My sister recently recommended “Better date than never” as a feel good reality show. And, as it happened, after a particularly challenging day at work, I plonked myself down on my couch, turned on the tv, and discovered with delight that an episode had just begun.
Approximately 30 seconds into a simple scene with one of the dating hopefuls, a middle aged trans woman called Di, I had tears trickling down my face. Di was eating scones with her mother and discussing why it's been so hard to find her person. Suitably captivated by Di's story, I started watching from the beginning and met Charles, who gets hopelessly tongue-tied during his first ever date, and dancing queen Olivia who is brimming with excitement on a second date. I find myself cringing, smiling and celebrating along with them. My heart is full.
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| Screenshot of Better Date than Never on Iview |
Each of these people speaks openly and with vulnerability about their yearning for connection, and equally powerful fear of rejection, a tension that is such a relatable part of the human condition. Sometimes we humans act on that fear, either clinging to something not quite right because we are afraid of being alone, or sometimes we pre-empt and avoid rejection by quickly ending things ourselves. Sometimes we act with love, either letting someone go because we know the vibe isn’t right and then celebrating when they meet someone who truly sparks joy for them, or we lean in and explore what might be possible when a new and surprising connection forms.
I begin to think of my own life in relation to the highs and lows of the age-old search for love, connection and belonging. I've somehow ended up in a couple of back to back breakups lately, with each one being painful in its own way, regardless of whether I made the decision or the other person. I can relate to Olivia as she struggles to find the words to tell her first date she isn't romantically interested, and Charles as he accepts that one of his dates isn't interested in taking things further with him. I also think of other, non-romantic relationships where things have suddenly become awkward or tense. I have tended to reflect later that they might have been in the pain of feeling rejected, or been hoping for a stronger connection but haven’t known how to ask for it.
The other morning I was reminded in a facebook post (one of the ones that are “suggested” for me) of Rumi’s message that the wound is the place where the light can enter. I’ve resonated with quotes along similar lines - that cracks are what let the light in, or that pain and discomfort are our teacher. I am inspired by the phrase “Broken and Tender” used by Quaker theologian Margory Post Abbot to describe not a person in pain, but a community that is thriving, nourishing, open and connected. The broken part talks of breaking open our hearts enough to allow the light to shine in, or breaking the earth in order to allow a seed to grow. The tenderness is about tenderness to the spirit, or an openness to being led in unexpected directions. A broken and tender community contains people who have “broken apart the bounds of the ego”, and experienced pure love. It is ready and able to be tender in the care of its members and more passionate in its concern for the wellbeing of the world.
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| Art by Annie Hanman, part of "suggested" facebook post |
As I tend to my own thrice broken heart, I can see the opportunities for learning, growth, tenderness and courage. I’m grateful for friends and communities who remind me of the abundant, beautiful and nourishing connections that have been so important to me in my life.
And, as the courageous characters in Better Date than Never are finding, disappointment is a natural part of the journey towards connection. Sometimes our spirited seekers experience the pain and disappointment of things not working out and sometimes they find themselves surprised and delighted with a new connection. They manage to handle these situations with grace, kindness and a sense of gratitude for the learning experience. They are an example to the rest of us.
