Recognition at First Sight
Ya'Acov and I met almost exactly 40 years ago.
It wasn't love at first sight. It was recognition at first sight.
We both had a very strong feeling as we looked at each other, through the roses of the rosebush in the garden of the squat I was living in, in Stoke Newington, London, in June 1986. Ya'Acov was at a non-violent direct action peace movement meeting, and I was revising for my anthropology finals and had come out for a breather. And we met.
Later that evening, when we hugged goodbye, my whole being registered a deep click, like, "Oh, this is it, this is him."
A few weeks before, I had prayed for the one, the partner, the man with whom I could be all of me, and be supported to be all of me, to grow into all of me, whilst I supported him to grow into all of him.
And that has been our relationship.
We've had many ups and downs. We've had our crises, the biggest of which, as we often say, was helped through by a wonderfully good-hearted, kind and almost fumbling psychotherapist. He helped us recognise the depth of mutual understanding we already had, and to laugh together. The wondrous miracle of the glass that did not break. I'm sure some of you have read about that in Ya'Acov's wonderful book, "Jaguar in the body, Butterfly in the Heart."
You may also have heard us talking up how me learning Thai boxing and discovering a safe space to let my rage move physically, in safe and strong contact. It's one of the reasons we so often recommend boxing and boxing gloves to people who come to our couples workshops. It is such a release and a relief when anger can emerge without having to make the other person wrong. Just: I am angry. I am angry with you. Without name-calling, without putting someone down or blaming them. Simply owning this aspect of your own fire, my fire. My anger, in direct contact and connection. It so often opens the door to our hearts and their reconnection; sometimes with laughter, sometimes with tears, almost always wth relief.
We also recognise that a long-term marriage or intimate relationship is not for everyone. Some of us have long term relationships and it's a long term struggle. Some of us long for committed partnership and don't find it. And some of us are deeply content flying solo.
But for all of us, I believe deep human connection matters. Long-term friendships. Mutual relationships of support, connection, care, love and curiosity, in which we experience the ups and downs of life in solidarity together.
We were recently in Greece at the wonderful Euphoria Retreat, where they were hosting a festival on the theme of longevity. Not longevity in the sense of trying to cheat death, but longevity in the Greek sense of makrozoe. The retreat is deeply rooted in Greek philosophy and wisdom, and makrozoe is really about living a good life while acknowledging death as part of life, and part of what gives it its zing.
In that sense it felt very close to eudaimonia: human flourishing, a life well lived, deep wellbeing over time, meaning, purpose and alignment, becoming more fully oneself. Not just moments of pleasure, but a way of living that holds coherence over time, where who we are and how we live are in deeper alignment.
It made me think again about the science of longevity and how, again and again, warm connection and mutual trust emerge as consistent ingredients in healthy ageing. Research repeatedly shows that the quality of our relationships is one of the strongest predictors of long-term health and longevity. It is not simply having people around us that matters, but experiencing relationships of trust, mutual care, belonging and genuine connection. Close partnerships, enduring friendships and communities where people feel seen, valued and able to contribute are all associated with greater resilience, better physical and mental health, and healthier ageing.
Seen in this light, relationships that support one another's growth, deepen our capacity to know and be known, and foster a shared sense of purpose are not just emotionally nourishing. They are also an investment in our long-term wellbeing, and part of what it actually means to live a life of eudaimonia in practice.
At the same time, we were sent a beautiful photograph of a support group that formed during our very first apprenticeship and is still going strong today. Those people are still meeting, loving each other, growing together, maturing together and flourishing side by side, accompanying one another through the changing landscapes of their lives.
I celebrate that Movement Medicine as one of those places where people meet at a level of profundity and depth, with the whole spectrum of joy and suffering, passion and compassion. It is rare to find spaces where people from different generations and such varied backgrounds come together in both our common humanity and our unique particularity.
So today I'm celebrating Movement Medicine, apart from all the other things that it is, as a place where you can meet yourself, meet each other, and water this wellspring at the roots of the tree of human life.
We are, as I so often say, a profoundly social species, like horses, dolphins or whales. We need each other.
And that's not neurosis. That's real.
One act of warmth. One smile. One moment of genuine connection.
It changes the world.
