Tuesday, January 22, 2013

I Do...

I Do…
Tuesday, January 22
Studio City, CA

“I do…  I do not…
I do… I do not…”
I watch my little girl across the room. I am hypnotized by the repetition of her hands gently pulling the remaining pedals from a flower she picked from our garden. 
She pulls the last two pedals.
“I do!”

“You do what?” I ask.
“I do want to take a shower.”  
I think about those words… “I DO.”

“You do one Mommy.” She hands me a flower… I comply.
I begin pulling the pedals… 
“I do… I do not… 
I DO! I don’t… I do…” I rip off the remaining pedals.
Those 2 words  “I DO” say so much.

My husband and I just celebrated our 9-year wedding anniversary. We have been together for 10.
Not surprisingly, neither of us are the same person with the same needs, when we exchanged those words “I DO.”
We are each 10 years older, wiser and different.
No one said it was going to be easy, but in saying “I Do”, I think there should be a qualifier… in a few years “I might not!”
Continuing the commitment to “I DO” requires A LOT of work… growing together… learning to speak the same language… or at least understanding one another’s.
Qualifier 2
If kids are born into this partnership… all bets off.  All the “I DO’s” will do is give false expectations, because he said “I DO” and sometimes he doesn’t.
“In sickness and in health…” it annoys me when he’s sick. 
“Til death do us part.”  I have plotted his murder and he as plotted mine. 

Has anyone seen my compassion or vulnerability lately?

Three years ago we renewed our vows on our anniversary because our 3 daughters were devastated that they had not attended our big day.
The best thing about renewing our vows is we made new ones. Perhaps it’s time to do it again. I am now convinced that commitments must evolve to keep pace with the evolution of relationships. I had to let go of all preconceived notions that all agreements are set in stone.
I remind myself, the key is to remain supple… fluid… movement is good. Agreements change… they grow with us. We need to be able to flex as far as a gust may take us.

I reach for my inner child's hand and reclaim my compassion and vulnerability.

My daughter’s scream bursts my bubble… I am back in my living room. 

“Mommy there’s a spider on my flower.” She has reentered the room with a handful of blooms. She hands one to me… “Do another.”

I take the flower and at her insistence,
I repeat the words, 

“I DO 
I MIGHT NOT (every day is different)
I DO…”