Thoughts on Aging & Romantic Love

The spirit moves in mysterious ways. Take for example romantic love. In youth it comes – flirty – fleeting – furious. We’re often out of our depths. It's a rocky road full of cavernous potholes - falling in, getting out. We may end up in a relationship taboo – married partners, bosses, coworkers. All the while we go to school, work, college, career. And we survive.

Or we may be one of the lucky few that find their one special one. These days we like to call them soulmates. And if not, we know them or seen them, the older couple still sharing looks, witty comments, and the general aura of quiet contentment. Even when annoyed with each other, there's a softness there, a look of, ‘I'll miss you terribly when you're gone.’

I had that once. It was brief; fourteen years of love.When you're young, you can't see the big picture, the whole of your life. You can't see your soulmate’s just there to help you escape from a particularly harsh, judgmental, cult-like religion. Sometimes for the rescuer the task is done but they stay longer than they should causing them harm. 

Moving on from a great love is very hard. Learning lessons along the way, that too is hard. Finding peace - alone. Hard. And when looking back at various loves one wonders, how could I? 

But that's the eyes of experience, the eyes of someone older, smarter, the eyes of someone with less libido. Looking back is easy. Keeping the judgment out takes time. Like grief over lost loves, years pass and forgiveness happens - sneaks up on one, albeit often after time in therapy. 

Now in a body older, not as pretty, not as supple, not as wanted or looked at with admiration ... and maybe even in the category of: ‘they really let themselves go.’ But with a brain and heart wiser, knowledgeable and experienced. 

Who seeks out the hidden depths behind the older appearance? A blind person? For those of us who see, we are creatures visual. When younger, all good looking people were not attractive to us. We had/have internal preferences. As we age perhaps they become less so…maybe.

There's a funny thing, a psychological gift, of being able to spend time with someone and forget the large wart or the nasty scar on the side of their face. You've connected with the third dimension, their essence. The two-dimensional picture in which you see the scar stand out, it's gone, receded. In fact, it is the stranger only that notices.

So perhaps it is like this with aging. Perhaps we take the time to see beyond the two dimensional, past the myriad of wrinkles, past the watery eyes, and the naturally down-turned mouth. We get to know what lights up those eyes, what crinkles the web-like skin, brings smiles and brightens the visage. We see underneath the exterior - into the uniqueness, into the passion, into the soul.