Marlow's Musings 2/11/24
Insights, adventures and fun stuff from this week.
Audio narration by David Marlow
The blue-eyed girl with the long chestnut hair, whose name I struggled to remember when we first met, had come to occupy my thoughts every waking moment.
We met on a blind date, and then a week later, we went out on our first date alone. We spent every day after that together.
A flower shop can be intimidating, especially for a young man. As I walked into Heinl’s Flower Shop1, the myriad choices didn’t overwhelm me. I knew what I wanted: a single yellow rose with a small bouquet of baby’s breath.
I had slyly found out her favorite flowers were roses, though not red ones. She preferred yellow and liked them with those tiny white flowers, baby’s breath. She also wasn’t into a dozen roses, as that was a bit too much. A single rose told the same story.
Her blue eyes lit up as I presented the rose to her on our one-month dating anniversary. She filled a vase with water and, after carefully placing the rose, broke off a piece of the baby’s breath to put in her hair.
Every month after, I would stop at Heinl’s on the way to her house. The marvelous smell of a flower shop even now brings back memories of the fun and excitement of those days.
The monthly tradition continued even when I went away to Marine Corps Boot Camp. Before leaving, I had arranged with my younger brother to deliver roses for the three months I would be gone, giving him the money and pre-signed cards.
I married that blue-eyed girl with the long chestnut hair, and though my love for her continued, the monthly rose tradition did not. We decided that it had become too much between the expense, disruption of being in the Marine Corps, and adding children. She was even the one who brought it up. We’d celebrate in other ways.
Then I broke her heart.
I do little things for her throughout the year, even occasionally buying a single yellow rose with a baby’s breath bouquet.
We’ve kissed on top of the Eifel Tower, the Empire State Building, and Diamondhead.
I bought her a new (and much larger) diamond ring for our twenty-first wedding anniversary. You might wonder why it was our twenty-first, not a more traditional anniversary like the twentieth. It’s because it took me over a year to talk her into letting me spend the money on her.
Remember, she was the one who didn’t want a dozen roses, preferring only one.
As you might have guessed by now, I’m a romantic, or at least my wife tells me I am.
Even so, Valentine’s Day was never a big thing for me. Aside from making and giving out valentines to classmates in elementary school, I’d never done more than enjoy the candy hearts with the goofy sayings my grandmother always had around the house each February.
Maybe because there was no model of it in my life, I had no memory of my parents celebrating; they divorced when I was four. My mom and her second husband typically celebrated Valentine’s Day with an argument, but that was how they celebrated every weekend, so I didn’t notice the differentiation.
I also never had a girlfriend in February. Not through any plan, it seemed to work out that way. I had one girl break up with me in November to avoid having to buy a Christmas gift, but that is a story for another day.
As a result, I never made a big deal out of Valentine’s Day. No, I’ll go further; I never made anything of it at all. Now comes the broken heart part.
One February, over a decade ago, she came to me with tears in those beautiful blue eyes and asked me why I never did anything for her on Valentine’s Day.
Valentine’s Day was a big thing for her parents. Her father always bought her mom a giant box of chocolates, even when money was tight. He had only recently passed away, and though not officially a part of Valentine’s Day, I was doing special things with our daughter, taking her to dinner and Father/Daughter dances in February.
The combination prompted her to wonder why I had never done anything for her, and so she asked me. “You are such a romantic; why don’t you do anything for me on Valentine’s Day?”
In a bit of shock, I asked, “Do you want me to?”
“Yes,” she answered quietly.
What followed was one of the best conversations we’d ever had. She wasn’t angry, nor was I. Two people with unspoken feelings about something sharing those feelings and coming together to give what the other needed.
As you probably guessed, we celebrate the holiday now, though not in a big way. Neither of us likes crowded restaurants nor needs tons of candy.
I found a small chocolatier in a nearby town that makes the most marvelous truffles. After you’ve had a few of those truffles, regular chocolate hearts and whatnot won’t do.
Yesterday, I ventured into the old part of Waukesha, picked out 8 of the most delectable treats, and gave them to my Valentine like I’ve done every year since.
I might even pick up a yellow rose between now and Tuesday. Maybe ask for some baby’s breath so she can dry it and put it in her hair.
Word of the Week
Should (v.)
sh·ood /SHo͝od/
1: used to indicate obligation, duty, or correctness.
