The Raw Material of Partnership

"We are made for loving. If we don’t love, we will be like plants without water." — Desmond Tutu

We live in strange times. Turn on the news and you’ll hear stories that make you question our values. You might wonder: how did we get here? And more importantly, how do we find our way back to each other?

Beneath all the headlines, social media outrage and divisive rhetoric that dominates our attention, there’s a deeper, more fundamental truth calling to us. We can choose the harder but more meaningful path of actually trying to understand each other. We can raise our voices to stand for building a culture of belonging. We can live with hearts wide open to possibility, even when the world feels like it’s spinning out of control.

I’ve been thinking about this lately — especially after offering a blessing around partnership and love at a wedding ceremony. What struck me wasn’t just the deep love between the two individuals, but how the vows they made to each other offered a blueprint for how we might engage with our fractured world. Their commitment to partnership wasn’t just about building a home together. It was also about embodying a way of being — aligning themselves with their values, navigating difference, showing up in their community and finding a path of compassion where they see the humanity of others.

Now imagine if we took those same vows — not in a literal sense, but as a way of orienting our hearts toward one another in daily life. What if we committed to listening more deeply, turning toward one another and cultivating a willingness to learn, unlearn, rethink and even begin again? This is what I hoped to capture in the blessing I offered that day. 

Through my experience, a couple stands where rivers find one another — each carrying its own history, gifts and ways of moving through the world. Not merging into sameness, but flowing side by side, where every choice ripples outward. In that convergence, they don’t lose their individual essence; they create something stronger and more powerful than either could be alone — part of a greater ebb and flow that is deeper and more meaningful than either could be alone.

Sometimes the river’s current flows in harmony and sometimes it creates eddies of confusion, doubt and worry. These newlyweds will stumble, misunderstand each other, forget important moments and sometimes feel like strangers. But struggle and imperfection don’t diminish love, they strengthen it, deepening authenticity and developing resilience. 

This is not failure — this is the raw material of partnership where love is not measured by how rarely we fall but how gracefully we help each other rise.

Each time we choose to turn toward each other, each time we say, “I hear you” and mean it, each time we try again with greater tenderness, we are loving better. What is being asked of us is to see each other’s full humanity even when — especially when — it’s messy.

As I spoke these words, I realized I was describing something our world desperately needs. What will it take to turn the current tide? What would it look like to uphold standards of ethical behavior that affirm the preciousness of every life.

The answer isn’t found in waiting for others to change. It begins in the everyday moments when we remember our shared humanity. It lives in our daily choices. We can choose curiosity over rigidity or control. We can respond with skill instead of react. We can choose to see the person behind the position. We can practice unwavering kindness — not the kind that ignores harm, but the kind that refuses to give up on our capacity to treat each other with dignity and respect.

In a world where hurt so often goes unhealed, practicing reconciliation becomes a radical act. One way we might embody this is through Ho’oponopono — the Hawaiian prayer of forgiveness and repair used when we hurt others. It offers a simple yet profound sequence of words: “I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.” These phrases carry both humility and courage, reminding us that we have agency to create new pathways of understanding.

So the invitation is ours to reflect: How might we water the roots of our individual and collective lives? How might we practice a steadiness that allows us to respond skillfully rather than react defensively— to stay grounded and openhearted? How might our shared struggles and differences expand our ability to see one another as fully human — worthy of a higher morality?

As Archbishop Desmond Tutu reminds us: “We are made for loving. If we don’t love, we will be like plants without water.” His words are not simply a call to kindness, but a reminder of our very nature. Love is the soil that nourishes our shared humanity. With it, we flourish.