Something in the way she moves me
George Harrison teaches a lesson in romantic mindfulness.
That smile.
My only real memory of the last time I saw her more than 20 years earlier was there on her face as she crossed 10th Avenue and approached me on the street corner where I was waiting.
We had been workplace acquaintances then, though we literally had no knowledge of each other’s lives outside the office. Eventually, family and work took us in separate directions, and we totally lost track of each other.
Still, the one thing I distinctly remembered was her smile. It lit up rooms. And those blue eyes.
Our “date” (we actually called it “a meeting” to intentionally keep things casual) arose only because of a twist of social media fate that had reconnected us a few months earlier.
That stroke of luck led to a couple of long, late-evening phone calls. Eventually, we decided it was time to meet in person. We chose a walk on the High Line, an elevated railbed on the west side of Manhattan that has been gloriously converted into a linear park. It winds south from around 30th Street and 10th Avenue, to Gansevoort Street in the old Meatpacking District.
There was no agenda for our “meeting,” other than to go for a stroll, grab a cannoli in the West Village, and walk around Washington Square Park.
I will never forget the moment I felt a stirring inside me that said, “there is something special about this woman.” We were in a small bookstore on the corner of 11th Street and Bleecker. Neither one of us was looking for anything in particular. We were perusing the shelves and tabletops, lingering over whatever caught our eye.
Watching her, I was captivated by how this woman floated through the shop, stopping at certain books, and opening the cover to leaf through the pages. I cannot explain why I felt what I felt, or what it is I actually felt. All I know is that I heard in my head the lyrics of George Harrison’s Beatles’ song, “Something.”
To be clear: I’m not a “love at first sight” kind of guy. Never have been. And I was not feeling “love” per se in that moment. THIS was something bigger than THAT. It was an appreciation of who this person appeared to be by simply observing her.
🔬 Glimpsing the unknowable
Feelings of fondness followed with each succeeding date. Fondness – not love. Work and my kids were still my primary thoughts most hours and days during those first few months.
I know how approaching a new relationship practically and mindfully is NOT easy. The mind is a deep mystery, and in many ways, even our own thoughts and feelings are “unknowable.” I also am very aware of how a new relationship can generate surges of brain chemicals that can lead a man to confuse fondness with love.
Prior to that “meeting” I was not looking for a relationship. In fact, I had committed to remaining happily single that year and was not expecting to date until the following year. I had work to accomplish when she showed up, gliding through that bookstore.
What I try to do in my mindfulness practice is look at the behaviors of others as an indication of what is “real.” In budding relationships, this helps me avoid two potential emotional traps:
Over-intellectualizing my feelings: Asking myself: “Is this logical?” “Does this make sense on paper?” That’s kind of crazy stuff. Being too inside your head rarely helps you think more clearly, and very likely prevents you from being “in the moment.”
Getting hijacked by the rush: “She’s everything! I’d do anything!” When I was very young, I made some unwise partner choices because I was hijacked by inexperience and immaturity.
🧠🔍 What’s in my mindful love toolbox
I have talked about how important Jon Kabat-Zinn has been to my mindfulness and meditation practice, and my life. Originally, I studied Kabat-Zinn and his mindfulness-based stress reduction (MBSR) practice to help reduce my feelings of anxiety in a marriage that was falling apart.
The central lesson of MBSR is to pause before reacting. In stressful situations, I try to take deep breaths, focus on the moment, and not fall into a vortex of emotions the immediate situation does not require. I try – with a capital “T.”
MSBR can also be applied during the early rush of romance. It trains the mind to observe sensations and thoughts without judgment, giving space between feeling something and acting on it. For me, that space is where I gain clarity and deeper self-trust.
MBSR doesn’t dull my excitement from being attracted to a woman. Instead, it sharpens my awareness of what that attraction means by helping me be present to complexity.
Mindfulness teaches me to:
Observe the emotion without judgment: “I feel deeply moved by her presence. Let me sit with that.”
Notice the trajectory of what I am feeling: “Is the connection growing because we are both seeing each other for who we are – or am I fueled by fantasy and projection?”
Stay grounded in the body: Rather than just chasing thoughts, I try to notice my breath, heart rate. “Is this feeling expansive or anxious?”
Check my intention: “What am I longing for right now? Am I seeking union, healing, physical gratification, escape? And what am I capable of giving to her?”
📝 When "Something" is “Really Something”
This process of being present is what I hear when I listen to Harrison’s “Something” (one of the most-covered Beatles songs ever, resonating with a variety of male artists, from Julio Iglesias to Frank Sinatra).
An elusive something clearly has a pull on men. We often find ourselves experiencing an unnameable pull, a sense that we are in the presence of something more profound than infatuation.
“Something in the way she moves
Attracts me like no other lover”
I don’t typically offer relationship advice to anyone. Every one of us is so unique in how we perceive potential partners, what we know and do not know about ourselves, and how all of this contributes to the initial stages of romance.
It's a fool's errand to think I can offer someone else clarity about something as complex as two people trying to figure each other out. When pressed, I tell them about my practice:
Be in the now.
Be present to her.
Observe her with as much objectivity as you can muster.
If what you are experiencing is pleasing, try to simply enjoy what she does and how her presence makes you feel.
And…
Tell her what you feel, with no expectations other than the opportunity to share your thoughts.
After the bookstore, there were succeeding moments together when that stirring reoccurred, this quiet voice telling me, “This woman is special.”
It was strange to experience this real-time. I would be preoccupied with something other than her, and then she would float through my peripheral vision. I would stop what I was doing to watch her, make a mental note of what she was doing and my feelings, release it all and get back to what she had interrupted.
What I kept telling myself, and eventually told her, was how these observations had become commonplace. I told her that regardless of the emotions stirring inside me, she was an extremely special person, and I was growing increasingly fond of her.
Was it love? I didn’t think it was.
Could it lead to love? Certainly. And it eventually did. Fondness presents that risk.
In that moment, all I wanted to do was tell her that I felt she possessed something uniquely extraordinary, and carried it everywhere she went.
By being mindful, I could tell her all of these things matter-of-factly, without the need for her to reciprocate – ever, if that would be the case.
This is what I hear Harrison saying in his lyrics:
You're asking me will my love grow
I don't know, I don't know
You stick around now it may show
I don't know, I don't know
There is something extremely special about the impact mindfulness can have on a man feeling those first pangs of fondness for a woman.
You know… I believe and how.
Something in your description of how this love unfolded reads like someone who knows his boundaries. I could certainly make a case for your internal boundary management. That much seems clear. You stayed with each moment as it unfolded, resisting the story from taking over as much as one can. (That's a lot to ask of any of us. Stories are compelling. Stories are our everything.)
I mention this because so many of the men I talk to drop their boundaries when they meet a woman, especially once they notice they're being pulled into her orbit. This inadvertently sends mixed signals about who they are, what matters to them, and they eventually have to decide when and how to pull back. Many don't. Their relationships suffer.
I think we're often so desperate to feel loved, compromising our boundaries feels like a wise move in the heat of a burbling romance. I commend your level of presence.
About 40 years ago around now, I met my wife for the first time. By the end of the third date, I wanted to marry her. But I could not tell her that, for fear of scaring her away. So I had to bide my time and let things grow.
We are still married.
There is nothing logical or rational about love. You meet a total stranger and want to spend the rest of your life with them. It makes no sense. Yet here we are.