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کتاب: با اطمینان می دانم که / فصل 4

با اطمینان می دانم که

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فصل 03

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Connection

Love is the essential existential fact. It is our ultimate reality and our purpose on earth.

—Marianne Williamson Talking with thousands of people over the years has shown me that theres one desire we all share We want to feel valued. Whether youre a mother in Topeka or a businesswoman in Philadelphia, each of us, at our core, longs to be loved, needed, understood, affirmed—to have intimate connections that leave us feeling more alive and human.

I once filmed a show in which I interviewed seven men of different ages and backgrounds, all of whom had one thing in common They had cheated on their wives. It was one of the most interesting, candid conversations Ive ever had, and a huge aha moment for me. I realized that the yearning to feel heard, needed, and important is so strong in all of us that we seek that validation in whatever form we can get it. For a lot of people—men and women—having an affair is an affirmation that Im really okay. One of the men I interviewed, whod been married 18 years and thought he had a moral code that would withstand flirtatious temptations, said about his mistress, There wasnt anything special about her. But she listened, was interested, and made me feel special. Thats the key, I thought—we all want to feel like we matter to somebody.

As a girl growing up shuffled between Mississippi, Nashville, and Milwaukee, I didnt feel loved. I thought I could make people approve of me by becoming an achiever. Then, in my twenties, I based my worth on whether a man would love me. I remember once even throwing a boyfriends keys down the toilet to keep him from walking out on me! I was no different from a physically abused woman. I wasnt getting slapped upside the head every night, but because my wings were clipped I couldnt soar. I had so much going for me, but without a man I thought I was nothing. Not until years later did I understand that the love and approval I craved could not be found outside myself.

What I know for sure is that a lack of intimacy is not distance from someone else it is disregard for yourself. Its true that we all need the kind of relationships that enrich and sustain us. But its also true that if youre looking for someone to heal and complete you—to shush that voice inside you that has always whispered Youre not worth anything—you are wasting your time. Why? Because if you dont already know that you have worth, theres nothing your friends, your family, or your mate can say that will completely convince you of that. The Creator has given you full responsibility for your life, and with that responsibility comes an amazing privilege—the power to give yourself the love, affection, and intimacy you may not have received as a child. You are the one best mother, father, sister, friend, cousin, and lover you will ever have.

Right now youre one choice away from seeing yourself as someone whose life has inherent significance—so choose to see it that way. You dont have to spend one more second focusing on a past deprived of the affirmation you should have gotten from your parents. Yes, you did deserve that love, but its up to you now to bestow it upon yourself and move forward. Stop waiting for your husband to say I appreciate you, your kids to tell you what a great mother you are, a man to whisk you away and marry you, or your best friend to assure you that youre worth a darn. Look inward—the loving begins with you.

The key to any relationship is communication. And Ive always thought that communication is like a dance. One person takes a step forward, the other takes a step back. Even a single misstep can land both people on the floor in a tangle of confusion. And when you find yourself in that position—with your spouse, your colleague, your friend, your child—Ive found that the best option is always to ask the other person, What do you really want here? At first, you might notice a little squirming, a lot of throat clearing, maybe some silence. But if you stay quiet long enough to get the real answer, I guarantee it will be some variation of the following I want to know that you value me. Extend a hand of connection and understanding, and offer three of the most important words any of us can ever receive I hear you. I know for sure your relationship will be the better for it.

Ive never been a social person. I know this may come as a surprise to most people, but ask anyone who knows me well, and they will confirm its true. Ive always kept my downtime for myself, plus a wee circle of friends whom I consider my extended family. Id been living in Chicago for years before I suddenly realized I could count on one hand—and still have some fingers remaining—the number of times Id visited friends or met up with someone for dinner or gone out just for fun.

Id lived in apartments since leaving my dads house. Apartments where I often didnt take the time to know the person across the hallway, let alone anyone else on my floor. We were all too busy, I told myself. But in 2004, shortly after that realization, I moved to a house—not an apartment, a house—in California, and a whole new world opened up to me. After years spent in the public eye, conversing with some of the worlds most fascinating people—I finally became social. For the first time in my adult life, I felt like I was part of a community. Just after I arrived, as I was pushing my cart down the cereal aisle at Vons, a woman I didnt know stopped me and said, Welcome to the neighborhood. We all love it here and hope you will, too. She said it with such sincerity that I wanted to weep.

In that moment, I made a conscious decision not to close the gate to my life as I had for so many years living in the city, shutting myself off to even the possibility of a new circle of friends. I now live in a neighborhood where everybody knows me and I know them.

First, Joe and Judy invited me next door for Joes homemade pizza and said it would be ready in an hour. I hesitated only a moment. I put on my flip-flops, headed over in sweatpants and zero makeup, and ended up staying the afternoon. Chattin it up at a strangers house, finding common ground, was brand-new territory for me—bordering on adventurous.

