The Couple That Plays Together...
On Keeping Love and Relationship Alive
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This morning I overheard my wife, Jennifer, talking on the phone with her friend, and you know how it is when you hear your own name spoken in another room; your ears perk up. What’s she saying about me?
She was telling her friend about an audition video I’d helped her make last week. A small production company is looking for someone to perform a bit part in a movie that will film in Western Massachusetts. They are “casting female singers, age 30+, who play guitar, for a new movie project. Must be local to New England.” (We’re assuming that “plus” sign has no limit.)
I’d mostly forgotten about the video; my wife leads a creative life so there is always something like that going on. She’s currently rehearsing for a comedy sketch show that opens next month at one of the community theaters here on Cape Cod, she performs twice monthly with a local improv group, and she plays a regular coffee house gig at the new vegan café/bookstore.
But this reminder awakened the memory of a pleasant afternoon. The video is only about thirty seconds long but we spent an hour and a half on the project. First, we went over her lines five or six times, then we moved some furniture around and set up a tripod for her iPhone. I pushed the “record” button and read the off-camera prompts while Jennifer sang and recited her lines. Four or five takes resulted in a passable audition video. Altogether, it was a congenial bit of teamwork.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about what makes a good relationship. Last week I read a Substack post on Matthew Long’s newsletter, The Books of Our Lives. The post touches on a book called The Five Love Languages, by Gary Chapman, which holds that each person tends to speak in, and responds best to, only one or two of five “love languages.”
I brought the theory up to Jennifer and we assessed ourselves in its context. We found that she responds best to “Quality Time” and “Receiving Gifts,” and for me it’s “Affirmative Words” and “Physical Touch.” Funny that of the five we don’t even share one! But then again, the fact that neither of us resonates with “Acts of Service” stems from a reluctance to ask for help that underpins both our personalities. The discussion itself was a bonding one, and we ended up feeling closer for it, so Matthew’s Valentine’s-themed post hit its mark.
I was thinking about this conversation, as well as another brief exchange we shared a few days ago. There is a little rubber Superball that’s been loitering for years in a candy bowl on our kitchen counter, along with some paper clips and thumb tacks, a book of stamps, some sheetrock screws, and a few ancient candies that I really need to get rid of. I absently plucked up the superball while dinner was cooking and started bouncing it on the floor, and while I played, I remarked, “I like Superballs.” Jennifer, who was walking past at the moment, said, “I like Superballs, too. We have that in common.”
Just an innocuous remark, but also one of those intimacies that a couple can sometimes bring forth without a lot of talk or effort. We both understood that somewhere in the past we’d had this discussion before. In a most casual exchange, then, we animated that history, summoned the early times, when there was still so much to learn about each other. And thus, in the act of exchanging a few simple words, we further reinforced and deepened our connection.
These few unexceptional incidents—teaming up on a creative video project, a couple of casual conversations and shared opinions—are but tiny stitches in the patchwork of our life together. But reflecting on them, I realized what a good life it is. And I’m not saying we don’t have our tense moments. We argue occasionally, we can hurt each other’s feelings, or become morose, ill-tempered, and difficult to be around. We are human, after all. But we never take each other for granted. We respect each other. We each appreciate the other’s space and personhood, the need to self-actualize, to be wholly oneself, even if we don’t always know exactly what that means.
It’s the week of Valentine’s Day as I write this. Thinking about romance and lasting relationships, I imagined laying out a bullet-pointed list: “Ways to keep your relationship alive.” I’m not going to do it, but if I did, here would be one:
—Keep a small tennis or whiffle ball in your shared living space, somewhere visible and accessible. Once in a while, when you’re both in the same room, take the ball and pass it to your partner (make sure they see it coming or this experiment is going to backfire). They’ll pass it back, because for some reason people tend to do that, and thus an unplanned game of pass has begun. Play for five or ten minutes. If you want to spice things up (I recommend it!), add some challenges to your game, like spinning around before catching the ball, or throwing the ball over your shoulder or under your leg. You’ll both be laughing before you know it. It’s surprising how a cheery little game of pass can bring you closer, can soften any tension that may have existed between you, can remind you of why you fell in love in the first place.
And there would be more points on the list: date night (and instead of the same old restaurant, something new, like axe-throwing, or a comedy show); making a point of speaking to your partner in their love language rather than your own (I credit Matthew Long for this one); an unexpected gift once in a while (for instance, one of those essential-oil soaps from Whole Foods or a gourmet cupcake from that new place in town); asking your partner during dinner to share their high point/low point of the day (and asking follow-up questions; really getting them talking).
But there’s no bullet-pointed list here because this isn’t that kind of essay. I’ll leave the relationship how-to lists to the Gary Chapmans out there.
I practice Buddhist mindfulness and meditation. Mindfulness is simply paying attention to what is happening here and now, with courage and honesty and without judgement. Meditation is a practice that opens some space in the mind for clearer seeing and understanding.
This open space allows for a longer response time when things go in an unexpected direction; for instance, when my partner says or does something that hurts or angers me. Where I once would have reacted quickly, these days I find myself reflecting on the emotions behind that reactive urge; what exactly is this painful feeling? Where does it come from? Where is it in my body and is it here to stay or is it just passing through? I understand that the source of my feelings isn’t outside of my own mind, that it is my own network of conditioned expectations and beliefs about relationship—a network which I have come to think of as part of my “self”—that has been challenged. Should I lash out at the outside world because the fragility of my self-view has been exposed?
In fact, when I take the time to reflect, I see that it is not my partner’s job to say and do all the things that help me maintain the illusions of self that I carry around with me, the most-challenged view being that I am likeable, and therefore people should act accordingly.
Such are some of the results of living more mindfully, of giving the mind a break from its constant concept-making and wall-building. I find myself more willing to take personal responsibility, to leave off judging others, to stop expecting perfection in a world where people are all just trying to figure out their own stuff.
Even when we do have a disagreement, I am reminded that my wife’s goal is not to hurt me; and mine is certainly not to hurt her. Most often, the need is just to feel seen and acknowledged, a desire I think we all recognize. It’s not going to jeopardize my very existence to swallow my pride, my need to be right, and just say, “I see you. I hear you.”
By reflecting more, and having the courage to face the desires, insecurities, and illusions that make up such a great part of the person I consider me, I have found myself more patient and understanding of others, and especially more deeply appreciative of my wife and of the life and the relationship we are so lucky to share.
And of course, it doesn’t hurt to be married to someone as creatively dynamic and delightful as she.
Happy Valentine’s Day, dear Jennifer. ❤️
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Another great piece, Don! Love your writing. I always get something from it. I have a loving husband of 25 years and I so appreciate the “self-reminders” you wrote about—how to keep a relationship healthy and not let our own ego and human tendencies damage the connection. I believe this is a struggle inherent of marriage. Making mistakes, followed by glimmers of awareness, then heal and repair. Over and over, as we try to do better and love our partner (and ourself) better. It never ends, but if we really commit to looking inside ourself and opening our heart, progress is made as we get older and more self-aware. You captured that beautifully. Thank you.
Thanks for this wise and wonderful piece of writing on relationships, Don.
My husband, Tim, and I play a game at least four times a week. It's called hide and seek! Whoever gets home from work, first is the one to hide if he/she chooses.
It's so much fun, and we both look forward to it. We each have our secret places that neither of us have been able to discover yet. So when one of us gets tired of hiding, and the seeker hasn't found their hider, one must sneak out and not reveal the secret hiding place! It's a lot of fun and keeps us young at ♥️.