Clár na nÁbhar
Réamhrá
Caibidil 1: Our Drive to Bond
Caibidil 2: Creathanna Dea-
Caibidil 3: Love Potions
Caibidil 4: Four Minds Don’t Think Alike
Caibidil 5: Noble Gases: Spreading Peace, Love, and Tulsi Tea
epilogue
Aguisín A: The Honeymoon Effect Checklist
Aguisín B: Comedies for Cinematherapy
Acmhainní
Nuashonruithe
innéacs
Admhálacha
Written by:
CAIBIDIL 1
Éifeacht mhí na meala:
A state of bliss, passion, energy, and health resulting from a huge love. Your life is so beautiful that you can’t wait to get up to start a new day and thank the Universe that you are alive.
A lifetime without Love is of no account.
Love is the Water of Life.
Drink it down with heart and soul.
—Rumi
Nuair a bhí mé óg, dá ndéarfadh duine ar bith liom riamh go mbeinn ag scríobh leabhar faoi chaidrimh, ba mhaith liom a rá leo go raibh siad as a meabhair. Shíl mé gur miotas é an grá a shamhlaigh filí agus táirgeoirí Hollywood le go mbraitheann daoine go dona faoi na rudaí nach bhféadfadh a bheith acu riamh. Grá síoraí? Go sona riamh tar éis? Dearmad a dhéanamh air.
Cosúil le gach duine, cláraíodh mé ar bhealach a chuir ar chumas rudaí áirithe i mo shaol teacht go nádúrtha. Chuir mo chláir béim ar thábhacht an oideachais. Do mo thuismitheoirí, ba é luach an oideachais an difríocht idir saol déitheora díreach ag dul thart agus feidhmeannach coiléar bán le lámha boga agus saol bog. Ba léir go raibh siad den tuairim “Ní féidir leat a bheith mar rud ar bith sa saol seo gan oideachas.”
Ní nach ionadh, níor choinnigh mo thuismitheoirí aon rud siar nuair a tháinig sé chun mo chuid spéire oideachais a leathnú. Is cuimhin liom go beoga ag teacht abhaile ó rang dara grád Mrs Novak ar bís nuair a bhreathnaigh mé ar an saol iontach micreascópach de amoebas aoncheallacha agus algaí aoncheallacha áille cosúil leis an spirogyra iontach ainmnithe. Phléasc mé isteach sa teach agus impigh mé ar mo mháthair micreascóp de mo chuid féin a fháil. Gan aon leisce, thiomáin sí mé chuig an siopa láithreach agus cheannaigh sí mo chéad mhicreascóp dom. Is léir nárbh é sin an freagra céanna ar an tantrum a chaith mé thar mo mhian éadóchasach hata bó Roy Rogers, seisear lámhachóir, agus holster a fháil!
In ainneoin mo chéim Roy Rogers, ba é Albert Einstein a tháinig chun bheith ina laoch íocónach i m’óige: rolladh mo Mickey Mantle, Cary Grant, agus Elvis Presley go léir ina bpearsantacht ollmhór amháin. Ba bhreá liom i gcónaí an grianghraf a thaispeáin dó a theanga a ghreamú amach, a cheann clúdaithe le turraing phléascach de ghruaig bhán. Ba bhreá liom freisin Einstein a fheiceáil ar an scáileán beag bídeach den teilifís (nua-chumtha) inár seomra suí áit ar dhealraigh sé mar sheantuismitheoir grámhar, críonna agus spraíúil.
An chuid is mó ar fad, bhí mé an-bhródúil as gur sháraigh Einstein, inimirceach Giúdach cosúil le m’athair, claontacht trína shoilse eolaíoch. Uaireanta agus mé ag fás aníos i Westchester County, Nua Eabhrac, mhothaigh mé mar dhíbirt; dhiúltaigh tuismitheoirí inár mbaile cead a thabhairt dom imirt lena gcuid páistí ar eagla go scaipfinn “Bolshevism” orthu. Chuir sé bród agus slándáil orm a fhios a bheith agam gur fear Giúdach é Einstein, i bhfad ó bheith ina dhíbirt, a raibh meas agus onóir air ar fud an domhain.
Mar thoradh ar mhúinteoirí maithe, mo theaghlach oideachas-uile-duine, agus mo phaisean uaireanta a chaitheamh ag mo mhicreascóp Ph.D. i mbitheolaíocht na gceall agus post tionachta i Scoil an Leighis agus Sláinte Poiblí Ollscoil Wisconsin. Go híorónta, níor thosaigh mé ag tuiscint nádúr as cuimse rannchuidiú mo laoch buachaill Einstein lenár ndomhan ach nuair a d’fhág mé mo phost ansin chun an “eolaíocht nua,” lena n-áirítear staidéir ar mheicnic chandamach, a iniúchadh.