2: often utilized when criticizing someone's actions.
3: used to indicate what is probable or likely to happen.
Because ‘should’ and ‘shall’ overlap in origin, it is helpful to dig into both. In both Old English scyld and German schuld there is a connection to guilt with the older German meaning adding in debt.
Ironically, ‘shall’ has diverged and focused on futurity while ‘should’ has become more strongly associated with the meanings of obligation, guilt, and debt.
There is a default1 language in life. The language of default is filled with should’s and have to’s and ought to’s and musts. When we fill our minds with these words, we cut off words of purpose, of possibilities of progress.
We can instead embrace the language of purpose, substituting enabling and expansive words to create an environment of growth, possibilities, capabilities, and collaboration.
In case you missed it…
Podquest Episode 3 is now available. In this episode, I have the pleasure of sitting down with Amanda Stern, a remarkable individual who has discovered the transformative power of journaling in her own life.
Amanda shares her insights on how journaling can be a compass through life's challenges, leading to profound personal growth. She also shares how having an Ikiverse has supercharged her in living out her #Ikigai.
In this clip, Amanda shares the life-altering moment when her husband announced he didn't want to be married anymore and how journaling helped her hear a call to purpose...
You can check it out…
Ikiquest+
This week’s Coffee Contemplation for Ikiquest+ subscribers takes a unique look at humility.
Most definitions of humility focus on being meek and less than. The original definition of humility is more empowering and uplifting.
Ikiquest+ subscribers can listen to it in audio narration or read the transcription.
Comment of the Week:
This week’s comment comes from Malka on last week’s Musing topic Tradition.
“In my life and community, tradition means gratitude and humility. Gratitude for those who came before us, for those who enabled us to be here at all. Humility - the ancestors knew something, if not everything. We didn't create or invent ourselves and it behooves us to remember that, not pretend like we can start from scratch.
Only after giving tradition it's place can we also look to improve it.”
It is definitely not an either-or approach. In the article, I shared a quote from Ian Palmer, a distiller of Scotch, a traditional product if ever there was one, that links to this idea. “We respect the traditions but will not be held back by them.”
Of course, too many people are willing to drop traditions before they examine or understand them. Just as many blindly hold on to them.
Which is why I love what Malka shared. It is only after giving tradition its place that we can then look to improve.
Quote I’m Pondering
This thought is from Margaret Atwood…
“Should is a futile word. It's about what didn't happen. It belongs in a parallel universe. It belongs in another dimension of space.”
The great irony is that since I have worked to eliminate ‘should’ from my vocabulary, I have far more energy for actually doing things that would have become guilty ‘shoulds’ later.
Interesting Thing I Saw This Week
Our world seems to get noisier by the day, literally and figuratively. Earth.fm is a website with nature sounds and is all about finding places in nature that quiet the noise.
Because we’ve had little snowfall in Wisconsin this year, I tried out the nature sounds by listening to Jan Brelih’s recording of snowfall in Slovenia—a splendid sonic walk through snowy woods.
There is also a search feature to find quiet places within noisy cities in your area.
Final Thoughts
I said no to a friend this week. Not rudely or firmly, rather to honor boundaries I need now with openness to revisit things later.
Both the request and my initial reaction screamed ‘should,’ filled with debt, guilt, and owing. It would have been easy to say yes.
Had I, neither of us would have been served. I’d love to say it was easy saying no. It wasn’t. It was, however, the best answer for my art: to create an environment of respect, growth, and possibilities and open doors for future collaboration.
Quest well
Heinl’s Flower Shop operated on that corner in Terre Haute, Indiana for over 150 years. It closed a few years ago and with it a small chapter in my life.
Excellent on so many levels David. I like that you indeed got the right partner and lover for life. She seems like a great soulmate! Seem like you owe your Dad on that one. Appreciate other dynamics at work with the one yellow flower, special chocolates and speaking like lovers should....a loving conversation of mutual respect and needs. I know that saying no to a friend or someone close can be tough but is needed. As is said > if I agreed with you, you would both be wrong! Quest well....mine is always in the front windshield IHS and never in the rear view mirror.
I am happy to hear of another blind date that turned out well. This year we will celebrate or 45 Valentines Day together, and our 42 as a married couple. It all started on a blind date arranged by my father who didn't like the girl I was dating.