Thursday, May 28, 2009

What 'completes' me

I recently watched Jerry Maguire. I hadn’t seen it in years, and it’s kind of the last time Tom Cruise wasn’t creepy. Besides, my husband was out of town – the kids were in bed and I had poured myself a bowl of cereal for dinner – a chick flick was definitely in order. As for the movie, let’s face it - we’re all sitting through the whole thing just to hear Tom tell Renee, “you complete me.”

I’ve been thinking a lot about this notion of completeness. It may be a male idea altogether. A woman who doesn’t think she has something to improve upon is a rare commodity. I did have a close friend who one day declared herself ‘state of the art.’ Many hours on the therapist’s couch and hundreds of miles on her running shoes, not to mention checking off many of her life’s goals had preceded this – and my dear friend was a truly remarkable woman. I think I was so struck by her declaring herself ‘complete’ because it’s something I can’t actually imagine.

I am in a constant state of self-improvement – or at least trying. You may be familiar with the internal refrain, “I should lose 10 pounds/volunteer more/see my friends more often/make more money/be a better mother, wife, friend/etc. etc.” One of my favourites is that I think I should give blood. I really do want to give blood. I know there is a need for my blood. So what’s the problem? Well, it may have something to do with two kids in kindergarten, a business, a house, husband, extended family, friends – not to mention all the other new projects I am working on. So I don’t give blood YET, but it’s a handy thing to feel incomplete about in the meantime.

I once asked my (older and wiser) brother when he thought we got to be ‘complete.’ He answered, ‘if you’re lucky, about 3 minutes before you die.’ Perhaps he’s right. Maybe the point is the journey towards completion rather than actually attaining it. Jerry Maguire was lucky – all he needed was his wife! I’d ponder this more, but I’ve got a whole pile of ‘shoulds’ to get to before the kids get home.


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