Hills…by Philip Poczik

This is a two part story written by a professor for a course called "Culture of Respect".. Professor P is a "professional story teller" and without a doubt, this was much more influential when it was "performed". Nonetheless, because of the impact it had on my views of what love should and can be, I thought I would share it with you. It may seem a bit long, but I think a worthwhile read. If nothing else, read the epilogue which outlines the "lessons" of the story.

Let me tell you about a little boy who loved the stars.  He was very happy, because his family had just moved to a new home near the bottom of a huge hill.  The hill was so big that the little boy thought he could stand on the top of the hill and touch the sky.  On the first day that the little boy’s family moved to their new home, the little boy asked his father if he could go and explore the hill, and the little boy’s father agreed.

The little boy ran over to the hill as fast as he could, and when he got to the bottom of the hill, he saw that there was already someone else standing on top of the hill.  It was a little girl.  But unlike any other little girl the little boy had ever seen before, for she had very dark skin.  Just as the little boy was staring up at the little girl and wondering how it was her skin could have possibly gotten so dark, he noticed the little girl lay down on the top of the hill in her nice white dress, and start rolling down the hill and laughing all the way.  The little boy watched her do this several times and he became quite jealous of all the fun the little girl was having.  So the next time the little girl ran to the top of the hill, the little boy ran to the top also.

When the little girl turned around to roll down the hill again, she saw the little boy.  She gave him a look as if to say:  “What are you doing on my hill?”  The little boy responded by laying down on the top of the hill and rolling down the hill and laughing all the way.  The little girl smiled, and she rolled down the hill trying to race the little boy.  And it was like that for the rest of the afternoon.  The little boy and the little girl rolled, and rolled, and rolled down the hill, laughing all the way.  They rolled until they were covered in dirt.  They had dirt in their ears and dirt in their noses.  They had dirt in their hair and dirt in their fingernails.  Dirt in their clothes and even in between their toes.  They were covered with dirt.

After several hours spent rolling down the hill, the little boy grew quite comfortable with the little girl.  He grew comfortable enough to ask her about her dark skin.  So the little boy said:  “Why is your skin so dark?”  To which the little girl responded:  “Well, I was wondering why your skin was so pale, but I decided not to ask, because I figured that’s just the way that you were.”  And the little boy liked that response, and he felt it answered his question as well.  So again the little boy and the little girl rolled, and rolled, and rolled down the hill until the sun began to set.

They walked one last time up to the top of the hill and the little boy asked:  “So, do you want to roll down the hill one more time?”  But the little girl said no, it was getting dark, and she needed to get home for supper.  So the little boy asked:  “Well, where do you live?”  And the little girl said:  “I live on the bottom of this side of the hill, the side where the sun rises.”  And the little boy said:  “Well, I live on the bottom of the other side of the hill, the side where the sun sets.  Would you like to meet me here again tomorrow and roll down the hill some more?”  And the little girl said:  “Maybe.”  And she ran down her side of the hill.  The little boy smiled, and he ran down his side of the hill.

Both the little boy and the little girl ran home to tell their parents about their afternoon spent rolling down the hill.  And even though their children were covered from head to toe in dirt, both the little boy and the little girl had very loving parents, and they were happy that their children had made a new friend.  So they told them that it was okay they meet at the top of the hill again the next day.

And it was like that for the next year.  Every day after they would finish their studies, the little boy and the little girl would meet at the top of the hill and they would spend their afternoons rolling down the hill and laughing all the way.  And whenever the little boy would ask the little girl whether or not she would meet him again the next day, she would always say “maybe,” but she always showed up.  And after a year of every day rolling down the hill and laughing all the way, the little girl started to grow tired of that game, and she wanted to play a new game.  And then one day it rained.  It rained very hard, and by the time the little boy and the little girl met at the top of the hill, they noticed that the hill was covered in puddles.

