Learning How To Love Each Other

I guess that makes me a killer?

A year ago I found myself wandering aimlessly on Main Street in Catskill, New York. It was a trip with some upstate friends I hadn’t seen in quite a while and we spent the day reconnecting in this village on the Hudson River. Main Street is home to a collection of funky little shops and restaurants, and it was in one of these funky little shops where I first saw her. I turned my head and there she was. 

A bonsai tree.

I know nothing about bonsai trees, but this one just called me to it. I was immediately struck by its asymmetrical shape, sort of like an inverted Nike logo, as if its branches were silently flowing in the breeze. For just $35 I could take her home. In that moment I became a bonsai tree owner, envisioning myself as some sort of Zen master meticulously and intentionally caring for this little tree.

My Zen master vision not withstanding, a year later the vibrant and green bonsai tree I brought home with me is now brittle and brown. There is no life left in its branches and bark.

I thought I new how to take care of plants. How hard could it be? Water and sunshine, repeating as necessary. Apparently the needs of this bonsai tree were different than I assumed them to be. My indifference to its specific needs resulted in the demise of this beautiful tree.

I never made much effort to learn how to properly care for a bonsai tree. I didn’t think I needed to. I never asked specifically what I would need to do to keep this little tree vibrant and lush. Instead of seeking to  understand what was needed from me in this relationship, I simply applied my assumptions as to what it would take to position this tree to thrive and grow. 

My assumptions were wrong, and the bonsai is dead. 

Had I bothered to do just a little bit of investigating as to what I would need to do to properly feed and care for this tree, the tree would still be alive. 

I wonder what else my assumptions may have killed?

Especially when it comes to other relationships.

Human relationships are also living breathing things. Like plants, all relationships need to be properly fed and watered, weeded and fertilized if they are to maintain their vibrancy and grow. But how often do we simply assume we know what each relationship actually needs in order for it to thrive and grow only to be surprised when it does neither?

The strongest and healthiest relationships need me to ask and then understand what each relationship needs. I can’t simply assume I know. I need to be willing to ask, and then be willing show up accordingly. I need to be attentive and proactive, not simply taking a one-size-fits-all approach to the relationships most important to me.

Or, I can accept the risks which come from blindly assuming I know what needs to be done, remaining indifferent to the process, oblivious to the outcome.

Like my bonsai tree, humans don’t come with instructions as to how to best take care of them. Nor do relationships. While there are some universal needs we all share, the complexity of life creates its own unique emotional needs which require attention and care. Our willingness to uncover and embrace those needs and learning how to love each other will greatly influence the vitality of any relationship.

Choosing to meet people where they are instead of where you want them to be may be more work, but building anything of significance will always require a more significant effort worthy of its creation. 

Photo by Travis Grossen on Unsplash