Oz and I are both in school. He is studying computer programming (among other things…I haven’t decided if this makes him brilliant or insane). And I am studying psychology. These differences can be quite an adventure when it comes to communicating mental processes. Oz first gathers as many possibly relevant yet logical facts as he can, and then in a scientific manner he approaches the problem. I hear the problem, analyze the context and the possible translations, and am way more interested in why said thing is a ‘problem’ than necessarily fixing it. (Don’t most things fix themselves anyway?)
You can imagine my frustration when I am not the next thing in line to get “sequenced” as the computer jargon goes. And with my intense Type A personality and chronic pain disease, I am prone to hard and fast despair. And in a moment of said despair, the thought entered my mind “He doesn’t love me well.”
And after immediately refuting the thought (because it couldn’t be further from the truth), I wanted to re-examine it.
Because when I think about it, I don’t really know a lot about the word “well.” It’s the politically correct answer for the question How are you doing? But I so rarely feel well. And I spend the majority of my time chasing after this elusive word when it comes to my health. The rest of my life I want to be extraordinary. My health, I just want it to be well.
My love is extraordinary. And great. And powerful. Most of love is. There is a whole philosophical camp that believes that every story is a love story. They believe that love can be between you and another person, between you and a furry friend, or even the love you are growing for yourself (fertile ground for more love!) . You are the writer of your own love story, they say. So if it isn’t extraordinary, or great, or powerful, that’s up to you. You pull inspiration from others and everything around you, but you pen the words.
So create a love that is whole and well.
Back to my experience with well-ness. I have found that ‘well’ is entirely relative. Today I am well, compared to yesterday, but hopefully less well than tomorrow. So ‘well’ is a lived experience, like love. Love is a fully lived experience. So how could Oz’s computer coded love for me ever be simply ‘well’?
Come to think of it, both of us aren’t ‘well.’ I realized just how thankful I am to have someone brave enough to love me sick.