Proverbial Woman, Chapter 2, Part 2

“And then you suddenly start analyzing everything about your relationship with this person. And all your conclusions keep returning to a place of affirmation. And in your heart and soul you know this is it.

All of life’s circumstances rise and fall as a result of what the two of you have. You know what I mean? Your children, and their lives are reflections of what the two of you have become. You see yourselves in them. Their lifestyles…the people they love, and how they are loved by others.

And right at such time in you feel a spiritual connection like nothing on this earth. The emotions that you possess are tied to everything, especially the love that is shared between the two of you. And yet, you find yourself concentrating on nothing but the intimacy of it all.
What I’m trying to say is that intimacy is not a prelude to lovemaking. Nor a gesture of romanticism, it is a state of mind that affirms the love that an individual possess in their heart. Am I making sense?’” he asked.

“Definitely.” I replied, while trying not to appear totally swept away.

“What type of individual would you consider to be your ideal woman?”

“My ideal woman…” he repeated, after a lasting moment of thought.

“Why do you keep revisiting these type of questions?” he injected.

“Answer it. Please…” I insisted, in calmly manner.

“Hmmm…my ideal woman. I would say she would have to be someone who is spiritually grounded, who is capable of engaging the rhythm of my heart. An angel of light that walks a path of greatness, even if they are sometimes misinterpreted steps. Which for the most part, would almost certainly result in her possessing a sense of humbleness. Which is definitely found in a caring heart, that I’m almost sure would be apparent around people of need. Particularly children, and the aging.”

“So, I guess she would be the one you would perfect your skills on?”

“No beautiful, there is not one thing that I would do out of love that I would consider perfecting. In all my pursuits I passionately give of myself in a manner befitting of the man I am. And I would expect nothing less of a woman who knows herself.

That alone, and the way I respond should make her feel affirming. With that said, above all things I would expect her to be true to her heart, no matter how she defines herself. As a matter of fact, the qualities I would look for are of the same that I’ve come to notice in you. What you possess is of a rare treasure. Priceless in today’s world.”

“That is a nice thing to say. Not that you completely know me. But lets just say I am a loving person, with the possible exception of being virtuous. Is that workable?”

“Yes. And no.” he replied.

“Why is that? Wouldn’t you call a single mother working and taking care of her own while living a morally stable life, virtuous?”

“Yes. It is possible that she can be virtuous. But to be of virtue is to be of certain qualities. There are things about these types of women that are beyond our intellectual grasp.”

“And what do you mean by that?” I asked.

“Their faith, to start…that is in God. The source of strength which flows from the power of His love, an unconditional kind.” he added, in a whispering tone.

“Go ahead. I’m listening.” I calmly injected.

By now an unceasing gaze had settled in his eyes. Tempted by silence holding unwavering under the lure of the moment, slowly he began to indulge me in his poetic truth. As he opened up with the sincerity of a loving heart attempting at lessening a misunderstanding, I quietly found myself searching out the depth of his soul in the tenderness of his eyes.

Momentarily turning away as he placed the rose back in the vase along with the others, he tenderly returned his eyes upon me. In an angel-like stare he proceeded to explain the weighted contents of his thoughts.

“Sometimes it is the pain and suffering a woman endures that can lead her into a spiritual state of love. It is in the wake of her adversities grace manifests itself. Instructing her heart on how to grow, and how to continue to give to others without the burden of resentment, or the desire of restitution, that sometimes comes in the form of redemption.

It is that type of love that cast off a proverbial aura, one reflecting an air of contentment. That is what makes her beautiful and virtuous. Much like this rose…” he added, as he pulled another from the vase.

“Whenever I come across one of these that is what I see, beauty...defined by virtue. Notice how its radiant glow reflects a spiritual aura.” He implied as he held it before me. “It reminds me of hope emanating in the eyes of someone held captive in the midst of life uncertainties.

That reminds me of something I read some time ago that Gerhard Richter once said… ‘Art is the highest form of hope.’ For a long time that statement lingered in my mind. There were times when I would be doing something, and out of nowhere it would just pop up. After countless reflections of consideration, based on his photos I started thinking he was referring to the art of capturing human situations with still images of life.

But then as my perspective started to change, I found myself beginning to think he was speaking of the beauty that is found in our fallibility. But then I thought, ‘maybe he is amplifying a need that we should recognize based upon our deteriorating state of emotional consciousness.’

And then all of a sudden, in a spiritual sense, it hit me.
It is the emotional connection we bridge between others and ourselves by way of expression that is of a source that comes from God. As beautiful as life can be, we oftentimes lose sight of the significance behind its beauty.

Whenever time allows me the opportunity, I would go and find a place with lots of flowers. I would just sit and reflect on the many different forms and colors. No matter how distinctive in beauty they are, their resemblance is always of an insurmountable simplicity that is reflected in the essence of their being. There are many things and situations around us that lend themselves to that aspect of life.

Though we fail to understand that there is a value to be perceived in regard to ones version of truth, there are lessons to be interpreted in one form or the other when it comes to the imitating of art. Even in the manner of flowers.

But we on the other hand, we try to hide the truth of our lives as if its something the world would surely expose in all of its nakedness. Even in this day of vulgarity and shamelessness, we still deny ourselves those same indignities that these beautiful roses display with a literal sense of dying affection. It is all vanity, to say the least.

But nevertheless, they bear that same burden of hope that dwells within us.