The little girl noticed that the puddles were filled with worms.  And she felt bad for the drowning worms, and she wanted to save them.  So she went and got a stick and started carefully going to each of the puddles and picking up the drowning worms and placing them on dry spots of grass.  The little boy watched her do this for about five minutes, and then he realized that saving the drowning worms was important to the little girl, and he wanted to help her.  So he grabbed the stick from her hand and furiously started going to each of the puddles and picking up the drowning worms and placing them on dry spots of grass.  The little girl smiled.  She was grateful for the little boy.  And after about ten minutes of saving the drowning worms, the little boy looked at the stick that was in his hands.  He looked at the stick he had been using to save the drowning worms, and he licked the end of it to see how the worms tasted.  The little girl said, “Ewwww!,” and smacked his hand.

The little boy learned things that the little girl didn’t like.  And he tried not to do them again.  But sometimes he did those things anyways, just to tease the little girl and to play with her.  The little girl knew this, but she didn’t understand it.

So for the next year whenever it would rain, the little boy and the little girl would meet at the top of the hill once they were done with their studies, and they would grab sticks and work together to save the drowning worms.  But after a year of saving the drowning worms, the little girl grew tired of that game as well, and she wanted to play a new game.    So one day she suggested to the little boy that they play King and Queen, for on the top of the hill there was one magnificent climbing tree.  So for the next year whenever the little boy and the little girl would meet at the top of the hill, they would play King and Queen and use the tree as their kingdom.

Now the little boy always demanded that he be able to be the King.  And even though she had no interest in being the King and actually much preferred to be the Queen, the little girl somehow didn’t think it was right that the little boy should get his way all of the time.  So sometimes she demanded that she be able to be the King or that she would go home and not play with the little boy.  Even though he was hurt by it, the little boy always relented and allowed the little girl to be King.  But it wasn’t the fact that he couldn’t be King that hurt the little boy, it was the fact that the little girl said she would go home and not play with him.

And the little boy and the little girl played many games over the years until they grew up to be teenagers.  And when they grew to be a young man and a young woman, the young woman suggested to the young man that they not meet every day at the top of the hill, but rather they should just meet once a week so that they could focus on their studies.  And rather than meet in the afternoon, they would meet each other every Friday night, so that the young man could tell the young woman about the stars.  For the young man had never lost his passion for the stars, and he was studying to be an astronomer.  So every Friday night the young man and the young woman would meet at the top of the hill and the young man would tell the young woman stories about the constellations and how they came to be.  It was always this way, that the young man did the talking while the young woman listened.

And on one Friday night, with only a few months to go before they were to graduate, the young man went to meet the young woman at the top of the hill.  This particular Friday night he was going to again tell her the story of the constellation Orion, which was his favorite.  But when the young man got to the top of the hill, he noticed that the young woman was nowhere in sight.  It was the first time in all their years of knowing each other that she had not met him when he was expecting her.  The young man laid down on the hill for several hours that evening, staring up at the stars, wondering why it was that the young woman had not made their meeting.  He noticed that he had a very hollow feeling in his chest, and he didn’t like it.  He determined that the next time he saw the young woman he would tell her about that hollow feeling and how he didn’t like the way it felt.  

The following Friday the young man finished his studies early so that he could go into the woods and pick a selection of the most lovely flowers for the young woman.  He waited very anxiously until sunset, as he was again not certain if the young woman was going to miss their meeting.  So he was very relieved when he got to the top of the hill and saw that the young woman was already sitting there staring up at the stars.  The young man held out the flowers in his hand:  “I brought these for you.”  The young woman stood up, turned around, walked over to the young man, took the flowers, thanked him.

And even though he didn’t think it was possible, the young man started hearing even more words coming out of his mouth.  He said:

“You know how your parents have been together for a long, long time, and have raised you from a little girl to a young woman.  My parents have also been together for a long, long time and have raised me from a little boy to a young man.  I don’t care whether it’s on this side of the hill, or on that side of the hill—I want to live with you for a long, long time, and raise a little boy or a little girl to be a young man or a young woman.”

