Going peacefully to the unknown falls

I just had a dream which seems to have borrowed concepts from Meet Joe Black, Dead Like Me, What Dreams May Come, and the like.  It went something like this:

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I had known it was coming, for some reason.  My friend Clint was tasked with passing people from this life.  With a touch, usually unexpected, they slipped away.  With me, we knew it was coming.  The perks of having your friend be a reaper, I guess.  I knew the fast-approaching day and time.

As it approached, my preparations had nothing to do with having wild new experiences and eating amazing food.   I just spent low-key time with people I wanted to spend time with.  I wasn't to indicate I was 'leaving', so I pretty much carried on as normal.  I called people I hadn't spoken with in a while.  Most notably, I expressed affection more freely and let the little frictions go.  I hugged without the fear of how someone might interpret it or what awkwardness might result down the road.  I didn't care.  My road was taking me elsewhere.  I wanted them to know that I cared, and I needn't fear any pain I might feel by them abusing or disregarding that affection since I was leaving anyway.

The days leading up to the event are blurry.  I remember, though, the day.  I was in a classroom of some sort, college-style, and the class was dismissed with a bell.  My first instinct was to gather my things, pack my backpack in a hurry, and head off to whatever important things I had to attend to.  Except...this was the place.  I more casually packed up, walked calmly with my bag to the corner of the room by large bay windows, and set my backpack down on a couch there, where Clint and another friend were waiting for me solemnly but not somber.  I watch the dozens of people filter out, going on with their indefinite lives as I prepared to leave mine within the hour, and chatted with my friends as usual.  I suddenly thought, "Oh, I can't just leave my backpack laying around, I need to make sure my stuff's not going to be a burden to anyone, I..."  It dawned on me none of it mattered.  Someone would take care of all of that.  It was too late to concern myself with such details; now was a time to just...let it all go.  I looked at my backpack, my life in a bag, and I realized I'd never be picking it up again.  My mind went back to the images stored on the hard drive in the computer in that bag: a lifetime of snapshots I'd reviewed to refresh all of my memories, my life flashing before my eyes as it were.  There was no such thing as tying up all loose ends.  I accepted that.

I was admittedly a bit nervous.  My heart was racing just a bit, but as I looked out the window, I saw an expansive view of a richly salmon-hued sunset over a large and gorgeous body of water dotted by sailboats and lined across the far side by majestically rugged mountains and the near side by lush evergreen forest surrounding creamy beaches gently lapped by clear, turquoise water.  It was a conglomeration of all of the places which have 'taken me to my happy place', brought peace, and been home.  It reassured me that this was to be a peaceful process.  On the far right side from my vantage point, the large body of water spilled through an opening in the mountains into...I couldn't see what.  Was it a waterfall?  There was nothing visible beyond it.  "That's one tall waterfall," I thought.  I knew that's where I was going.  It was unknown.  It might be nowhere, nothing beyond that point but the ultimately peaceful stillness of not being.  It might be a step into another life, another sphere with more learning and relationships.  It might be whatever my consciousness made of it, a place of indescribable beauty and peace or fear and darkness depending on what my mind expected and how much I resisted leaving.  I didn't resist.  I would say I was resigned, but it felt more like humble acceptance and readiness to embark than mere resignation.

I said to my friends, "Sunset.  I've kind of imagined it would feel like this, a slowly setting sun as I depart into the unknown.  I guess it's set up that way to make it more peaceful for me, eh?  You know, some consider nightfall to be a new beginning, a dissolution of the garish light of day...or maybe that was me, too.  Ha, well it feels right."

As I gazed out the window, the din of departing students almost gone now, there were people I wished I could bring with me if I was going somewhere new.  There were relationships I wished had not ended or become strained.  There were people I had wanted to call but didn't because my only explanation would have been, "I'm dying," and I wasn't allowed to let them know that, nor did I want to concern them anyway or somehow obligate niceness or interest, and I certainly didn't want to irritate anyone by calling out of the blue or end on a bad note.  Better to hold on to the good memories and let it be.  We all go through it.  We might've resolved things in time, but I didn't need to.  I was moving on, and it was really, truly OK.  I breathed out slowly as fond or poignant memories of happy moments and personal connections washed over me, and I was that much more ready.

I sat in the window across from the friend who would induce my passage.  There was nothing left to say.  Nothing seemed to matter enough to say it.  Memories from my life kept cycling through my mind as I took in the view and felt my consciousness drifting almost imperceptibly outward over the water in the now-dim light of dusk towards the unknown falls and closed my eyes as if to sleep...

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I woke up and decided to record this while it was fresh, kind of hoping my own eventual death is actually anywhere near so peaceful and that I feel anywhere near so ready if I do somehow know it's coming.  While typing, I suddenly grabbed my sideburn...oh, good, all there.  Earlier in my dream I'd had to cut my own hair and nicked myself in such a way that I was forced to chop off my sideburns way higher than I like, and it was totally goofy-looking.  Right back to caring about the stuff that doesn't matter, eh? *wink*

Sometimes I wonder...

