Bach
XOXO
H
