Love is Blind

I had come to the end of a long day of pickleballing and poker when I fell into bed, a happy but exhausted little camper. Oh, and don't forget beautiful. I was was a happy, exhausted, beautiful little camper because without thinking, I had hit the sack that night with all of my jewelry and my fake eyelashes still on. As soon as it occurred to me that I was still all blinged out,  I rolled over and carefully removed the adornments and set them on the table for the next day.

At least that's what I thought.  I thought I'd wake up and find everything as I left them, but I was wrong.  The next morning one of my eyelash pieces was missing.

For those of you that don't have any experience with false eyelashes, there is one thing you should know....they don't walk away. In fact one of their best qualities is their inanimateness. So, finding one of them missing, as you can imagine, was unusual.

The list of possible scenarios leading up to it's disappearance was almost non-existent.  In fact, I could only think of one. Perhaps a modest breeze blew it away? Maybe, unless you consider the facts that: 1. Other items would have been blown out of place as well and everything else was still exactly as I left them.  2. There was nothing in the room that could have produced such a breeze in the first place.

So without a plausible scenario, I was left to focus on a plausible culprit instead. Some"thing" didn't happen to it; some"one" did.  And...because I am unfairly prejudiced against spiders I had no other choice than to blame an arachnid.  Species profiling.  It happens.

But don't get me wrong.  I am quite generous when it comes to the scapegoats in my life.  This spider, this eyelash thief, isn't to be condemned for his actions.  He is to be understood.  After all, my eyelashes have flittered their way in to many a lonely man's heart.  They are beguiling and sensuous and from a spider's point of view...quite leggy.

So who's to say that when this eight legged culprit met my eyelash in the middle of the night on my nightstand and realized that she wasn't going to eat him alive after sex or lay eggs on his head...that he didn't fall madly and deeply in love with her?  Who's to say that the two of them aren't right now at this very moment sitting across from each other at a tiny, romantic table for two somewhere...utterly twitter-pated?

It's "awe, how sweet" and "awe, how sad" all at once, isn't it?  A broken heart looms glaringly in this little critter's near future as soon as he realizes who she really is (or isn't). Because love is blind and SO very drenched in optimism, we can...

Oh hey...my eyelash.  I just found it stuck in my hair.  Never mind....

 

The Funeral, Part I

I walk into my room and kick off my shoes.  I think of everyone else that was at the funeral today and I think of them in their rooms, kicking off their shoes too.  We've all just spent the better part of our day feeling the other side of love.  There is one side of love that you feel in your heart and it makes you feel happy and giddy and then there is the other side of love that you feel in your stomach, and it does not feel so  good. It is called mourning.

So we go home and kick off our shoes for one more day because we are still alive.  Our journey is not yet over, but one day it will be and then all of our friends will put on their shoes and stand around feeling the other side of love as it relates to us.  I hope in my case, that while they are standing around, they realize what I realized today.  We are symbiotic.  There are no one way encounters or relationships.  We touch each other and affect each other whether we realize it or not. Significantly.  When God places someone in our orbit, it is not unintentional.  I will try to be more deliberate in my interactions now because of this awareness. Thank you for being in my orbit.

"The same God that placed that star in a precise orbit millennia before it appeared over Bethlehem in celebration of the birth of the Babe has given at least equal attention to placement of each of us in precise human orbits so that we may, if we will, illuminate the landscape of our individual lives, so that our light may not only lead others but warm them as well." ( Neal A. Maxwell  That My Family Should Partake, p. 86)