and Words
I′ve been reading books of old, the legends and the myths
Achilles and his gold, Hercules and his gifts
Spider-Man’s control and Batman with his fists
And clearly, I don′t see myself upon that list
But she said, “Where d’you wanna go? How much you wanna risk?
I’m not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts
Some superhero, some fairy tale bliss
Just something I can turn to, somebody I can kiss”
Lyric excerpts from Musixmatch.
As we got a new car nearly a year ago, we finally enjoyed integration with modern technology. In our case, this meant having digital music in the car as well as a combined playlist. We both contribute to that playlist. Honestly, on most trips, we talk instead of playing music. These trips mostly occur when we start or end our workdays, and thus, we often converse about the events of our day.
However, we do play music when the mood arises. She is more selective than I am about the songs that we play, whenever she selects the music (hint: most of the time, since I normally drive). She often skips certain tunes based on mood. I understand that; I often skip songs even on carefully curated playlists. There are some songs that I occasionally request we not skip, such as Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’.
Otherwise, I have no insight into which songs she chooses to play. Being a software tester, I developed a knack for pattern matching, but never considered applying that to our songs on the playlist.
One particular day, she skipped over several songs and eventually stopped on ‘Something Just Like This’. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed an almost imperceivable smile as she listened to the song. However, I note that she rarely skips this song. We all have memories attached to songs; I developed this blog around this very idea. I choose to write about some.
She then turns quietly to me and tells me that she thinks of me when she hears this song. It then became my turn to smile as I listened to the words. On this holiday, I can pause and reflect on that for which I’m grateful.
In high school, I wanted to become a novelist. A son of Chinese immigrants, who learned English as his third language, aspired to be a writer. My tenth-grade English teacher encouraged me to write. Sadly, that idea went to shit when my guidance counselor examined my PSAT scores. I subsequently attended the University of Miami and received my engineering degree.
Years later, as I explored writing, I created an online journal on Geocities; it had a modest readership. A woman in North Carolina planned to move to Seattle and performed a web search about the weather in Seattle. She found my rant comparing the Seattle weather to Miami’s. She sent me an email; that was decades ago. She and I now share a home.
I am deeply grateful to that high school English teacher. Had it not been for that teacher, I would not have met the love of my life. Furthermore, had that woman in North Carolina not conducted a simple web search, she would’ve never found me. I often think about two simple twists of fate and how easily it might’ve turned out differently. I thank my lucky stars.
I reflect on the person I was when we first met. My moral compass hasn’t changed; I generally believe in the same things I did back then. However, I was filled with anger. The passion was strong but lacked direction, much like releasing a filled balloon as it darts all over the room. Someone merely darting in front of me on the road led me to tailgate them. Each such action was an affront to the very core of my being.
Knowing her has softened me; she has minimized the prickly edges. The passion still exists, but it now speaks with direction and empathy. She taught me to listen and empathize. She knows how to tell me, “You’re wrong about this”, without the “I told you so.” My conversations became less adversarial and more productive, as I learned about people. She taught me to trust and assume the best in people.
She looks at me, warts and all, and still sees the person she loves. I may be flawed, but I still deserve love and a sense of belonging. I see myself through her eyes, and I see a person of not only passion, but also compassion. Being with her made me a better person, and for that I’m filled with gratitude.
Her words echo in my head, “If you can be anything in this world, be kind.” While I know that these words are common, she genuinely means them. She taught me that kindness is not a sign of weakness. If anything, expressing kindness, even to those less deserving, demonstrates strength, not weakness. Kindness is a choice; it’s your choice. I watch in awe and admiration as she navigates this world with grace, strength, and kindness.
I won’t tell you that we agree on everything; we do not. However, if there’s anything that will help us wiggle out of this mess that we’re in is compassion and empathy. We need to see and acknowledge the humanity in everyone. We need to understand that empathy is not a sin, but instead a virtue. If everyone could hear that message and take it to heart, the world would similarly be a better place.
On this season of giving thanks, I’m filled with gratitude and humility. She melted years of frustration and anger with grace and compassion. While it has taken years to develop this unconditional love and trust with her, I only regret that I couldn’t see and hear this sooner. I thank my lucky stars that I wake up next to her and get to call her my wife.
Though if I had anything to complain about, as I reflect on the lyrics of this song, perhaps I’m a little hurt that I’m not a superhero with superhuman gifts. 😉