Heart Smarts

The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.  (Carl Jung)

This is one of my favorite quotes.  It so eloquently describes the effect that we look for in friends and that we long for in love. For me, it fits nicely into my romantic ideal of a connection that subtly shifts everything I think I know about myself.  And its gets me thinking about where that romantic ideal has gotten me so far in life -- anyone who knows my romantic history would hesitate just a little in evaluating its success.  After all, technically I am a divorcée.  (And by "technically", I mean I am.)  At some point, it is probably prudent to do a little reality check on the validity of one's romantic platforms.

Ironically, what got me launched on this post was an article (or rather an online "book") that I began reading regarding the Theory of Intelligence.  Science and smarts -- not exactly the typical path to an emotion-centered discussion.  The gist of the article was that intelligence, or the capacity for learning and understanding, is significantly linked to our genetics.  What scientists and psychologists call the "g" factor influences heavily our potential intelligence, from brain's ability to make synaptic connections to how much actual gray matter (which has scientifically been linked to I.Q.) we possess.  And, while "intelligence" certainly encompasses what we would normally categorize as such (logical reasoning and mathematical aptitude), it also includes our more metaphysical thinking abilities (emotional and imaginative intelligence).  The almost spiritual understanding that is Love, being one of these more metaphysical abilities, would then be influenced by our genetic place on the spectrum of intelligence.  That is to say, to a certain extent, we are genetically predisposed to love to different degrees.

Admittedly, this conclusion may be a stretch in terms of bare logical progression.  But, I tend to think I might be on the right track.  Last weekend, I visited a friend in Washington, D.C.  (Confession:  It was a boy.  Duh -- why else would I be writing about it here.)  We had an interesting conversation (on a quiet Saturday night atop the roof of his absolutely precious row house in Capitol Hill with a view of the Washington Monument -- ::siiigh::) about relationships in general.  I recounted for him something my therapist had said around the time I separated from my ex-husband.  (She had been "our" therapist while we pretended that things might still work out, and I had continued seeing her for a while after just to make sure I still had my head on straight.)  Given that she had so diligently attempted to counsel us on how to stay together, I was more than a little surprised when she admitted that she really hadn't thought that we would ultimately work out.  What?  Why?  Well, she says, when you boil it down, there are two types of marriages... 

First, there is the "conventional marriage".  In the conventional marriage, two people get along well, work successfully as a team, have a functional sex life, have genuine affection for one another, and support one another fiscally, emotionally, career-wise, raising any children, etc.  Hmm, that doesn't sound so bad?  Exactly; it's the conventional marriage, the vanilla of marriages. It may be good, but it's also the one we see most often in typical models of the institution of marriage (probably because it is measurable by obvious benchmarks). 

There is, however, a second conception of marriage -- call it the "vital marriage" -- that transcends the conventional marriage.  The best way to describe it is to look at the word itself : vital (adj.) -- fundamentally concerned with life; life sustaining; associated with growth and renewal; full of vigor.  In a vital marriage there may or may not exist the benchmarks of successful conventional marriage.  But, this is irrelevant, because the success of the vital relationship is measured intangibly, by the spiritual (for lack of a better term) connection between two people.  It could be called a full metaphysical contact sport.  In this context, "spiritual" has little to do with religion and more to do with a deeper, more essential understanding among the partners.  (Yeah, the abstract-ness of this description drives me insane, too. But, somehow, I still get it.)  In a way, it is the difference between feeling empathy for another person and actually feeling his or her pain.  I see it in terms of Maslow's hierarchy of needs applied to relationships:  a conventional marriage does a great job establishing the foundational blocks -- security, commitment, affection, esteem.  But, the vital marriage aspires to the pinnacle -- self-actualization (self = the relationship).  A self-actualized relationship becomes all that it can be on all levels.  Get it yet? 

It's the getting that makes all the difference, my therapist said.  Someone (the ex, in my case) who sees marriage as and aspires to the conventional model generally lacks the ability to understand the fundamental difference between the conventional and the vital, and will ultimately get frustrated with a partner who pushes for more.  Someone (me, in my case) who "gets" the vital model is inevitably going to aspire to it and never be happy with the conventional.  Like ships passing in the night, she says, he and I were never going to feel "connected" on this level. Suddenly, all of my confusion about "what was missing" diffused.  But, I still wondered:  how is it possible for a person not to understand (and consequently desire) a vital relationship?

