Mystery and Knowing

Recently I heard a This American Life segment featuring a man who couldn't decide on a couch.

I related to this "problem." We recently bought our first couch. Not a futon, not a loveseat...a real couch. Much more money than ever before spent on any furnishing. Much more space occupied by this hulking object. A lot of options to consider. I could relate. I wanted something more special for my money than I had ever gotten in any single object before. (Except my iPhone.) I almost got a blue couch, that's how special and unusual I wanted it to be.

But this guy couldn't decide for about fifteen years.

The segment compared his sofa indecision--his endless magazine perusals, specialist referrals, and returns--to his dating indecision. He was a man without a couch and without a significant other, with dreams of the perfect mate and the perfect lounge space, neither of which had come along just yet.

Which made me think about how we each choose any of the people or objects to whom we offer our time and our space. At a certain point in the research and in the dreaming, we may find someone or something that seems absolutely perfect. We must have it, or die trying. Usually these ones feel a little out of reach.

Or we may find someone or something that seems to work well enough, and is within reach. The couch man seemed to fear that anything he could actually have in his living room wouldn't be all that great. He feared "settling."

But regardless--whether we "settle" for what is within reach or "strive" for something a bit beyond--there hopefully comes the point at which we have the person or the couch in our living room. Whether we did or did not think it was possible, it is here, now. The honeymoon commences.

And as the sheen of newness is dulled, as wear and tear accrues, we have a choice. An even more crucial turning point than the original decision!

We can think that we know all there is to know about this loved one, that he/she/it has become familiar.

Or we can choose to stay aware of the mystery that remains. The ways in which the loved one will surprise us and support us in new and unfamiliar ways as they change over time.

This is actually a lot easier to see with a human being than with a couch, if only we open our eyes!

Dedicate a practice to a loved one who surprises you. Or dedicate it to cultivating the ability to SEE how that loved one can surprise you, can still have mysteries hidden within, and aspects you haven't yet noticed.