The Other Shoreline

My husband—Adam—is a very smart person. He’s one of those people who you know is smart from first meeting him, not because he’s blathering about some such factoid but because he’s not. And that, my friends, is the tell.

Most of the time when Adam brings up a topic it’s pretty off the charts when it comes to my fully comprehending it. I mean, I’m not unusually dumb, I just think in a completely different pattern. Perhaps it’s like this: we’re both looking at the same lake but I’m on the other shoreline. Although technically we’re on the same shoreline because we’re married and get to live together, but just in one’s mind-eye, for the sake of the topic, it’s more like opposite shorelines. What I lack in quickness of learning I try to make up for in dedication to learning, therefore I attempt to listen intently and pick up on new means to broaden my mind. Adam broadens my mind a great deal.

This being said, one of the most humorous things Adam does is occasionally he will start off his thoughts by saying “Ok, this is pretty nerdy…”, as if what he normally says is something un-nerdy.

I should start some of my thoughts by saying something equally accurate, such as: “Ok, this just popped into my head and I haven’t thought it through very thoroughly yet but here it comes!…”

And that, in a nutshell, is the comparison of our approaches to conversation.

Minds really are so fascinating though, and I enjoy how different ours are. I think we round each other off in life much more because he’s on one shoreline and I’m on the other. Perhaps we’ll give our children a full-bodied perspective for the formation of their own minds. Adam’s a great teacher; I look forward to watching him teach our children someday, all those things that I wouldn’t be much help with… such as chemistry and geometry. Aaaand sports. He has to teach me and reteach me coordination of movement with every single physical activity we attempt, yet he can step up to the figurative plate of first-time experiences and knock it out of the park. It takes me so long to produce precision and power, and the learning of one sport doesn’t help in the learning of the other. I start with the little leaguers every time. He’s very patient with me though, and doesn’t act as though my failure reflects on him, which is the most auspicious quality when teaching me.

Despite the repeated baseball metaphors, we haven’t tried that one together. There are a couple sports that are filled with so much frustration and impossibility for me I don’t know if even Adam could get me out of the gutter. See: ice-skating.

In the journey of life, I think one finds oneself very blessed when they find an opposite mind with a like soul.