October 1999

I once had a boyfriend who had a very different idea of what it meant to be a part of a couple. For example, he couldn’t understand how, six months into the relationship, I could be going off to visit a good friend for the July 4th long weekend in San Francisco – a 6-hour flight away.

For the week leading up to the trip, he tried every way to persuade me to see it from his point of view. Finally, on the eve of the flight, as I packed the suitcases, he implied that perhaps there would be lots more room in the closet when I came back. I went off with a heavy heart.

The day after I arrived, I received a call from him. In a gentle voice he told me how my leaving had hurt him. He explained that his idea of a relationship was that the two people would be inseparable. After a sleepless night, he realized that he was wrong to try to force his views on me. He apologized.

We were to have a stormy relationship that eventually ended quite badly (and guess over which issue). But that day standing in my friend’s hallway, holding the phone to my ear, I experienced one of those rare moments when you knew something important was transpiring. It was as if time itself stood still. The very air around me seemed to have been held in a gasp. I remembered thinking; this is what it means to be bigger than who you are. I had an impression that his soul expanded beyond his being, that who he was as a person was somehow more than his personality. He held on to his belief, but at that moment, he expanded it to include mine.

I recognize now that what I witnessed was a simple act of trust on his part. He had accepted another person’s ways – without condition. To receive such a gift of faith felt so good that I promised myself to do the same whenever I could. It was a promise I was to break many times since. But each time I managed to keep it, extraordinary things would happen.

Disagreements seemed to magically disappear whenever I could step outside of my own preconceived notions to welcome another’s. People who were known to be rigid and opinionated seemed to become open-minded and accepting when I could extend the same. The reverse was also true. Those times when I reacted angrily solicited similar responses. It felt like I had a magic wand because getting agreements seemed so easy and direct.

I even began to dispense advice. A long-time friend was faced with a crisis. Not a religious person, he never thought of having a church wedding. For his fiancée however, it was her life-long dream. As they began to plan the day, forgotten relatives emerged to express indignant outrage at his church plans. He wavered – was his life-partner making an impossible demand? And if he gave in on this one, how would he fare in other disputes to come?

“Not many people are given such a chance to make someone’s dream come true. And so easily done. My husband-to-be would have to give me the moon.” I said to him.

“But Kathleen, I’d be more comfortable in a space suit than a tux.” He moaned. In the end, he married in proper church style, complete with a Mass. And so I waved my magic wand some more.

Then one day, the spell broke.

I had a boss that required every communication be done in writing. So I used my magic wand to become an expert memo writer: outline format, bullet points, and keep everything to one page. But instead of the usual softening, he became even more demanding. One day he threw a memo back at me that had a misspelled word.

The downward spiral gathered momentum. Every idea seemed to pale in his critical glare. My self-confident speech gave way to a stuttering mumble under his interrogation. I began to dilute my responses and clothe my suggestions in business jargon. The memos continued to fly. I used spell check but there were other errors.

Eventually I left the job. But my faith in magic was shaken to its core. I came to see that there are some people with whom you can be inspired to create and become larger than who you are. Then there are those with whom you become smaller, no matter what you do. I’m sure I have been both to friends and co-workers. I just hope there’s still time for me to tip the scales in favor of bigger. MISSING TEXT

I have a map showing the hidden location of the magic wand maker. I’m going in search of another wand because I know there is an endless supply. If I fail, I will be eaten by the disapproving troll.

Whatever happens – I’m still an expert memo writer.