Should relationships require "work"?

When visiting my family this past summer, I spent an afternoon with my ex. After a few not-so-friendly years, we have reached a point where we are friendly and respectful. He had recently located some of my possessions and we used the exchange as an excuse to meet for lunch. Upon his acceptance of our break-up being final, he engaged in another relationship within a matter of weeks. Within a few weeks of meeting, they were exclusive. And in less than three months, they had moved in together. While they had experienced their share of not-so-private problems throughout their relationship (he has a large, loud family that still interacts with mine), they had recently purchased a house together and now, at lunch, he told me that they planned to get married before the end of the year. Their wedding date would be nearly five months shy of their two year anniversary. While the reader may make a variety of assumptions about the timeframe of their relationship and subsequent quick engagement, I believe the most interesting part is the effort they appear to be contributing in trying to make the relationship “work”. He told stories of angry fights, packing bags and deeming it was “over” on more than one occasion. He told of tearful reunions and promises of change. And, he told of regular visits to a couples’ therapist, beginning only a few months into the relationship. My immediate and not-so-silent reaction was that the relationship appeared to be requiring far too much effort at such an early point. In addition, was something on such unstable ground truly sustainable???

As a lover of flowers, I like to think of a relationship as a flower seed: a seed gets planted in the soil and this is the equivalent to meeting someone new and having those first few dates… at that point, it’s established that there is an attraction, likely on a few different levels: intellectual, physical and perhaps even emotional or spiritual. It is at this point that, if both parties are interested, that the seed begins to sprout. A few tiny sprouts that, if cultivated successfully, have the potential to grow into a solid, robust plant. In a new relationship, that nurturing can be as fundamental as planning fun activities to do together… or maybe a thoughtful “surprise” text or phone call … it may be seeing a movie or trying a restaurant that the other person can’t wait to see or visit…it may be less tangible like a quick affectionate touch, feeding the person a bite of food or simply seeking to understand his/her unique perspective on the world. It is the combination of this stuff that serves as the water, food and sunshine fostering the seed to push above ground and eventually, with care and attention, to possibly turn into a beautiful flowering plant. And even as the seed grows, inching above the soil, demonstrating some strength and potential for longevity, the growing plant still must be thoughtfully cared for… in fact, it is especially at this delicate stage that the seed requires consideration. If left unattended – without a delicate and regular combination of water, food and sunshine – it can simply give out unexpectedly leaving us to wonder what went wrong and whether there is any hope for revival.

The question is this though: at what point does the cultivation become too much “work”?? Where do we draw the line and acknowledge that the seed is simply requiring too much from us?


Honey and Lemon: I suspect that sometimes we want things to come to us a bit too easy. But, I also suspect that when we mistake “easy” for meaning that no effort or energy is required, we may miss out on an amazing garden that simply takes some time and patience to cultivate. I think the “honey” is the experience and insight to recognize the potential for a truly amazing flower blossom. In contrast, I think the toughest part is to recognize when a relationship begins (early on or even months or years into it) to require nurturing to the point that it takes away from the water, food and sunshine needed to sustain oneself. It is at this point, that we also must be honest and true in recognizing when the plant is simply unsustainable for perhaps more than a season or two (hmmm, is that an annual or perennial plant?? I don’t know but I think you get what I mean!).