37

Solitude On Marriage and Love

I hold this to be the highest task of a bond between two people: that each should stand guard over the solitude of the other. For, if it lies in the nature of indifference and of the crowd to recognize no solitude, then love and friendship are there for the purpose of continually providing the opportunity for solitude.

-- Rainer Maria Rilke

I'm afraid some (many?) would find this observation not only odd, but equally not understandable.  

But for me today, on our 37th wedding anniversary today, it rings largely true — both in concept and in experience.  How solitude, in this context, occurs could perhaps best be described in this way:

“One of the most memorable accounts of a long successful marriage comes from Dostoevsky’s wife, Anna. She and Fyodor were, she said, of contrasting character…different temperaments. Entirely opposing views. Yet they never tried to change one another. Nor interfere with the other’s soul. This, she believed, enabled her and her husband to live in harmony.”

-- John Major, The Crown

“In truth, my husband and I were persons of ‘quite different construction, different bent, completely dissimilar views.’ But we always remained ourselves, in no way echoing nor currying favor with one another, neither of us trying to meddle with the other’s soul, neither I with his psyche nor he with mine. And in this way my good husband and I, both of us, felt ourselves free in spirit.”

-- Anna Dostoevsky

It is a kind of profound respect to let another person truly be...themselves.  This is especially true when that looks quite different than what you might expect...or want.  But, ultimately, to not do that cannot really be as much about love, as it is about demand and control.

The notion of interference in another person's soul is quite something to recognize and contemplate, if not accept as something unbeguiling and distrustful.  It places you in an unfortunate position, if not a harmful one.

I have to admit this took me a while to discover, not to mention overcome (though I still wouldn't claim to be very good at it). Perhaps this is why it is by my 37th anniversary this would be something I would be able to more fully embrace than at a much earlier point in our marriage.

I’m guessing that some of the hackles of my particular spiritual tradition would likely be rising at this notion (non-interference), especially when it comes to its definitions of marriage roles — we tend to believe that we need to have an active (intrusive?) role in our spouses lives.  I'm not claiming there should be no activity; the admonishments of sacred texts, like 1 Corinthians 13, hardly seem inactive.

But, too often it seems those deeper truths about the nature of love have somehow gotten transmuted to a kind of hyper-orchestration of the other person's being, often disguised by what turns out to be not much more than spiritualized ego-based control-structures.  Harmony can too often become code for agreement, if not compliance.  And, that seems quite distant from the true ideals of love and freedom.

Deep and abiding trust — in the other person and in the Holy Spirit — are the deeper commitments that allow for the kind of respect that doesn't necessitate 'interference' (especially as the norm).

After all, solitude can do amazing work all by itself, especially when it is unmitigated by the oft self-interest of outside parties.  In other words, it provides way more opportunity for anything that could be changed than meddling in another person's psyche.  For solitude can often be a powerful pathway to all kinds of self-understanding and discovery.

And, in that sense, standing guard over such a thing seems like quite the way to help free another person.  God knows we have enough already; more freedom — and space to pursue it — seems pretty close to one of the higher ways we can love in a marriage.

I'm especially grateful today for some of the ways Tami and I have learned how to do this...together.