~ By Anne Morrow Lindbergh ~
When you love someone, you do not love them all the time, in exactly the same way, from moment to
moment. It is an impossibility. It is even a lie to pretend to. And yet this is exactly what most of us demand.
We have so little faith in the ebb and flow of life, of love, of relationships. We leap at the flow of the tide
and resist in terror its ebb. We are afraid it will never return. We insist on permanency, on duration, on
continuity; when the only continuity possible, in life as in love, is in growth, in fluidity – in freedom, in the
sense that the dancers are free, barely touching as they pass, but partners in the same pattern.
The only real security is not in owning or possessing, not in demanding or expecting, mot in hoping, even.
Security in a relationship lies neither in looking back to what was in nostalgia, nor forward to what it
might be in dread or anticipation, but living in the present relationship and accepting it as it is now.
Relationships must be like islands, one must accept them for what they are here and now, within their
limits – islands, surrounded and interrupted by the sea, and continually visited and abandoned by the tides.