sborton84’s BodyBlog

"If you can find a path with no obstacles, it probably doesn’t lead anywhere" Frank A Clark

"I hold this to be the highest task for a bond between two people: that each protects the solitude of the other." Rainer Maria Rilke

"Once the realization is accepted that even between the closest human beings infinite distances continue, a wonderful living side by side can grow, if they succeed in loving the distance between them which makes it possible for each to see the other whole against the sky." Rainer Maria Rilke
My husband and I had an amazing day together yesterday. It is so odd…when you have the one you love and see them every day…sometimes that young, excited, always accepting, inquisitive love is lost in the hustle and bustle of life and you forget how ungodly LUCKY you are to have that person. And, when you’re away, you kick yourself for not looking at that person deeper, without judgement or predisposition.

When you grow up with someone you love, it is sometimes hard to see clearly. You often feel like you’re looking right back at yourself. The other becomes so familiar. Sometimes this connectivity is not so beneficial. When your ideas, thinking patterns, wants, dislikes, and etc. become a little too similar…it is probably time to seek some solitude. You want to spend every day with this person, yet you begin to lose yourself. The "you" that was there when you first met begins to fade. Everything becomes familiar, monotonous, expected. But then, something forces you apart. For Ben and I, that is definately school and work. We’re pretty young (23 & 24), married, and have about 1 day a week where we actually get to spend some quality time together. For being such a young couple, we have lived far distances apart, we’ve seen eachother break, and we’ve seen eachother conquer. Ben was there when I was in and out of hospitals due to an eating disorder. He saw me at my absolute worst - depressed, numb, and committing slow suicide. He held me when I hit the floor (literally). I felt my spirit leave. But I could NOT go. As much as my body wanted to let go…I realized that maybe GOD does have a purpose for me. I prayed for life as time slipped, and God returned life to me. He watched that. We were 16 & 17.

I decided I needed some independence. I took off for college as far as I possibly could go - 600 miles away. (I guess that’s not that far, but for a girl from a small northern Michigan town - it is!) I learned the pain of solitude. I give so much credit to those who live thousands of miles away, across continents, across the sea from those that they love. I can’t even imagine it. There is one thing for certain, every new day is a day closer to the ones back home. There is hope in that a glorious day is coming, very soon, to return home. Another thing is for certain. When you’re alone, you start to think - A LOT. Your brain races with so many thoughts, emotions, pictures that you feel like you’re being taken through a time machine with really bad wiring. At a young age, I learned a lot about distance. What it feels like to truly have an aching heart. But I also learned a LOT about myself and what I wanted in life. The solitude gave me some freedom to dream. Being alone allowed me to sit, contemplatively, in the dark and come to most amazing realizations. That I had been extremely selfish (as a teenager??? Nawwww). That my mother LOVED me and that was why she was so over-protective. That Ben was the one for me. I called him one night in tears because I felt so alone. He traveled those 600 miles after a late night shift just to hold me, just to get up 6 hours later and travel those same 600 miles for a day shift. That my sister wasn’t a pest and was a little smarter than what I mader her out to be! That little brother was much more than annoying, he was (and is ) intelligent, extremely observant, and loving of all things that are good. That I should have appreciated my brother Paul more, as I remembered all that he had taught me. That I was loved and that I was much more than a face in a crowd.

I read an article awhile back about Sarah McLachlan and what motivated her before writing her award winning album "Surfacing." She said that Maria Rainier Rilke was a huge influence on her work. She suggested reading "Letters to a Young Poet," for anyone interested in becoming a writer, songwriter, or musician. These letters, if you can bare through the older style of writing, absolutely changed my way of thinking.

http://www.sfgoth.com/~immanis/rilke/letter1.html (check them out!)

If you go to my blog site, you’ll find my favorite quote of all time.

"Everything is gestation and then birthing. To let each impression and each embryo of a feeling come to completion, entirely in itself, in the dark, in the unsayable, the unconscious, beyond the reach of one’s own understanding, and with deep humility and patience to wait for the hour when a new clarity is born: this alone is what it means to live as an artist: in understanding as in creating." R.M. Rilke

Something forms within ourselves when we are placed in or we actually choose moments of solitude. There is a purpose for solitude. There is a purpose for time together. Without this balance, of finding ourselves and then binding together with the one we love, we either become lost or so entrenched in the other that we forget our reason for being alive.

There is something so beautiful inside each one of you. It does not take anyone else to create it. YOU create beauty. YOU create strength. YOU create your legacy, your story that will live on. These remnants of our solitude lend to the ones we love and make our relationships stronger, interesting, and forever flowing.

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I wrote this today because I have been thinking more and more about my husband going to medical school. I’ve been worrying about being alone - but I have to remember - that any loneliness that I feel will be an opportunity to grow in solitude. He is following his purpose, I must follow mine, and together we’ll continue to support and love eachother. When we are far apart, I’ll just have to remember the Eskimo proverb,

"Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy."

This entry was posted on Sunday, June 10th, 2007 at 8:58 am and is filed under Thoughts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.