Since then, Ive had tea with the Abercrombies, who live three doors down. Been to a backyard barbecue at Bob and Marlenes … a pool party at Barry and Jelindas … had watermelon martinis at Julies … took in a rose garden gathering at Sallys. I attended a formal sit-down at Annette and Harolds with more silverware than I could manage, and a rib-cooking contest which I deserved to win but didnt at Margos. I watched the sunset and ate black-eyed peas at the Nicholsons, and attended an all-out feast under the stars with 50 neighbors at the Reitmans. I knew all but two of them by name. So, yes Ive become verrrrrry social.

And because of that, my life has a new, unexpected layer. I thought I was through making friends. But much to my surprise, Ive found myself looking forward to hanging out, laughing, connecting with and embracing others as a part of the circle. Its added new meaning to my life, a feeling of community I didnt even know I was missing.

What I know for sure is that everything happens for a reason—and the stranger who approached me in the grocery store with such feeling triggered something the possibility that I could make this new neighborhood a real home and not just a place to live. Ive always known that life is better when you share it. But I now realize it gets even sweeter when you expand the circle.

Lets face it Loves a subject thats been done and overdone, trivialized and dramatized to the point of mass delusion about what it is and isnt. Most of us cant see it because we have our own preconceived ideas about what it is its supposed to knock you off your feet and make you swoon and how it should appear in a tall, slim, witty, charming package. So if love doesnt show up wrapped in our personal fantasy, we fail to recognize it.

But this is what I know for sure Love is all around. Its possible to love and be loved, no matter where you are. Love exists in all forms. Sometimes I walk into my front yard and I can feel all my trees just vibrating love. It is always available for the asking.

Ive seen so many women myself included dazed by the idea of romance, believing theyre not complete unless they find someone to make their lives whole. When you think about it, isnt that a crazy notion? You, alone, make a whole person. And if you feel incomplete, you alone must fill all your empty, shattered spaces with love. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said, Nothing can bring you peace but yourself.

Ill never forget the time I was cleaning out a drawer and came across 12 pages that stopped me in my tracks. It was a looove letter Id written but never sent thank God to a guy I was dating. I was 29 at the time, desperate and obsessed with this man. It was 12 pages of whinin and pinin so pathetic that I didnt recognize myself. And though Ive kept my journals since age 15, I held my own burning ceremony for this testament to what I thought was love. I wanted no written record that I was ever that pitiful and disconnected from myself.

Ive seen so many women give themselves up for men who clearly didnt give two hoots about them. Ive seen so many women settle for crumbs. But now I know that a relationship built on real love feels good. It should bring you joy—not just some of the time but most of the time. It should never require losing your voice, your self-respect, or your dignity. And whether youre 25 or 65, it should involve bringing all of who you are to the table—and walking away with even more.

Romantic love is not the only love worth seeking. Ive met so many people longing to be in love with somebody, to be rescued from their daily lives and swept into romantic bliss, when all around there are children, neighbors, friends, and strangers also yearning for someone to connect with. Look around and notice—possibility is everywhere.

On the other hand, if you find it a strain to open your heart full-throttle to the Big L, start in first gear Show compassion, and before long youll feel yourself shifting to something deeper. Soon, youll be able to offer others the blessings of understanding, empathy, caring, and—I know for sure—love.

In times of crisis, Ive always marveled at the way people reach out with words of encouragement. Ive had moments of real devastation in my life—we all have—but Ive been sustained by the grace and love of friends who have asked, Is there anything I can do to help? not knowing that they already have, just by asking. People Ive known well and others Ive never met have, in tough moments, built me a bridge of support.

Ill never forget when, after a particularly difficult setback a few years ago, my friend BeBe Winans stopped by unexpectedly. Theres something I came to tell you, he said. And he started singing what he knows is my favorite spiritual I surrender all. I surrender all. All to thee, my blessed Savior, I surrender all.

I sat silently, closed my eyes, and opened myself to this gift of love and song. When he finished, I felt a release of all pressure. I was content to just be. And for the first time in weeks, I experienced pure peace.

When I opened my eyes and wiped away the tears, BeBe was beaming. He started laughing his huh, huh, huuuagh laugh, and gave me a big hug. Girl, he said, I just came to remind you, you dont have to carry this load all by yourself.

To know that people care about how youre doing when the doing isnt so good—thats what love is. I feel blessed to know this for sure.

I thought I knew a lot about friendship until I spent 11 days traveling across the country in a Chevy Impala with Gayle King. Weve been close since we were in our early twenties. Weve helped each other through tough times, vacationed together, worked on my magazine together. And still there was more to learn.

On Memorial Day 2006, we set out to see the U.S.A. in a Chevrolet. Remember that commercial from years ago? Well, I always thought it was a charming idea. When we pulled out of my driveway in California, we were singing the jingle loudly, with vibrato, cracking ourselves up. Three days in, around Holbrook, Arizona, we were mumbling the tune. And by Lamar, Colorado, five days in, wed stopped singing altogether.

The trip was grueling. Every day, six, then eight, then ten hours with nothing but road stretched ahead. When Gayle drove, she insisted on constant music I wanted silence. To be alone with my thoughts became a running joke. As she sang along boisterously, I realized there wasnt a tune she didnt know. She called almost everyone her favorite. This was as nerve-racking for me as the silence was for her when I was behind the wheel. I learned patience. And when patience wore thin, I bought earplugs. Every night, landing in a different hotel, we were exhausted but still able to laugh at ourselves. We laughed at my merging anxiety, interstate anxiety, and passing-another-vehicle anxiety. Oh, and crossing-a-bridge anxiety.

