I was in a café recently and caught myself dancing and humming along to the tune playing on the overhead speaker. What was the song, you ask?
It was NOT Madonna, Gotye, Wiz Khalifa, The Wanted, or any early 90s R&B band. No, it was “Scarlet Begonias” by the Grateful Dead.
Why on God’s green earth would I be bopping along to a Grateful Dead song? Do I look like a dreadlock-sporting, unshaved, high-flying, patchouli-smelling, barefoot hippie? Not even close. (At least I hope not. No offense.)
On my first visit home after getting married and moving to
, I made the “mistake” of wearing flip flops. The feedback was not good: “What happened to you, Silva?” “You’ve changed.” “Jayson’s controlling you.” “Flip flops? Seriously?” California
Yes, flip flops. It’s 112 degrees here in the summer. My feet get hot. It’s called “adapting to your environment.” Sheesh.
So what do flip flops have to do with the Grateful Dead? Not only did I adapt to my new environment, but I adapted to my husband. I married someone with whom I share Christian beliefs, family values, and life priorities. But we are opposites in most other ways. He’s outdoorsy. I’m not. He cooks. I don’t. He likes hippie music. I like dance and R&B. He does extreme sports. I do extreme reading.
We can’t help but rub off on each other. And most of the time it’s ideal, because we expose each other to new things and bring out a side of each other we didn’t know we had.
Because of Jayson I’ve tried wakeboarding and rappelling. I’ve gone to Phish and Leftover Salmon concerts. I’ve loosened up (a tiny bit). And I’ve embraced flip flops.
It goes both ways. After 10 years of marriage I finally got Jayson to buy a pair of dark wash straight leg jeans. Yes, it took 10 years. I’ve improved his spelling. And he went to a Madonna concert with me (and liked it).
bringing out the best in each other
discovering new pieces of yourself in their light
breaking your mold
and smelling the begonias.
OK, I’m getting off my shoebox now.