The young woman stared down at the ground.  She then looked up and stared back at the stars, the same stars the young man had told her about so many times before.  She responded to the young man:

“I don’t feel the same way.  I don’t want to stay on this side of the hill or on that side of the hill.  I want to leave this hill.  I believe there is something else out there for me.  And I want to find it.”

The young man was crushed.  He did not understand how he could feel so certain about the young woman and she not feel the same way.  The young man made up some excuse about having to finish his studies, and he ran down his side of the hill towards his home.  He sat down on a large stump on the side of his house, and he cried.  He then heard his father coming down the road from a late night at work and did his best to pull himself together.  The young man looked up to his father something awful.  His greatest aspiration was to be the kind of man his father was.  And when the young man’s father saw his son sitting on the stump he wondered why it was he was not visiting with his friend on this particular Friday night.

And so when his father came over to the stump and placed his hand on his shoulder, the young man asked him two questions.  He said:  “Dad, how is it that you and mom have been in a loving relationship for all of these years?  What is it about mom that let you know she was the woman for your life?”

The young man’s father let out a big sigh, and he sat down next to his son on the stump.  He thought about the question for a good minute, and then he said:

“Because she’s not wearing.”

“Because she’s not wearing?” thought the young man to himself.  He expected something far more profound coming from his father, and something far more complimentary towards his mother.  The young man’s father patted his son on the shoulder, and then walked back into his home.  That night the young man kept running his father’s words through his head again and again until he finally fell asleep.

The next morning when the young man woke up, he bounded out of bed.  He quickly threw on some clothes, splashed some water on his face, and ran towards the door of his home.  His mother said:  “Don’t you want some breakfast?”  And he said:  “Not now, thanks Mom,” and bolted out the door.  The young man ran to the hill as fast as he could and sprinted up its side.  And when he reached the top of the hill he saw that the young woman was already sitting there, staring at the sunrise.  She knew he was there, but she did not turn around.  The young man spoke to her:

“I know why I love you,” he said.  “Because you’re not wearing.  Throughout all of these years, even when we’ve disagreed, even when you’ve made me mad, I have always wanted you around.  I have never tired of your presence.  You have halved my pains, you have doubled my joys, and you have made me never feel alone.  I now understand what love is.  Love is knowing that no matter where you go, no matter how far you travel, there is always someone else out there who’s always thinking about you.  I am not certain of many things, but I am certain that I want you to leave this hill.  For the only thing I am sure of is that if you stay, you will come to find me wearing, and that is the only thing in my life that I know I don’t want.”

The young woman stood up, turned around, and walked over to the young man.  She took his hands into her own, she pulled him towards her, and she gave him a kiss.  It was the first time in all their years of knowing each other that they had ever kissed.  She then began to back away from the young man until his fingertips fell from her hands, and she turned around to walk down her side of the hill.  The young man watched her leave, and then he turned around to walk down his side of the hill.  And he smiled.  Not so much of a smile, more of a grin, but it was the proudest smile he had ever worn.

And those are hills…

Epilogue

So why did I create this story?  Why do I share this story with groups of human beings?  My father is very much so the father in this story.  I look up to my father something awful.  My greatest aspiration is to be the kind of man my father is.  And my parents have been together for almost 40 years.  A true fairy tale like that.  The most loving, nurturing, supportive relationship I have ever observed.  When the chips were down they’re the first to help pick each other up, dust each other off, and keep each other going.  When the chips were up they’d be the first to give each other a high-five and a hug and help double each other’s joy.  Just the most beautiful relationship I have ever observed between two human beings…

Well I was traveling with my father in Florence, Italy back in January of 2002.  We were at a restaurant, the wine was flowing, I was feeling loose, and I asked my dad those two questions.  I said:

“Dad, how is it that you and mom have been in a loving relationship for all of these years?  What is it about mom that let you know she was the woman for your life?”