Agus mé faoi bhláth go hacadúil, i réimsí eile bhí mé i mo pháiste póstaeir le haghaidh mífheidhm, go háirithe i réimse an chaidrimh. Phós mé i mo 20í nuair a bhí mé ró-óg agus ró-neamhaibí go mothúchánach le bheith réidh le haghaidh caidreamh bríoch. Nuair a dúirt mé le m’athair tar éis 10 mbliana pósta go raibh mé ag fáil colscartha, d’áitigh sé go láidir ina choinne agus dúirt sé liom, “Is gnó é an pósadh.”
Ó amharc siar, rinne freagra m’athar ciall do dhuine a d’imigh ar imirce i 1919 ón Rúis a raibh gorta, pogromanna agus réabhlóid ann - bhí an saol do m’athair agus dá theaghlach deacair gan dabht agus bhí maireachtáil i gcónaí i gceist. Dá bharr sin, ba é sainmhíniú m’athar ar chaidreamh ná comhpháirtíocht oibre ina raibh an pósadh mar bhealach marthanais, cosúil le hearcú brídeanna ordú poist ag ceannródaithe crua-scrabáilte a chuir an tIarthar Fiáin ar bun sna 1800í.
Chuir pósadh mo thuismitheoirí macalla as dearcadh “gnó ar dtús” m’athar cé nár roinn mo mháthair, a rugadh i Meiriceá, a fealsúnacht. D’oibrigh mo mháthair agus m’athair le chéile sé lá sa tseachtain i ngnó rathúil teaghlaigh ach ní cuimhin le duine ar bith dá leanaí iad a fheiceáil ag roinnt póg nó nóiméad rómánsúil. Agus mé ag dul isteach i mo dhéagóirí luatha, tháinig díscaoileadh a bpósta chun solais nuair a chuir fearg mo mháthar ar chaidreamh gan ghrá níos measa le hól m’athar. Chuaigh mo dheartháir agus mo dheirfiúr níos óige i bhfolach inár closets mar rinne argóintí mí-úsáideacha ó bhéal go minic ár dteach a bhí síochánta roimhe seo. Nuair a shocraigh m’athair agus mo mháthair cónaí i seomraí leapa ar leithligh sa deireadh, bhí suaimhneas míshuaimhneach i réim.
Mar a rinne go leor tuismitheoirí míshásta go traidisiúnta sna 1950idí, d’fhan mo thuismitheoirí le chéile ar mhaithe leis na leanaí - scar siad tar éis do mo dheartháir is óige an baile a fhágáil don choláiste. Níor mhaith liom ach go raibh a fhios acu go ndéanfadh samhaltú a gcaidrimh mhífheidhmiúil i bhfad níos mó dochair dá leanaí ná mar a dhéanfadh a scaradh.
Ag an am, chuir mé an milleán ar m’athair as ár saol mífheidhmiúil teaghlaigh. Ach le haibíocht, thuig mé go raibh an dá thuismitheoir chomh freagrach céanna as an tubaiste a rinne dochar dá gcaidreamh agus do chomhchuibheas an teaghlaigh. Níos tábhachtaí fós, thosaigh mé ag feiceáil conas a d’imir a n-iompar, a chláraigh isteach i m’intinn fho-chomhfhiosach, tionchar agus bonn ar mo chuid iarrachtaí caidreamh grámhar a chruthú leis na mná i mo shaol.
In the meantime I experienced years of pain. The dissolution of my own marriage was emotionally devastating, especially because my two wonderful daughters, now grown into loving and accomplished women, were just little girls. So devastating that I vowed never to marry again. Convinced that true love was a myth—at least for me—every day for 17 years I repeated this mantra when I shaved: “I won’t get married again. I won’t get married again.”
Needless to say, I wasn’t committed relationship material! But despite my morning ritual I couldn’t ignore what is a biological imperative for all organisms, from single cells to our 50-trillion-celled bodies—the drive to connect with another organism.
The first Big Love I experienced was a cliché: an older man with a bad case of arrested emotional development falls in love with a younger woman and experiences an intense, hormone-driven, teenaged-style affair. For a year I floated happily through life high on “love potions,” the neurochemicals and hormones coursing through my blood that you’ll read about in Chapter 3. When my teenaged-style love affair inevitably crashed and burned (saying she needed “space,” she rode her bicycle a very short space away into the arms of a cardiovascular surgeon), I spent a year in my big, empty house wallowing in pain and pining for the woman who had left me. Cold turkey is horrible, not just for heroin addicts but also for those whose biochemistry reverts to everyday hormones and neurochemicals in the wake of a failed love affair.
