Thursday, April 29, 2010

He's My Yang (Y)




Sometimes I wonder (to myself) how
my husband and I ever got together.

I was a young, innocent country girl,
and he was a seasoned hippie.

I was ready to be an artist-
a college yuppie-
a girl with the map of her life
all plotted out and
headed in the direction of her dreams.

He was cool.
Carefree.
Ready to drive off into the sunset
at the drop of a groovy hat...
with a hundred record albums,
six cans of re-fried beans,
and a bell-bottomed blue-jeaned pocket
full of change.

Face it.
We were opposite.
We were yin and yang.
We were oil and vinegar.
We were salt and pepper.
We were night and day.
Man and woman.

The Chinese define Yin as
a negative female
having the characteristics of
earth, rain, soft, evil, black,
small, even (numbers),
cold, dark, and passive power.

(Obviously a Chinese man
wrote that!)

Yang is described as:
positive male,
heaven, sunshine, hard,
good, white, large, and odd.

But the Chinese also believe that
these two principles of nature
must both exist in a perfect balance
for there to be harmony in the world.

And in the bathroom.

(Yeah. I added that part myself.)

I am not a neat freak.
But, Lordy- can you not put the lid
back on the Q-Tip jar?
Must you leave a forest of whiskers
in the sink?
Do you think I like picking up
sweaty underwear
and crusty socks?
Has your toothbrush ever found its way
back into the cute flowered holder
that sits only two inches from the faucet?

Our Yin and Yang get so out of balance sometimes
that it defies nature.

He's hot.
I'm cold.

He wants chicken.
I want fish.

He wants to watch Rambo for the
fifty-third time.
I prefer a rerun of King of Queens.

He wants to stay home
and play Xbox.
I want to go out and
see a movie.

It's a storm, I tell you!
A virtual tornado
of Yin and Yang.

The Chinese guy says we
will eventually reach "quiescence".
That the waves will recede
and all will be calm once more.
That every rise will fall.
Every jagged edge will become smooth.

And it probably will...

I'll continue being Yin.
The country girl with
dried up oil paints,
no college degree-
and some wrinkled old map
that really never led the way.

And he will forever be my Yang.
An old hippie in Carhartt work jeans
with a pocket of change-
headed off to work.

Crazy thing about this Yin and Yang thing...
it's worked for us.

And how can you deny nature
when it feels so perfect?