I recently finished Glennon Doyle's memoir Untamed, which 'explores the joy and peace we discover when we stop striving to meet the expectations of the world, and start trusting the voice deep within us.' With a growing number of books to read on my shelves, it feels a happy accident to have picked this one up at exactly this time - the start of a new year, and however imposed you feel it may be, an opportunity to set some intentions.
In one of the chapters, Doyle shares notes from readers who are struggling, whether it be from alcoholism, a loveless marriage, or a sick child. She then asks each of them a version of the same question: 'what is the truest, most beautiful [story about your life/marriage/world] you can imagine?,' and requires that they write it down. The idea being what we put on paper becomes a way of life, launching us from the thinking to the doing phase.
So this post is me, answering what is the most beautiful relationship I can imagine, in hopes of cultivating just that in 2021. I actually started to jot some things in a notebook, but decided that by doing it here instead not only am I writing it down, but putting it out there in the world. Universe, please feel free to send it back.
Before I begin, let me say that this was harder than expected, as I realize I haven't had many healthy examples to draw from. I stared at the screen for a long time, and almost nixed this post. Which is probably EXACTLY why I need it. Here goes nothing...
The most beautiful relationship I can imagine is one in which there are lots of questions, but never in regards to how the other person feels about you. It's picking a destination to go away to together at the last minute, and the place you can't wait to get back to when you've been gone a while. Sharing your home, friends, and life, but not necessarily every single interest. It's conversations that you don't want to stop, yet also the comfortable silence in the last few moments before you drift away to sleep at night. It's laughter - lots and lots of it - and someone to walk with you in your darkest hours. It's a post-it note you find in your book, a song shared, and being sent outside with an umbrella just in case. The first person you call with a win and the one to lift you up after a loss. It's dancing in the kitchen and singing in the car and bright colors and passion. Going to a party and finding each other's eyes across the room. It's knowing their coffee order, and not knowing how you did life before them. And living to make them smile. It's the warmth of bread just out of the oven, a candle, or sunshine on a chilly day. And the force of waves crashing against the shore, quietly powerful and consistent. It is all this, and more.
From the end of the chapter:
"Let's look at what we've written and decide that these are not pipe dreams; these are our marching orders. These are the blueprints for our lives, our families, and the world.
May the invisible order become visible.
May our dreams become our plans."
What would your blueprint be?
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