One cold Wisconsin winter day I was sitting alone (as usual) in a chair, ruminating again about the woman who had left me. I suddenly thought, Goddammit, leave me alone! A wise voice that occasionally appears at pivotal times of my life responded, “Bruce, isn’t that exactly what she did?” I burst out laughing and that broke the spell. From then on, any time I started obsessing, I would laugh. Finally, I had gotten past withdrawal through laughter, though I still had a long way to go to get my act together!
How far I was from getting my act together became crystal clear to me when I moved to the Caribbean to teach at an offshore medical school. I was living in the most beautiful place on Earth in a villa by the ocean with gorgeous, sweet-smelling flowers; the villa even came with a gardener and a cook. I wanted to share my new life with someone (though of course not get married—I was still fixated on my morning mantra). I wanted more than a sexual partner. I wanted someone I could share my new life with in the most beautiful place on Earth. But the harder I looked the less I found, even though I had what I thought was the world’s best pickup line: “If you’re not doing anything, how about hanging out with me at my Caribbean villa?”
One night I tried what should have been my surefire pickup line on a woman who had just arrived on Grenada, the picture-perfect island I had come to love. We went to the yacht club bar and chatted. I thought she was interesting so I asked her to stay for a while instead of going back to her job working on the yacht. She looked me in the eye and said, “No, I could never be with you. You’re too needy.” The bullet hit—I was blown back into my chair in silence. After a long, stunned moment, I recovered my speech and managed to say, “Thank you. I needed to hear that.” Not only did I know she was right; I knew that I needed to get my own life together before I could have the truly loving relationship I so desperately wanted.
Then a funny thing happened: as soon as I let go of my desperate quest for a relationship, women who wanted a relationship with me started appearing in my life. Finally, the true inspiration for this book, my beloved Margaret, entered my life and we started living our lives like those portrayed in the romantic comedies I once dismissed as fantasy.
But that’s getting ahead of the story. First I had to learn that I was not “fated” to be alone, that I was not “fated” to have to settle for a series of failed relationships.
I had to learn that not only had I cruthaíodh every failed relationship in my life, I could a chruthú the wonderful relationship I wanted! The first step began in the Caribbean when I experienced the scientific epiphany I described in my first book, Bitheolaíocht an Chreidimh. While mulling over my research on cells, I realized that cells are not controlled by genes and neither are we. That eureka instant was the beginning of my transition, as I chronicled in that book, from an agnostic scientist into a Rumi-quoting scientist who believes we all have the capacity to create our own Heaven on Earth and that eternal life transcends the body.
That instant was also the beginning of my transition from a marriage-phobic skeptic into an adult who finally took responsibility for every failed relationship in his life and realized he could create the relationship of his dreams. In this book, I’ll chronicle that transition using some of the same science outlined in Bitheolaíocht an Chreidimh (and more). I’ll explain why it is not your hormones, your neurochemicals, your genes, or your less-than-ideal upbringing that prevents you from creating the relationships you say you want. Your creidimh are preventing you from experiencing those elusive, loving relationships. Change your beliefs, change your relationships.
Of course, it’s more complicated than that because in relationships between two people there are actually four minds at work. Unless you understand how those four minds can work against each other, even with the best of intentions, you’ll be “looking for love in all the wrong places.” That’s why self-help books and therapy so often foster insight but not actual change—they only deal with two of the four minds at work in relationships!
Think back to the most spectacular love affair of your life—the Big One that toppled you head over heels. You made love for days on end, didn’t need food, barely needed water, and had endless energy: it was The Honeymoon Effect that was to last forever. So often, though, the honeymoon devolves into daily bickering, maybe divorce, or just tolerance. The good news is that it doesn’t have to end that way.
You might think that your Big Love was a coincidence at best or a delusion at worst, and that the collapse of your Big Love was bad luck. But in this book, I’ll explain how you created The Honeymoon Effect in your life and its demise as well. Once you know how you created it and how you lost it, you can, like me, quit whining about your bad karma in relationships and create a happily-ever-after relationship that even a Hollywood producer would love.
After decades of failure, that’s what I finally manifested! Because so many people have asked how we did it, Margaret and I will explain in the Epilogue how we’ve managed to create our happily-ever-after Honeymoon Effect for 17 years and counting. We want to share our story because love is the most potent growth factor for human beings and love is contagious! As you’ll find when you create The Honeymoon Effect in your own life, you’ll attract similarly loving people to you—and the more the merrier. Let’s take Rumi’s eight-century-old advice and revel in our love for each other so this planet can finally evolve into a better place where all organisms can live their own Heaven on Earth. My hope is that this book will launch you on a journey, as that instant in the Caribbean launched me, to create The Honeymoon Effect each and every day of your life.