Answer: genetics.  The Theory of Intelligence put the pieces together for me.  We've all met those guys that are kind, cheerful, affectionate, supportive, but somehow seem to remain just a little bit disconnected (assuming you are one who "gets" the vital connection concept).  For some reason, they just don't seem to connect or understand you on a deeper level.  (This was my ex to a "T".)  According to the Theory of Intelligence, it may just be that that guy doesn't have the right "g" factor for you.  People are genetically predisposed to develop different levels of metaphysical and emotional intelligence.  And, if you're not on the same level, it can be very difficult to connect.  It's like dating a person who only watches Spongebob while you only watch Lost -- no matter how you solve it (Spongebob on Saturday, Lost on Wednesdays, dual TVs...), someone will always be sacrificing.  When it comes down to it, you're just never going to be truly compatible in that respect.  Except it isn't as trivial as television preferences.  It's more like sanity and fulfillment that you're jeopardizing.  Sorry, friends, but for me, that's a deal-breaker.

So, back to my original contemplation -- am I setting myself up for failure by insisting on a vital relationship, one that illuminates for me latent parts of myself and of the world that change my way of understanding (and allow me to reach the full potential of my metaphysical emotional intelligence)?  (Wow, that still sounds like a pretty tall order.)  The answer is no.  The only failure would be to not wait for a love like that.  And, I'd be doing a disservice to myself not to be with someone who allows (or, better, facilitates) the development of my potential intelligence on every level (and for whom I do the same).  Of course, that is not to say that anyone who seeks less is in any way wrong.  We are all simply different.  Which is why the greater message here is:  whatever it is you are looking for, whatever your concept of the perfect relationship, whatever your romantic ideal, have faith that you are not wrong for seeking it and that you are right in not settling for less.  Everyone falls somewhere on the spectrum of each type of intelligence, and there is no one "normal".  And when it comes to the question of one's ability to spiritually connect with you, if you think you deserve it, you do.  In fact, you might never feel completely yourself without it.

 A very wise friend of mine has this quote posted on his Facebook page: You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body. (C. S. Lewis)  The body must be nourished to survive, and this includes a physical connection with another person.  But, the soul must be nourished as well.  To regularly deny it the metaphysical connection it needs will kill it just as surely as a malnourished body.  Everyone's Soul has different needs, and the needs of the Soul are more closely associated with who we are than the needs of our body.  And, while we may have to wait a while to grow a romantic relationship that sustains us, remember that a meal shared with friends is always food for the soul...

Panna II
1st Avenue btw 5th and 6th Sts.

Panna II's slogan is "Where Christmas-Tree Lights Meets Chili-Pepper Lights."  No, not joking.  It's quite literal...the place is pretty much encrusted in lights of all kinds, including a rainbow disco ball that dances to an Indian birthday tune.  (It happened three times the last time I was there.)  If we're going for obvious slogans, theirs could have just as easily been Panna II: "Where You Can Come Eat Indian Food At A Table."  All joking aside, this place is great.  I searched for months for a good Indian restaurant in NYC.  And this fits the bill.  They have the biggest menu I have ever seen at an Indian place.  The food is good generally.  The naan is incredible.  And the spice tea is spectacular.  A perfect place for a small group or a date.  Loud and bright, but really fun as well.

Cellar Bar
40 West 40th St. near 5th Ave.

Having been in the situation many a time where our after-work destination is over-run with 23 and 24 year olds gloating over entry level jobs and dreaming of the day they will actually need to shave, I was excited to try this place.  An acquaintance told me that this is where some of the slightly more "mature" crowd from his office goes for happy hour.  He didn't tell me that "mature" meant 40 and over.  And ugly.  Sort of a let down.  But, the drinks were really tasty and inventive (and they ought to be, as they were pretty expensive).  And the ambiance of the place itself was kind of cool, sort of Gothic-chic.

S'Mac
East 12th St. btw 1st and 2nd Ave.
Love love love.  Comfort food at its finest.  My girls and I ducked in here one afternoon, and were treated to our own personal pan of mac and cheese decked out with our own personal choices of cheese and extras.  It was fast and fabulous.  I had cheddar and Gruyere with spiced hamburger, roasted tomatoes, and scallions.  R got a balsamic and mozz.  And L went all-American with cheddar, American, and hotdogs.  They were all very mmmmmm.  And, they can all be made with gluten-free pasta and reduced lactose cheese.  Score for the dietetically challenged.  Plus, they deliver.  Enough said.