Dangerous Compassions

how we met

“Yeah, it was important that we met at the party.  Then how we met again at that vegan place.  But the most important part was you inviting me to harvest surplus citrus on a small farm for Food Not Bombs,” I said.  I was in bed, preaching to Ming.

“You know how to love,” I continued.  “You understand that love is not two people making eyes at each other in the candlelight.  It’s actually caring for people.  That’s how I knew you were the real thing.”

“Yeah,” Ming said.

“Wow, I really believe that.  I have strong feelings about that,” I said.  I had almost cried, explaining that to him.

how we met

A new friend asked how Ming and I met.  We were playing that witch RPG where I was Tumult the Toad.  Not everyone had arrived, so it was pre-game chatter.

Ming explained how we met at the birthday party of a friend who made vegan cheese.  “We saw each other across the room,” Ming said.

“So it was love at first sight,” our friend summarized.

“Well, I loved Ming at first sight.  Ming was like–why is this weird lady talking to me so much?” I said.

We laughed.  What’s the truth?  Who knows, anymore.  It will go down in the history books incorrectly.  It’s been mythologized, at this point.

Ming pointing to his name written in sharpie on the party cup.  When he put down the box of fruit and picker to gently hug me goodbye.  The respectful warmth of that hug.  His slight dancing.


I’m just glad I could heal enough to have my first healthy relationship.  Grateful I met Ming when I did.  We co-create a path together.  We know ourselves and another, and we have good hearts.  We’re both givers.  It’s a good partnership.

I’ll always be healing–art is a favorite way.  I made this and didn’t like it for a week.  Then I added the burgundy on the edges, and I like it now.  Glad I stuck with it.


By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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