Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Grateful for a certain type

There is a certain type of person that I'm really attracted to.

If it is a woman- she is nice looking, smart, has a generous smile, maybe glasses, maybe just pleasant eyes. She's natural and somewhat fit without being an all-out sports enthusiast. No serious make up, no serious clothes, but a lovely real look. If she has kids, she's relaxed with them, attentive, but not helicoptering. If she doesn't, she might be more of a flirt, more fun, but never lost in that persona of pleasing others. She has a good sense of humor- part real fun, small part irony. She's compassionate and grounded, a doer and a thinker. That's who I aspire to be too.

If it's a man, he's a little gruff, a little tough, he might have an accent- Eastern European, Latino, Israeli. He's handy - he can fix things, and he's strong. He laughs generously, and there's some fundamental wisdom there- seeing life just as it is, no illusions, but no taking it for granted either. If he's a Dad, he's a really good one. He can cook and take care of a house - though it's a competency and not a passion- and he has a sweet and gentle side with kids, whom he can juggle with humor and responsibility. He is pensive and directive in good measure, tolerant and slightly impatient too.

Man or woman, he is a thinking type, reflecting on lived experience and abstracting ideas that help to radar in on reality more clearly. She is moral- not in strictly religious terms or according to outside precepts, but in the sense of being true to oneself, and trusting that "oneself" is a decent being, a social animal that prospers when others do as well. Both types are accomplished- getting things done and caring about doing meaningful things.

I've met some wonderful people who have built out this type for me. Not a few of them are Israeli or Jews imported from elsewhere, and I don't doubt that this is a character derived from those seminal experiences from childhood and through my career in the Jewish world. But some are Palestinians, Germans, Argentines, Albanians, French, Nigerians... Even Americans! When I was young I noticed that a disproportionate percentage of my friends had parents from elsewhere...

What creates the type? Is it a combination of secure upbringing and inherited loss that grounds- that creates compassion and realism together? So different from the entitlement of perfect security, and equally far from the existential fear of those who have suffered tremendously themselves.


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