loves.wedding

It is good to love, but love is difficult. For one human being to love another human being: that is perhaps the most dificult task that has been entrusted to us, the ultimate task, the final test and proof, the work for which all other work is merely preparation. That is why young people, who are beginingers in everything, are not yet capable of love; it is something they must learn. With their whole being, with all their forces, gathered around their solitary, anxious, upward-beating heart, they must learn to love. But learning time is always a long, secluded time ahead and far on into life, is solitude, a heightented and deepened kind of aloneness for the person who loves. Loving does not at first mean merging, surrendering or uniting with another person ( what would a union be for two people who are unclarified, unfinished, and still incoherent?); it is a high inducement for the individual to ripen, to become world in himself for the sake of another person; it is great, demaning claimon him, something that chooses him and calls himto vast distances. Only in this sense, as the task of working on themselves ( to hearken and to hammer day and night), may young people use the love that is given to them. Merging and surrendering and every kind of Communicali is not for them (who must still, for a long, long time, save and gather themselves), it is the ultimate, is perhaps that for which human lives as yet barely large enough.

1. Acknowledge the big and the little things.

People want to be seem. They want their actions, attitudes, feelings, aspirations, etc, to be noticed and knowledged. Become a person who notices.

2. Give thanks and appreciation.

Thank somebody for something and they are more likely to do the same thing again or to do something else you can thank them for. Why? Because being thanked feels good. Tell them you appreciate it too.

3. Give just to show appreciation for who they are.

Make a list of what you admire about your partner or another person. Now tell them you don’t have to wait for a special occasion. Surprise that special person any time.

4. Take an active it interest.

Take a real interest in the things important to your special someone. Listen to him or her and have a conversation about their hobbies, career etc. Learn something new about the topic. It will make them feel understood.

5. Do special things just for them.

Find out what that special person likes. Do they like card, flowers, foot rubs, special books or magazines? You may not like or want the same things. That’s ok. Do something or give something they like. Make them feel special.

See how many of these you can practice in one week with special people in your life and watch your relationships and intimacy grow.

The trend in everyday conversation is to use grandiose words. “Outstanding” is new “good,” “amazing” is the new “OK,” and “huge” is the new “big.”

I was in a restaurant in D.C. last weekend and everything I asked was answered in superlatives.

Me: How s the salmon?

Server: Fantastic!

Me: Does it come with rice?

Server: Absolutely!

Would a “good” and a “yes” have been sufficient? Undeniably!

At Starbucks, the smallest coffee you can order is a Tall. Tall would seem to indicate that there was also a short and medium, with Tall being the largest. But at Starbucks, Tall is small. Grande, which is both Italian and Spanish for large, is medium.

Likewise, at your local 7-Eleven you cannot buy a small: Your choices are Big Gulp, Super Gulp and Extremely Big Gulp. OldBananaNavyGap also did away with the small. You cannot buy anything from the chain stores that is really a “small.” My father is an average-sized man. He hasn t gained weight (or height, for that matter) for the past 30 years. Ergo, his size remains the same. But in the same amount of time, his T-shirt size has gone from small/medium to medium to large to extra large.

Upon reflection, the reason for all this colossal-speak is clear: We are bored with our fantastic, wonderful lives. We want the next-next thing now. Now!

And we also want others to think that we still care, that we can still be delighted, that we know that everything is just great. Even when deep inside we know it can t be. Everything can t be great. Hence, we live in a world where extreme is ordinary, where radical is quotidian; exceptional is pedestrian. And to not be overly delighted by the mundane is appalling. It s horrific. And, Dude, that s heinous.

I m not scientist, and my methods of proof leave a little to be desired, or a lot to be desired, or an immensity. An to be honest, I guess I d rather live in a world where people were overly excited than depressed.

But listen to the voices around you. Listen to your own voices. There is nothing on the news that is good or bad, only things that are wonderful or devastating. Even the weather is either beautiful or horrible.

Listen the next time when someone asks you something and you agree, because when you could simply say “yes,” instead you will say “absolutely” or “without doubt” or “Oh, yeah, unquestionably - absolutely without doubt.”

Have people forgotten what it is like to be OK? Simply OK with what they have and who they are?

If everything is outstanding, if everything is the most amazing thing ever, is anything ever amazing at all?

    Love is a telephone which always keeps silent when you are longing for a call, but rings when you are not ready for it. As a result, we often miss the sweetness from the other end.
    Love is telephone which is seldom program-controlled of directly dialed. You cannot get an immediate answer by a mere “Hello”, let alone go deep into your love’s heart by one call. Usually it has to be relayed by an operator, and you have to be patient in waiting. Destiny is the operator of this phone, who is always irresponsible and fond of playing practical jokes to which she may make you a lifelong victim intentionally or unintentionally.
    Love is a telephone which is always busy. When you are ready to devote yourself to or even ready to die for love, you only find, to your disappointment, the line is already occupied by someone else, and you are greeted only by a busy line. This is an eternal regret handed down from generation to generation and you are only one of those who languish for flowers.
    Love is a telephone which is sometimes so sensitive that you are put through by a single dial and responded to as soon as you say “Hello”. But, more often than not, you only hang it up and turn away sadly just because of its lack of challenge and effort. Once you realize your mistake, no one is available at the other end.
    Love is a telephone, but it is difficult to seize the right time for dialing, and you will let slip the opportunity if your call is either too early or too late.
    Love is a telephone which is not always associated with happiness. Honeyed words are transmitted by sound waves, but when the lovers are brought together, the phone serves no purpose. No wonder that many lovers observe that marriage is the doom of love.
    Love is a telephone, which, when you use it for the first time, makes you so nervous and excited that you either hold the receiver upside down or dial the wrong number. By the time you’ve calmed down, you will be at a loss to whom you should make the call.
    Love is a telephone which often has crossed lines. And this usually happens to you unexpectedly. Your line will either cross or be crossed. Both cases are referred to as “triangles”. Fortunately, all such occurrences are transient.

    Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proportion that all men are created equal.Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure.

    We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.But in a large sense we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract.

    The world will little note, nor long remember, what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living, rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advance. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us, -that from these honored dead we take in-creased devotion to the cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion,-that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain,-that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, -and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

有這麽一個故事:有一個參加長跑比賽的選手在經過一片沙灘時,鞋子裏灌滿了沙子,他匆匆把鞋子脫下,胡亂地把沙子倒出,便又急忙地繼續往前跑。可是有一粒沙子仍留在他的鞋裏，在他以後的路程中，那粒沙子磨著他的腳，使他跑一步，痛一步。但他並沒有停下把鞋子脫掉，抖出那粒磨自己腳的沙子，而仍是匆匆前行，在離終點不遠的地方，因腳痛難忍，他不得不止步，最後放棄了比賽。當他忍著揪心的痛把鞋脫掉時，他發現自己痛苦並放放棄比賽的竟僅僅是一粒沙子。

看來，有時阻撓我們前進的不是高山、深淵，而是極細小的一粒沙子。為了避免因一次輕微的過失遭指責，我們便編出謊言來掩蓋。於是從編造第一個謊言開始，我們便背上了兩個沉甸甸的包袱：“過失”與“謊言”。以後的日子，便常常為掩飾“過失”與“謊言”而不得不再造出新的謊言，從此自己便不得不在緊張、擔心、痛苦的歲月中熬過。那第一個謊言，就是一粒沙。

Part of being a teenager is discovering who we are. It is not something that happens overnight. We test ourselves by seeing how we respond to different situations. We try different styles and a different look until we find something that feels right for us. We test out different value systems to see which ones feel good and which ones don’t.

The thing to remember is that you are sculpting you. In order to do that, you have to make mistakes. You have to try things on for size. Many of those things will clearly be you – and many of those things won’t.

This is why some teenagers have struggles with their parents. You have to figure out for yourself what is important to you and what your values are. You may go through a period where you disregard everything your parents have taught you. But as time passes, you will see that it isn’t about accepting everything they taught you or rejecting all of it, it is about making the things you agree with your own and lovingly setting aside the things you don’t.

Just remember that when you do make discoveries about yourself, don’t shy away form them. Keep them as yours and know that each time another discovery is made you are closer to knowing yourself.

大海邊,一個漁夫張網捕魚。

突然他覺得網被什麽拽了一下。

他猛地把網繩一拉，網就收緊了，原來是一只小海龜。“雖然你很小，但是我把你拿到市場上還能賣一筆小錢呢。”

漁夫說。

“我求求你放了我，千萬不要把我賣了。”

海龜衷求道。

“放了你可以，但是你拿什麽報答我呢？”

“我會給你帶來一大群海龜，把它們拿到市場上，可以賣更多的錢。此外，我還會給你一個讓你終生受益的忠告。”

漁夫喜上眉梢。

他馬上把海龜放進了海裏，海龜一蹬腳就鑽入了大海，遊了很遠，它才把腦袋浮出水面：“你就永遠等待那一大群海龜去吧，出賣同伴的事，我才不幹呢！但是送給你的忠告我現在可以說出來：現在擁有的，遠比別人許諾的重要！”

I rush into the station, glancing up I see the time, 8:01, my train leaves at 8:04. Only four minutes to spare. I fly up the stairs, my feet barely touching the floor. Over the bridge, I see my train approaching. Down the other side, I dart past mums and dads trailing tired kids, their feet dragging. Then I see him. An old man, he stands alone at the bottom of the stairs. I catch his eyes and breath leaves me. Noise fades, a split second of infinite silence, and for that moment I know answers to questions I didn’t even know existed. Emotion rises in me, and I want to cry. He knows this but smiles. He is incredibly old but stunningly beautiful. I can’t look away and don’t want to. I go to him and he stretches out both arms, his hands glow with ethereal light. He places them on me. I feel warmth and infinite kindness pour into me. I blink back tears. He speaks, a voice clear and pure, a clarity that denies his years, “Keep my love with you.”

Instantly he finishes speaking, the noise of the station returns and the moment and all it held is passed. I look into his face and see an ordinary old man, slightly confused, wearing a shabby old coat. A woman greets him, “Hello dad, come on, let’s get home, sorry I’m late.” He smiles at me and I see in his smile a flash of the man who had spoken, then he leaves with her.

My legs can’t take my weight, adrenalin courses through me and I have to sit. My head in my hands, I watch as my train leaves without me, and I don’t care. Thirty minutes later, I catch the next connection. My mind still focuses on this unearthly encounter; I sit silently.

A few minutes into the journey, we slow to a stop. An announcement bellows to us an apology for the delay due to a problem further along the line. I feel a sudden chill and an insight; I somehow know in that moment that many lives have been lost, the earlier train, the one I would have been on, has derailed. I silently thank whoever the man was for my survival, his gift to me.