How do you know whether I really care?

Hello, gentle reader. I have been thinking of you very often since my last post. Even if you are new to this blog, I have been thinking of you very often.

What? You didn't know? How can you not know how fond

I am of you, how much I rely on you? How can you not know how important you are to me?

Oh. You haven't heard a peep out of me for seven weeks...and you think that means I don't care? But I do.

How do you decide which story to believe: mine or yours? How do you know whether I really care?

The answer is truly simple.

I invite you to call up whatever you know about me. If you've met me in person, how did I act? If we've spoken, what did I say to you? How did I respond to what you said to me? If we've not met, what level of compassion and human empathy did you "hear" in my written words? Did you perceive that you'd received a gift of hope and healing from me? Did you feel my care for you?


Now, if you would, imagine that you pressed a "Pause" button on me at the end of our last interaction, whether actual or virtual. You know, this button: | |

You went on with your life in all its richness: you worked; played with friends; spent time with your sweetheart, partner or children; went on vacation; kept your house clean and your fridge full; maybe coped with some stresses at home or at work; maybe lost a loved one or received some challenging news about your health.... Seven weeks fly by, don't they?

And now, I have pressed "Play." Here I am, expressing myself again. While I was "paused," a lot happened in your life. Did any of those events have anything to do with me? Did they change who I am? Seems reasonable that you could return to interaction with me assuming that I am, essentially, the same person you were with before, eh?

So, why, in the wake of a long silence between loved ones, are some of us so prone to make up painful stories of abandonment? Why do we decide that someone who once loved us well loves us no longer, simply because we've not heard from her/him for a while? Certainly, telling ourselves stories is a most human thing to do, but why these self-flagellating little tales of sorrow and assumed loss?

Well, that's another blog post for another day. The point now is to know how you decide which story to believe: mine or yours. The point now is to learn how to know whether I really care.

The easy answer is this: The same way you knew whether I cared before: observe my behavior. This time, you have a "freebie" -- you get to start with the baseline of my prior behavior. Let's say that there was a little meter that measured how much I care and you were confident that it was measuring 45 degrees of caring at our last meeting. That means you get to assume 45 again, from the moment we reconnect. Then, observe. Notice what I do and what I say. If you're with me in person, how do I act? If we speak, what do I say to you? How do I respond to what you say to me? If we interact only through this written word, what level of compassion and human empathy do you "hear" in these newly written words? Do you feel that you're receiving a gift of hope and healing?

If you continue to see me as someone who cares, the meter rises...maybe to 50, 55 or 60 on this visit. If my behavior shows you that I don't care anymore, then the meter falls...maybe to 40, 35, or 30, depending on how unsympathetic, distant or careless of your feelings I may appear to be. Either way, the good news -- for both of us -- is that you get to hold onto that new reading until we see each other again! 

Ah. "But," you say, "isn't the long silence proof that you don't care?" Well, I have to say that it's possible, if I'm going to to be honest. However, that is just one possibility on a menu of many others. Perhaps, I just
went on with my life in all its richness: I worked, played with friends, spent time with my sweetheart, went on vacation, kept my house clean and my fridge full, coped with some stresses at home or at work....

Perhaps I was really thinking about you very often, longing to find time to be with you again, and looking forward to catching up on all the events in both our lives from the time we were apart.

Maybe there is enough love, gentle reader.

Maybe love can be trusted to sustain through silences and even storms. What do you think?