There is a marvelous movie called Awakenings. It is based on true events, in which an avant-garde doctor found ways to liberate his Alzheimer's patients from catatonia. People who days before had presented as empty shells, woke up to expose their humanity, their zest, their wholeness. An inner light blinked on. Or maybe the light was there all along, it was merely cloaked in darkness.
Marriage is an invitation to reveal that light. When we first fall in love it is easy to notice the halo, and to bask in the brightness. But the luminosity fades, and the halo disappears.
The book of Genesis describes the creation of Eve as a process that transpires while the man is asleep. He is not fully aware. That dovetails with the experience some couples have where growth is churning even as they are oblivious, or distracted. It is not until much later that they look over their shoulders to see how their relationship has expanded. It reminds me of the surprise I feel when I see photographs of my kids from a year or two ago and feel incredulous at how small they were.
Just recently John did something that used to bug me. He likes to buy eight cans of beans or four jars of peanut butter, when I would get one or two. If we have not already scarfed up the supply the result may be a row of ten jars. I prefer to finish it up before we buy more, but he likes to have plenty. For years I was asleep to the generosity fueling his behavior. But this time my eyes snapped open to that bright intention.
It was there all along, of course, but I was looking the wrong direction to see it.