My father let out a big sigh, he thought about the question for a good minute, and then he said:  “Because she’s not wearing…”

At first I was like:  “Because she’s not wearing?  What the hell does that mean?”  Well, I have firmly come to believe that is the most profound statement about love that exists, and that is why I created this story…

What does it mean to be wearing on somebody?  One of the principles that I live by, one of the tenets that I created for myself is:  “I’m here to build people up, not break them down.”  When you are wearing on somebody—you break them down.  You erode their confidence, their self-esteem, their sense of self-worth, their motivation, their drive, their ambition.  You make them less than what they’re capable of being…

I assure you that if you think about any relationship in your life that has ever dissolved—whether it was a romantic relationship or a relationship with a friend or a family member or an employer—if you look closely enough at why that relationship fell apart, at the root of it will be that one of you in the situation grew wearing on the other.  What does it mean to not be wearing.  What kind of partner are you going to find that won’t be wearing on you.  What kind of behavior are you going to exhibit that won’t be wearing on the people you care about.  The concept of not being wearing as the key to unconditional love…

Another thing I wanted people to take away from this story comes from the imagery at the end, when the young woman lets the young man’s hands go.  That comes from something my father once said to me.  He said:  “Hold my hand with an open palm.”  Hold my hand with an open palm.  So many times when we love somebody, when we care for somebody, we hold them close, we hold them tightly.  “Oh, I love this person, I want them near me, I want to be around them.”  What does that do?  That causes pressure…

When you hold somebody’s hand with an open palm what that means is—”I want you here, but if the best thing for you is not to be here, then you’re free to go.  Because if I truly love you, then the best thing for you is the best thing for me.”  Now it may seem antithetical to you all that you’ll get more people to stay if you hold their hand with an open palm rather than gripping them tightly, but from my experience you will.  And why is that?  Because they know they can stay or leave and have your blessing—it will make them much more cognizant of what’s in that open palm.  Of what they have in you.  Hold those peoples hands you care about with an open palm.  You will get more people to stay that way…

Another thing I wanted people to take away from this story came from my sister…We have it real twisted in the world today that we believe the opposite of love is hate.  You know, we attribute feelings like hate to the cause of wars.  And with regards to each other we’re so fickle it’s like pulling pedals from a rose—I love you, I hate you, I love you, I hate you.  Folks, the opposite of love is not hate.  It’s not.  Whether you love somebody or you hate somebody, you feel strongly about that person in some kind of way.  There is a seed of love in both love and hate.  The opposite of love is indifference.  You understand that—indifference.  That’s when—”I feel less than nothing towards you.  Ill feelings or otherwise.”  That is the opposite of love…

And lastly, the final thing I wanted people to take away from this story was something that my mother taught me, and it was the hardest lesson to learn.  And that is…It is actually natural and healthy for us to sometimes hurt the people we care about the most.  And I know that’s hard to get your head around but I’ll explain it like this…

If I’m having a rough day, the world is just bearing down on me today, if I go home and take some of that out on you, I know it’s going to have an affect on you because you care about me.  If I’m nasty to a stranger on the street they can just sort of blow it off and say “whatever.”  But if I know you care about me, if I do something intentionally to try and hurt you, I know it’s going to have an affect on you.  It’s going to make you feel some of the hurt that I feel.  It can actually be a search for empathy.  And it’s so hard because it’s like—”Dag, I love this person.  Why’d they have to do that to me or why’d they have to say that?”  Just please remember that you just might be the only person in the world they are comfortable enough with to share those feelings of hurt.

What does it mean to not be wearing.  The concept of not being wearing as the key to unconditional love.  Hold those peoples hands you care about with an open palm.  You will get more people to stay that way.  The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference.  And it’s actually natural and healthy to sometimes hurt the people we care about the most.  So don’t give up on people.