They are moments we increasingly hide behind closed doors and sneak in during the scarce moments leftover for real life and authentic, emotionally intimate interaction.
These are the moments we stroke our lovers sleeping face, pull their arms around our half-sleeping body and rest our head on their relaxed, rising and falling chest.
This morning, a young man, barely 25, stood in the haze of a muggy late spring morning and tenderly placed his right hand on the small of his girlfriend’s back as he reached gently for her face and kissed her good-bye.
With the advent of six and seven-day weeks combined with twelve and fifteen hour days, it was easy to forget leaving moments like those behind.
As I watched this couple complete their morning good-bye ritual in the private space of the shaded parking lot, I was taken back to my reverie about how very quickly time slips away from us. Business takes away from the joy of making a life. There is little time or energy left over for all of the essential relationships we work so hard and blindly to sustain.
It wasn’t the tender touch of young love that made the breath catch in the back of my throat this morning. It was the timeless nature of true love and connection that stopped me in my tracks.
You see, after almost fifteen years of waking and sleeping alone, I’ve recently been reminded of the deep contentment that comes with emotional commitment.
Regardless of age, those moments when we expose our human frailty to our beloved are the moments that give our days meaning. These are the moments that crack open our consciousness and breathe life into our clock-work days.
This morning, as I paused for a moment to witness this act of tenderness, I was reminded that these moments are precious and few.
It was a reminder to receive the blessing of intimacy with grace, to prioritize according to what my spirit has been whispering to me about, for what seems like forever.