Love in a time of zombies

I'm sitting in front of our new pellet stove.

So far, it's totally the sexiest furniture in the house.

We're hoping the jetted tub will be done soon -- the faucet has a broken diverter, which means spray comes out of the sides. Suffice it to say that we'll be thrilled to hop into it.

Although I'm sitting in a comfortable lawn chair, I'm envisioning a couch here, or perhaps some winged armchairs.

I love the couch idea, though. Idly, I dream of sitting curled up on one end, reading a novel, a man's arm wrapped loosely around my shoulder.

Can't quite envision what he's reading. Let's not even go there, at least not now.

But starting into the glowing flames, I think of....zombies.

Or rather, men and women who act like zombies when it comes to making courageous choices.

When I asked Facebook friends to ponder the concept of "zombie love," two mentioned horror movies.

One of the two suggested that perhaps the undead were those who just went through the motions of love.

What scares me is how many of us there are out there in the land of the supposedly living.

Some are married.

Some are affair partners who can't, or choose not to, communicate with their spouse.

Others are single (in theory).

In reality, they are endlessly recycling the same relationship over and over again.

The past isn't prologue -- it is present.

It draws them like a siren song, one that tows them underwater until they choke and cry out for air.

Yet when time or circumstance rescues them, it seems as though many prefer to return to the deep.

I'm not a zombie. But sometimes I feel as though I walk among the undead.

The price we pay for not reflecting on our past gets higher and higher as we age. That may be in part why so many second marriages fail -- a lack of ability to figure out why what we were looking for may not have been what we needed.

As a Facebook friend commented, however, sometimes looking back can bring sorrow. It's a trick, I think -- to learn from the past and yet live in the present!

Recently a friend said to me, rather enigmatically, that there arrives a time for us when we have to look back and choose -- the time becomes too precious to waste anymore.

On "Tell Me More" this afternoon, Bruce Feiler claimed he wants now (he is a survivor of cancer) to live each year as though it would be his last. That's his New Year's resolution. Not a bad one for all of us.

If you were living this year as though it was your last, would you be with the same partner? In the same post? Listening to the same music?

There may be good reasons to do all of those things...but only after reflecting on them.

I don't want a zombie lover. I want someone who chooses me, not a ghost.

I'd rather live in a vortex of reflection and passion and new life, and cry sometimes - than turn bland, blind eyes towards another just like me.

Actually, I've cried many times. More often during the past year than in many previous ones -- I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad one. But at least I know I'm giving love a shot.

You don't need to be seeking love to pass through zombieland. You may be looking for a new job, coping with a faith crisis, or trying to find the passionate self you left behind a long time ago.

The crossroads are a frightening place. Perhaps it seems, at this point, easier to turn back.

After all, behind you is the place you called home, not matter how dysfunctional it was...ahead lie monsters and cliffs, rough seas and rocks.

Ahead lies your dreams.

I stare into the orange and blue flames, and dream...

Freedom for the zombies. Freedom for the fearful. Freedom for those who want to be liberated.

Even a little. Your day to choose will arrive.