Of course, Gayle will tell you Im not a great driver. She herself is a masterly driver, taking the curves on the Pennsylvania Turnpike with ease and steadily leading us into New York. Only one glitch By the time we reached Pennsylvania, her contacts had been in too long and her eyes were tired. We approached the George Washington Bridge, relieved to end the long run of Cheetos and pork rinds from gas stations. Dusk had fallen, and night was approaching fast. Gayle said, I hate to tell you this, but I cant see.

What do you mean, you cant see? I tried to ask calmly.

All the headlights have halos. Do they have halos to you?

Uhhhh, no, they do not. Can You See the Lines on the Road? I was shouting now, envisioning the headline FRIENDS FINISH JOURNEY IN A CRASH ON GW BRIDGE. There was nowhere to pull over, and cars were speeding by.

I know this bridge very well, she said. Thats whats saving us. And I have a plan. When we get to the toll, Im going to pull over and take out my contacts and get my glasses.

The toll was a long way ahead. What can I do? I said, near panic. Do you need me to steer for you?

No, Im going to hug the white lines. Can you take out my contacts and put on my glasses? she joked. At least I think she was joking.

That would be dangerous and impossible, I said.

Then turn up the air, Im sweatin, she said.

We both sweated our way to the toll booth—and safely pulled into New York. The crew following us had T-shirts made I SURVIVED THE ROAD TRIP.

What I know for sure is that if you can survive 11 days in cramped quarters with a friend and come out laughing, your friendship is real.

The story of how my beloved dog Sadie came into my life is one for the ages At a humane shelter in Chicago, she hugged my shoulder, licked my ear, and whispered, Please take me with you. I could feel her making a bid for a new life with me.

I felt an instant connection with her. But just to be sure I wasnt caught up in a moment of overwhelming puppy love, Gayle said, Why dont you wait and see how you feel tomorrow? So I decided to wait 24 hours. The next day, Chicago had a whiteout blizzard—not a good day to bring a puppy home, I thought. Especially if you live in a high-rise. Its hard to house-train from the seventy-seventh floor even when the sun is shining—puppies need to go outside a lot when theyre first learning when and when not to go.

Nevertheless, Stedman and I donned our winter gear and used our four-wheel-drive to get across town. Just to have another look, I swore. Miss Sadie, the runt of the litter, spoke to my heart. I love making the underdog a winner.

An hour later we were at Petco, buying a crate and wee-wee pads, collar and leash, puppy food and toys.

The crate started out next to the bed. And still she cried. We moved the crate up onto the bed, right in the center, so she had a full view of me—I wanted to do anything I could to help her avoid separation anxiety on her first night away from the litter. And yet there was more whimpering and whining. Then full-blown yelping. So I took her out of the crate and let her sleep on my pillow. I know thats no way to train a dog. But I did it anyway—to the point where Sadie thought I was her littermate. By the time I woke up in the morning, she had nuzzled her way to my shoulder, which was her most comfortable sleeping position.

Five days after bringing her home, I lost track of good sense and let myself get talked into adopting her brother Ivan. For 24 hours, life was grand Ivan was Sadies playmate, and I didnt have to be. It was nice to get some relief from games of fetch and rubber squeezy bunnies.

Ivan had one full day of romping in the sun with Sadie and my two golden retrievers, Luke and Layla. Then he refused dinner. And then the diarrhea started, followed by vomiting and more diarrhea. That was on Saturday. By Monday night, we knew he had the dreaded parvovirus.

Id been through parvo 13 years before, with my brown cocker, Solomon. It nearly killed him. He stayed in the veterinary hospital for 20 days. He was more than a year old when he got it. Ivan was only 11 weeks. His young immune system wasnt strong enough to overcome it. Four days after we took Ivan to the emergency clinic, he died.

That morning, Sadie refused to eat. Even though she had tested negative before, I knew she had parvo, too.

So began the ordeal of trying to save her. Plasma transfusions. Antibiotics. Probiotics. And daily visits. I wish for every citizen of this country the kind of health care and treatment this little dog received. The first four days, she got increasingly worse. At one point I told the vet, Im prepared to let her go. She shouldnt have to fight this hard.

But fight she did. By the next day her white blood cell count started to improve, and two days later she was happily eating bits of chicken.

Shortly afterward Sadie came home, skinny and frail but ready to start life anew. She eventually recovered fully.

During the time she and Ivan spent in the hospital, I was worried and restless and got little sleep—the same as it would have been with any family member. Which is what I know for sure pets represent in our lives a connection to caring thats unconditional. And reciprocal.

Puppy love. Nothing like it.

When you make loving others the story of your life, theres never a final chapter, because the legacy continues. You lend your light to one person, and he or she shines it on another and another and another. And I know for sure that in the final analysis of our lives—when the to-do lists are no more, when the frenzy is finished, when our e-mail inboxes are empty—the only thing that will have any lasting value is whether weve loved others and whether theyve loved us.

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