Monday, we celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary.
And after 35 years, apparently, we’re still learning how to love each other.
We just returned from five fabulous days in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area in northern Minnesota with our youngest son and his new girlfriend.
The Boundary Waters has always been a special place for us. There is something about the call of the loons, the smell of the pines, slipping into the cool lake first thing in the morning, and then warming ourselves on the big flat rocks in the sun. The beauty and majesty of this place touches something deep in me. Nowhere do I feel more connected to Spirit.
Thomas and I also have a long history there. We met in the Boundary Waters more than 40 years ago.
Watching our son and his girlfriend together brought back memories of that New Relationship Energy (NRE)—the excitement, the lightness, and all the discovery of getting to know someone new.
Thirty-five years of marriage brings something different: history, familiarity, deep trust, knowing each other’s quirks—and plenty of opportunities to keep growing.
Including how to stack firewood.
At one point during our trip, I corrected the way Thomas was stacking the wood. It was a small thing. But later, he told me that he felt as though what I wanted done was more important than how I was treating him.
Ouch.
Then I heard our son being wonderfully helpful to his girlfriend—offering instructions and suggestions. And then a few more suggestions. I could hear it beginning to teeter toward overcorrecting.
Ugh. It was pretty clear where he learned that.
I’ve been thinking about this ever since.
What is more important: getting something done the way I think it should be done, or making sure the person I love knows how much I value them?
Of course, there are times to speak up, make requests, disagree, and offer another way. But I’m paying closer attention to the weight of my words, my tone, and whether being “right” inadvertently communicates that the task matters more than Thomas does.
I want appreciation to be louder than correction.
Longevity isn’t a guarantee of happiness. Thirty-five years together doesn’t mean we’ve mastered relationship.
What we have gained is a deep foundation of respect, familiarity, and trust—and a commitment to keep finding our way back to love.
The excitement of NRE changes. Something else can grow in its place: the intimacy of knowing someone deeply and still being curious about them. The humility to recognize our patterns. The willingness to apologize, learn, laugh at ourselves, and choose each other again.
Perhaps that is part of the art of loving.
The Art of Loving
The timing feels especially meaningful because this Friday we begin our final LovePassionately weekend retreat of the year: The Art of Loving: An Introduction to SkyDancing Tantra.
About 15 years ago, around our 20th anniversary, Thomas and I attended a similar introductory SkyDancing Tantra workshop. We couldn’t have known where that weekend would lead us.
It became the beginning of an extraordinary new chapter in our relationship—and eventually brought us here, sharing this work with others.
The Art of Loving explores much more than romantic love. It’s an opportunity to deepen intimate communication, listen to the wisdom of the body, open the heart, explore sacredness and vitality, and discover new ways of giving and receiving love.
Whether you’re solo or partnered, the practice begins with you.
Because after 35 years, we’re increasingly convinced that loving well isn’t something we finally accomplish.
It’s something we keep practicing.
With love,
Sara & SatchiJo
