On love

Last year I dated a man long distance; consequently, we spent a lot of time on the phone, talking and sharing about ourselves and our pasts. A statement he made to me early on that I felt in my core was: “You can lose everything - money, possessions, jobs, people, status - but no one can take your experiences away from you.”

I also believe no one can take your love from you. Furthermore, the more time I spend living, the more I believe that love is energy, and it is the base currency that we have as humans. Let me expand.

I said I would be back this week with a discussion of Christopher McDougall’s Born to Run, so why the hell am I talking about love?

McDougall’s best-selling book is equal parts epic adventure, detailed history, and inspirational mini-biographies. I’ve read it no less than 10 times, the first almost 15 years ago, shortly after my ex-husband and I ran our first half-marathon road race. Running was an activity that we both enjoyed; he had been skilled in cross-country as a teen before starting to smoke and wanted to get back to it; I always remember loving the sensation of running as a child and had dabbled in track and then started running 3-5 miles to release the pressure valve of energy that always seemed to be simmering under my surface. We both read the book and - like most readers, I am sure - were enchanted and enthralled by the story of the Tarahumara people.

Their simple lives are not easy - they live in a desolate place where resources are scarce - but they nevertheless have an abundance of joy. At the center of their culture is a game they play where they run nonstop for a determined amount of time - 12, 24, 36 hours - along the cliffs and through the canyons in which they live while kicking a hard ball. Make no mistake - the competition is fierce, there are wagers placed, both the pre- and post-race parties are downright bacchanalian. But this game fosters their culture’s critical virtues of strength, patience, cooperation, determination, and persistence (in addition to developing the much-needed physical skills to navigate around said canyons and cliffs). Most importantly, it creates a bond between the people; a bond that is critical for their survival.

“ ‘We say [the game] is the game of life,’ Angel [a school teacher] said. ‘You never know how hard it will be. You never know when it will end. You can’t control it. You can only adjust.’ ” (Page 41)

In the game of life, you can lose everything, but you can’t lose your love. It’s right there, humming inside you, every day. It’s one of the few resources you have that I believe, the more you try to withhold from giving it, the worse off you are. It’s why random acts of kindness feel good to both the receiver and the giver.

To run requires very little - some food, water, and (possibly) something on your feet.

To love requires very little - to be alive and to want to connect with and bolster your fellow humans.

What’s a way you can choose to love today? Be well, beautiful people.