Don’t you love it when you see someone who understands what really matters in life? No wonder we’ve been celebrating this clip: a dad who catches his first foul ball ever . . . who sees that ball thrown back by his daughter . . . and whose immediate response is to wrap her up to let her know that she’s much more important than the souvenir.

In his marvelous book Breakfast Epiphanies, David Anderson describes the time when he and his wife began taking dancing lessons. At first, all was peachy. “It is not hard to dance with someone when everything is just fine.”

But then — as inevitably happens in marriage — they became upset with each other about something. “But it is almost impossible to take up a dance position with someone you are fighting with,” he learned.

They had a hard time dancing. But they found out that they could, in fact, practice dancing. It was something they had agreed to do. So they did. Anger seething and all.

“I put on the music and we stand in the middle of the living room floor like two hedgehogs negotiating an embrace. I take her right hand. Stiff. I place my right hand squarely on her back. She squirms as if in actual discomfort. Grand. We both want to say, ‘This is stupid — you can’t dance with someone you don’t even want to be in the same room with!’ But we lurch forward on the downbeat of Hi-Lilli, Hi-Lo, clomping woodenly through the waltz. It is ugly, but we do it. And afterward we nod at each other coolly as if to say, ‘So there.’”

Dancing at such a moment of conflict would have been tough; however, practicing a dance was negotiable. “When you’re in conflict with your partner, you can’t wait for reconciliation to hold one another and move in mirrored grace. You practice your way through the mess. In other words, dancers dance.”

Here’s his big discovery:

“We are sometimes enthralled by the romantic notion that, in intimate relationships, we ought not do or say anything we don’t truly feel. To do so would be dishonest. Wrong again. Usually we have to go through the motions to get to the emotions. . . .

“It is our family custom to hold hands when we say grace. We’ve done it since the children were old enough to join us at the table. Sometimes when we are in conflict, one or another person will decline to join hands. But more often than not we manage to close the circle. This act of intimacy does not mean that all parties are reconciled — the pitched argument continues right after the amen. It is simply a reminder that while we may be in a bitter war, we are fighting with those we dearly love. If action must wait upon feeling, it is impossible to hold someone’s hand — and ‘insincere’ to pray — in such a state of anger. Yet a moment’s thought tells us that intimacy in the midst of conflict is the true test of love. Anyone can hold a hand or say a prayer when they feel like it.

“In relationships, as in all of life, we are perfected by practice. It’s the one thing we can do even if we’re not sure we can do the real thing. If you can’t dance, you can practice dancing. If you can’t love, you can practice loving. If you can’t empathize or set aside anger or hold a hand, you can practice doing it. Sometimes the other person can’t tell the difference, and after a while, neither can you.”