The Pull of What We Love


This morning I am listing to Pandora and wondering about life, about the pull of life that makes us dance.

My child is one of the happiest children I have ever known. The pull of what he loves is strong in his life. He loves singing and drawing, writing and reading, watching movies and playing. Which is not so different than the things I love, actually. Maybe not so different than the things many people love, in the generality of it all.

It's in the particulars that we differ, that we all differ. While I have always liked Pixar, I have never loved it to the same extent as my Rem. He is Buzz Lightyear. He is Lightening McQueen. These are characters that are his friends, absolutely. He has memorized all the lines, all the moves. (Yes, there is or there was echolalia at work here, too, but this is what he loves and so it goes into his memory. What else would he memorize? Even echolalia is rarely random, in my opinion.)

The characters that are my friends are more age appropriate to a 36-almost-37 year old woman. Kaylee. Mal. Inara. Neo. Trinity. Castle and Beckett. Jehane and Ammar and Rodrigo (one of the best love triangles ever written, I am sure, because there is no drama, there is only love and acceptance and the horrifying sacrifice of one man - yes, I'm currently rereading it. I love Guy Gavriel Kay's writing so very much, I can not stay away for long).There are more, of course there are more. I am drawn to movies and books and songs and art and I know what I love.

We both know what we love and we let ourselves be pulled by our love. And the things that we love are wonderful. But the people we love in real life are even more wonderful.

And it is the people that we love that make life worth living. The people who embrace us despite not quite loving the same things as us, but loving that we love them. The people who cherish us and make our hearts sing and keep us dancing.