A number of friends have come into or out of relationships in the past few weeks, or wanted advice on finding a significant other, and it’s made me think back on our early romance. I had pursued Alison indirectly but persistently for months before winter break our freshman year, and she had, at times more or less politely, declined. When we came back, things had changed: suddenly she was stopping by to see me, getting a bit closer, or even tickling me.
We already knew a lot about each other, but when we started dating a whole new vista emerged. Suddenly it was fun to just hold hands, talk for long hours, or see each other first thing in the morning. After that brief interlude, our relationship has changed many times and we certainly know and love each other far more now than then. It’s tempting to say that we were naive and shallow those first few weeks, but I’m not sure that’s true.
When I first started learning Chinese, I was so ready to study and work hard that the first few weeks went by very quickly. Then it dawned on me, like a child who makes the mistake of thinking when first riding a bicycle: “I’m doing it, really doing it!” and a period of self-satisfied contentment set in. After that, learning how much I didn’t know about the language, I found myself stuck in self-effacing despair.
Those two feelings alternated for many years, and I thought they represented the full range of possible attitudes toward the language. But the two apparent opposites, contentment and despair, actually both share a common antithesis: love. Both enjoying my language skill and being humbled by my lack of skill have in common that they are focused on me. When I stop worrying about myself, I can simply love the language, both the parts I think I know and those I know I don’t, desiring to improve not for any personal goal but simply because it is intrinsically worthwhile.
It took me a long time to stop creating incentives for learning and just love what I was doing. When I was centered on myself, I used to look back on that first few weeks of Chinese class and think how shallow my understanding had been. But now I know differently: the short time that I simply lost myself in the new language was actually a small foretaste of the wonder and mystery that I have now, really loving what I learn.
I think the first period of our romance was just like that. In the years since, I have often felt either confident or worried about our relationship. But at my best, I’ve let go of those concerns and simply been overwhelmed with the mystery of what I do and don’t know about Alison. In those times, I feel a lot like the first week we were dating and just enjoy being with her and learning about her.
Love is choosing to be absorbed in something else and forgetting yourself. I don’t always succeed; but when I don't, I remember that first time that I was absorbed in Alison and make an effort to once again let her amaze and mystify me.
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