Tell me whom you love, and I’ll tell you who you are.
— a Creole proverb
Laura writes: For a reason I haven’t been able to identify, my seven-year-old has been somewhat obsessed with the concept of soul-mates lately. At dinner, driving in the car, in the quiet, before-sleep moments, he asks me about the whole idea: whether he’s met his soul-mate yet (I tell him it’s unlikely but possible, feeling vaguely wistful—remembering that in his first years, I, of course, was his soul-mate), how he’ll know when he does. And then, as I fear, the question comes: Mom? Who is your soul-mate?
It is a dilemma in relationship. I have always tried to be clear and honest with my sons. Yet now I suspect that I know the answer he wants to hear me say.
“Who do you think is my soul-mate?” I ask, stalling for time.
“I was hoping,” he says, “that you’d say you have one, but I don’t think you do. You should, though.”
“Yes,” I answer slowly, smiling. “I should.” And I should, and I will, I think to myself—the more conscious I have become, the more sure I am that a soul-mate is somewhere ahead of me. I continue, “I am surrounded by love, Christopher, and that is all I ask for right now.” This seems to be enough for him—as it truly is enough for me right now—and he lets the question go for the time being. I am amazed once again at the depth of knowledge and knowing that exists between us. And I am saddened, too, because I can’t give him what I know he knows doesn’t exist—but what I think he must wish for. A soul-mate in every home, bliss in every heart. Someday, I promise him—and myself.
A CONSCIOUS LIVING PRACTICE FOR TODAY – OCTOBER 9
Think about something that you’ve been sad about recently—something you’ve not yet let go completely. Spend a few minutes wondering about your sadness, and its real roots, and why you’re not choosing to let it go yet.
Purchase “A Year of Living Consciously” by clicking the cover below: