Newlyweds are told they will not understand what true love is until they have passed through the years of their lifetime together. Why is this? What makes this time so important? Is it time, really, or is it what we do with the time we spend together? I propose the latter. What makes for "quality" time together and why is it so important to have it? Consider this:A dating couple:
He stops by a flower shop and buys a single rose, thinking of how beautiful she looked the night before as he sat across from her at dinner. He mostly remembers how he felt as he gazed into her smooth, delicate face as she talked about herself. He thinks he loves her.
An engaged couple:
After his 45th time saying "goodbye" that night he says, "I love you." He thinks of the time they spent together for the past few months: talking all night on the phone, going out to the movies, eating at restaurants and spending time with her friends and family. What he mostly remembers is how the feelings of each moment built upon one another. At first he "liked" her because she was so beautiful, now he sees how he "loves" her, not just because of her beauty, but everything that she is. She hiccups when she laughs (he loves it), she covers her face when she is embarrassed (he loves it), she is a passionate perfectionist, maybe to a fault (he loves it), she desires a closer relationship with Heavenly Father (he loves it). He knows he loves her.
A young married couple:
Crying babies have been the reason for the deep sleep interruptions for the past week. He has been under a lot of stress at work staying up till 2:00 or 3:00 am to finish his work; and yet when he gets home all he wants to do is look into the face of his beautiful wife and tell her how much he loves and appreciates her hard work and determination as a mother and spouse. He still really loves her.
An old married couple:
This may be his last time to see her looking into his eyes, the same eyes that have watched and helped him through his struggles, the same eyes that have watched out for their precious children and grandchildren for years. Now, nearly dim, he can't help but shed a tear, yearning for more time to be with her. He loves her, forever.
You might ask what all this has to do with learning. Well, I have been inundated by thoughts of a concept I am learning about in my Cognitive Psychology class this semester. The theory is called Distinctiveness of Encoding, or the idea that the more difficult decisions you have to make about a new thing to be learned, the better you will remember it. Take for example the young man described above, whether the young man knew it or not he was making difficult decisions all along the way throughout his life. These decisions were simple at first: Do I think she is pretty? Should I go on another date? Then, they subtly changed: What is it about her that I love? How does she make me feel when I am around her? Why do I spend so much time with her? As times got tough he mused: Should I let these tough events affect my love for her? How is it that I still love her, even though life is so hard? And as the temporal experience neared to a close: How will I go on without her? Does my life have meaning without her in it? Will I be able to see her again?
If you want to be as happy as an old otter couple, ask questions that became more difficult to answer and give more meaningful responses. As you do this, you will begin to learn what true love is. Our young man knew his love would last forever, he felt it emanate throughout his whole soul. When we invest this much mental energy into anything we start to have a deeper understanding of the meaning of that thing. You may have "forgotten" how to love your spouse or just forgotten the quadratic formula; whatever the case, if it is something worth knowing, spend time asking difficult questions and you may find yourself learning more about that thing than you ever had before. As in the case of this love-struck man, you will learn to love more and be better than you could be alone.
This is my life, I love you sweetie.
