While we get stuck and stagnant in routine, there is a sense of “home” in tradition. The similarity is repetition, the difference is detected in the heart.
In a relationship, routine encourages zombie-like behavior, while traditions connect you one level deeper – they build memories and nostalgia at “your places”.
He and I don’t even glance at the menu. We already know what we want. He orders the chicken pasta with extra chicken and I order the chilled salmon salad. More wheat bread, please. One of us just got killed training legs…at the other’s mercy. And, that’s another tradition. He trains me on his day off. Training is always pretty intense. Sometimes, I don’t really like him…I REALLY don’t. At first, he thought I was angry with him, but it’s in me…I can feel my mind and body resist the intensity. That’s not a pleasant feeling. Vulnerability and weakness are not my strong suit. But, in order to build strength, I have to get to my breaking point and…move beyond it. I need someone to accompany me so I feel safe and confident. That’s the beauty of a relationship. So, when I honestly don’t think I can make it through the set, I feel his hand on my lower back and his words of encouragement reassuring me…I can do this…and “baby, bread & wine await.” Hallelujah!
To solidify the tradition today, he snuck off and bought me this: