Lost somewhere in my house is a Ziploc bag of diamonds and emeralds. Yes, real ones, mined from older jewelry and meant for future projects. Not a fortune, to be sure, but a few hundred dollars’ worth. Perhaps one day they will resurface, as things tend to do around here: “Oh, that’s where they were, all this time.” Still, they are a treasure that I long for.
What have you lost of value? I’m going to report on something I lost once but found–love, in a word. I have only been inside my own marriage, no one else’s. I wonder, however, if you still have a sense of passion. Ours declined, a daily lessening until it was no longer expected. Those “pecks” like chickens, more or less.
It was recovered with a kiss. I can give the day and even the hour when it happened, but just trust me: it was real. The reason would be speculation, but I believe it was a spiritual experience for one of us, shared with the other. I’d felt the same years earlier, shared it, but at the time, it didn’t take. This time it did.
Words fail sometimes, in the reality of experience. I won’t try to use any of them to describe the beauty, the height, depth and breadth of the moment. It’s where it belongs, in my heart. You can plan it, however, perhaps like this, to your beloved (who may not seem so terribly beloved just this minute): “Hey, this person I know says that we need to consider getting some passion back in our relationship. She says the key is a kiss, a real one, full of the passion from days gone by.” That’s all really. The awkwardness surrounding such a suggestion may mean you wait for that initial discussion to pass. Find the right moment. Don’t worry about giving a report. If you are happier, I’ll be glad.
A few kiss links for today: Gustav Klimt’s famous painting, a rather gilded kiss, with the lovers’ clothing richly colored and decorated with gold, silver, and platinum. I rather prefer Francesco Hayez’s older painting for its gorgeous blue satin and the man’s hand upon the woman’s cheek. Here we have Rodin’s sculpture, also famous and as passionate as marble can be perhaps. This nice collection includes some other favorite artists. To get you in the mood.
For the musicians: Schubert’s lied “Gretchen am Spinnrade” as sung by the great New Zealander Kiri Te Kanawa. Our Gretchen sits at a spinning wheel longing for her lover. She can work for effectively until she remembers his kiss. Then she—and the wheel’s spin—must pause until she hesitatingly begins again. That’s passion, people. Schubert was just shy of 18 when he wrote this song. Amazing.
But for Gretchen and Rodin’s lovers, loss is the real topic. You, however, can find and renew what may be missing. If my jewels turn up, it will be accidental. You, dear friends, can be intentional.