By Bill Giduz, editor Davidson, NC

 

On Day 22 of my marriage to Ellen, I once again toil late into the evening putting the final words onto the pages of this Newsletter while she does her thing at home alone. New to the insti­tution and wanting to excel in it, I wonder if all this extracurricular time will hurt my chance of success. Though she can cascade three balls, her enthu­siasm for juggling seems to begin and end with me. Will her toleration dwindle?

To quell the demons of guilt in my head and build strength for the final editorial push ahead, I look to the wisdom of a more experienced married man, Lloyd Timberlake, a correspondent from London. Extracting from the files a letter Lloyd wrote on Valentines Day, I read:

"Married??? Well, as I told a kid yesterday about juggling six balls, I've tried it and I think it is theoretically possible.

"Like juggling, marriage has its enjoyable mo­ments, but a lot ofit is frantic activity, during which those involved have no clear idea why they are expending so much energy on such an apparently pointless pursuit.

"A good marriage, like good juggling, requires a peculiar combination of a relaxed stance and an engaged mind. Worry about it too much and you spoil it. Try too hard and it won't work. Tense up and you lose the rhythm.

"Marriages, like juggling moves, are based on a good grounding in simple fundamental pat­terns; the fancier flourishes growing naturally from these. (There are, of course, differences. Juggling, unlike marriage, is a cheap sport requiring only a few simple props.)

"Most important, though: in marriage, as in juggling, when the whole thing crashes to the ground, take a deep breath, relax, and get it going again. Practice is the key."