I used to think that love was about the mutual recognition of souls and the awakening of our true selves – that it was something beyond the touch of our everyday lives and a Mystery that transcended our capacity to describe it. Now I see that I was right . . . AND that love is about remembering to change the laundry over, seeing that the table needs to be wiped down, because you know that that will make your beloved a little more comfortable and relaxed when she sits down to breakfast. It's about letting go of stubborn notions of who you are, because someone else really needs you to be a better, more responsible and real person than you would be capable of being without them.
It's not a problem. That's the realization of love. There is no need to hold on to the things that you used to think made you the person you were, because if they did, then that person you were is worth growing out of. That's the amazing thing about this deeper love.
I realized the other day, while listening to my little daughter's angry cry, because her digestion is very apparent to her right now and she hasn't realized that there really isn't much she can do about it. . . . my realization was that "there's no room for me." For a moment, it was a panic thought. "There's no room for me! I'm going to be squeezed out of my own life!" and then it sunk in. . . there's no room for the old me – for the self-centered, self-absorbed child that I've been for the first 50 years of my life. I now have someone who is absolutely dependent on me. I cannot be less than what she needs me to be. There's no room for less.