Tag Archives: heart

“When you fish for love,

Bait with your heart, not your brain” said Mark Twain.
How foolish. Your heart can be so easily misled! It is easily fooled by scent, twinkling eyes, the touch of a hand, the feel of a kiss. I’ve had a few disastrous relationships in my time, and I have to say most of my missteps (thankfully, minor), have been because of the replacement of love by lust. I’ve never denied I’m a sensualist – I like to experience life in all its richness, from the feel of a rose to the smell of fresh laundry to the taste of an earlobe.
But if I didn’t use my head in romantic relationships, I’d have ended up with all sorts of inappropriate folks, most recently someone whose inner child still had control of the driving.
My ex, God love him, was a brain fishing, though the heart caught up quickly. He came from the same background as I did, knew little things like how to set a table or cook a meal, knew the importance of duty and caring even when you didn’t necessarily want to. He was, and is, a good man. Well, mostly…
Anyway, as we head into that most Hallmarky romantic month, I feel the pull towards that fishing for love (as you probably know, there’s that dating site, “plenty of Fish” which I resent because it makes everyone seem unspecial).
But I figure the temptation will pass. This is a bad month for the brain to win out. So much pushed romance, so many hearts and flowers and mad couplings – and besides, it’s cold! Tempting to curl up with someone.
Be careful out there, fellow singletons. Wait til March, when the pressure is off. And let your head rule, no matter what Mark Twain said…

Going home again

ImageThey say you can’t ever, ever, go home again.

In a way, it’s true. Life has changed, people have moved on, the place is subtly different and yet familiar.

I recently went for a visit to Ottawa, my home several times over my life – as a new nurse, taking on my first, terrifying job; as a newish mother and first-time home owner, starting to take on grown-up commitments and lifestyles; as an experienced military wife, choosing to keep my life separate from the military; and as a single person again, coming “home” to a place that could take care of me, in the physical, sensory, emotional ways.

It is a beautiful city, though it was drenched with heat so intense I wanted to lie about and gasp in air conditioning. The grass, green when I arrived, had already started to brown before I left, three days later. The canal was gorgeous, the city all dressed in Canadian flags for Canada Day, sounds of music everywhere from bagpipes to opera.

But it wasn’t home, so mingled with the recognition and the pleasure in seeing old friends and family was the tiniest bit of grieving.

I’ve lived so many places, and loved most of them (Leavenworth was a bit much, really). I’ve tried to return to a few of them, with various disappointments. Shilo, Manitoba, was no longer a fun place to live with the kids. Annapolis Royal, NS, though sweet, seems small and empty. Kingston, ON – well, I could still live in Kingston. I may live there again one day. I liked it there, both as a student and as a grown-up, though I have many sad memories associated with the place – the breakup of my marriage, my job failures, the discovery of my illness, all that stuff. The pleasant memories outnumber them, though, so on balance it seems a good place. And there’s the lake…

Flying into Nova Scotia, I happened to see the coast as we crossed over the Bay of Fundy, and was suddenly, unexpectedly, simply, happy. I feel at home here, in one scant year, and yet I still feel there is so much to learn about my new place. I think I’ll be exploring for years. It makes me smile.

It is funny meeting up with people from the past, though. Some are friends forever, and it doesn’t matter how long it’s been since last you saw them – they still call to your heart. Some have changed and you realize the relationship you cherished is no longer sustainable. Some make you wish you could be just down the road from them again. It isn’t predictable which will be which. I met all three types of friends over this short visit.

So coming back there is a sense of loss, a sadness, but also a sense of completion. Time to move on, taking those friends that stay along for the ride. I’m so happy to have so many of them. You know who you are. I love you all.