...if those who are in successful, happy, lifetime relationships are afraid to tell me that the kind of romantic passion I've felt as I've fallen for someone is not important, or if they secretly hope they're wrong and wish they'd felt it, or they don't want to stomp out a dream but let me discover what everyone eventually does: that it's a fantasy to hope for that in a lifetime relationship, or if they have forgotten that they, too, felt it when they met, or if they are actually bitter that they haven't felt it in a long time and wish for everyone to be miserable like unto them *wink*, or if they never have actually experienced what I've experienced but built a happy and fulfilling life without it anyway, or if they really do believe it's a beautiful, meaningful thing I should seek but either don't comment because they have no way of knowing what I actually felt or are afraid they'd be implicitly promoting a relationship they aren't comfortable supporting but don't want to say so and therefore opt to stay quiet instead...I suppose I was supposed to ask these questions and get sick of them by the time I hit my early-to-mid-twenties. Call me a late bloomer. :-)

Realizations inspired by canine quirks

Despite having had a rough day, while reading in the most secluded room in the house tonight, I couldn't help but smile at the weirdness of my brother's family's dog's behaviors during his nightly routine: attempting to dig a hole in the carpet next to the couch, daintily but vigorously nibbling itchy spots on his leg with awkwardly exposed teeth, looking at me out of the corner of his eyes like he's slightly self-conscious about this habit, fluffing and re-fluffing his bed and walking around on it in tight little prancing circles to get it just right, lying down, then repeating because it apparently wasn't quite right after all... These were all behaviors I haven't noticed during the day when he's eating, playing, napping, begging, or out for walks. These are the quiet little behaviors he does when there's nothing to beg for, nothing to eat, nobody to play with, no energy to go walking with.

As I sat watching bemused from the couch, I thought, "This is the stuff that endears me to the critter. ...Heck, this is the stuff that endears me to people, too." As much as many people seem to "have to adjust" to others' idiosyncrasies and quirky behaviors they do when they think nobody is looking or out of habit without realizing it, I've realized those are the very behaviors and quirks which often most quickly endear me to someone. I have a habit of people-watching, but I'm usually not so much making up stories about them in my mind as watching for their general temperament and gestures, or the quirky little things they do differently from most people. And as silly as it may be, I feel like I get to know someone more at one overnighter where I see their nightly routine or catch glimpses of their late-night, less-guarded demeanor somewhere between alertness and sleep than I will in three hours of lunch conversation in which they put on their best face.

In short, quirks aren't something I feel like I have to get past or overcome about people (except for those rare, uncomfortable ones like reaching into their underwear to scratch deep in their rear end then handing you a glass of water without washing their hands...those kind are not so endearing, even if revealing) but glimpses into a person which I look forward to seeing when I'm really interested in getting to know someone and which endear me to someone more quickly than just about anything they might say or do when trying to be as "normal" as they think most people want them to be.

I just wanna be understood, is that so wrong?

In different times of life, I think we each long for different things. I happen to be in a place where I'm wishing there were more people in my life who, when I described my journey or experiences or thoughts, were able to say, "I totally get that." I don't doubt I have people in my life who love me, and I try to be grateful for that, but right now, it doesn't offer much comfort, if any, to hear it. What I want to hear is, "I understand you. I get it." More than that, I want to be able to believe it when someone says it. I suppose we tend to want most what we most perceive is lacking. In my case, it's not people I can have fun with, or talk with about serious things, or who feel affection for me and genuinely care, but people who really understand me. Maybe I've always kind of felt that way. Thought that way? Not sure which...or both? But maybe I've reached a point where that's too much to expect. At my ripe ol' age, what are the odds someone else's experiences, perceptions, beliefs, questions, and conclusions truly match up with mine? Smaller and smaller all the time. Ah, this is why getting married before you're too old is helpful. I'll try not to resent the hand I was dealt and the challenges it has presented to forming lifetime partnership relationships.

Maybe it's too late to hope for someone with mostly shared perspective on life, the universe, and everything. Maybe affection, mutual goals and values and principles, and mutual respect will do. And I can build associations with a variety of individuals who can identify with different aspects of my experience and relate on personal levels to portions here and there. Maybe that will hold me over until the next time I start thinking maybe I've found a soulmate of sorts who doesn't have to understand me from the start but with whom I can embark on the exciting journey of learning about each other and understanding one another more profoundly than anyone else understands either of us, and loving each other with a wholeness of passion (and I use this word at least as much in the sense in which you're passionate about or attracted to an enriching hobby or field of study as in the sexual sense...I can feel strongly attracted to a lot of people, but this kind of passion is more complete and soul-encompassing) I've felt only a couple of times in my life (sets a rather difficult standard for the future) but dream about feeling again.

Pushing the Bruise

Ha, I commented on Facebook that I keep "pushing the bruise" but am getting better at doing it less. The reference is from a song by The Weepies. The last time I parted with someone I had fallen for, I referenced the song in an entry here.

The specific reference is:

I keep pushing the bruise
'cause I don't wanna lose
what I loved about you

When you no longer have any tangible form of the tenderness and, dare I say, love you both saw in someone's eyes and felt for them, when it's nothing but a cherished memory you didn't want to end but they did, the only feeling that approximates the sweetness and intensity is the conjured pain of the loss which in turn reminds you what it is you lost, or why it hurts so much.

But I haven't been doing it on my own: I've had "help". Photos from happy moments together. Triggers of memories, like a location, phrase, or little plastic toy from a cereal box on your car's dash (I threw it away yesterday). People expressing their sympathy. Songs which became anthems, of sorts, for the relationship, which now only remind you of what you've lost (my main one, for the last few weeks of the relationship, was Billy Joel's The Longest Time):

If you said goodbye to me tonight
There would still be music left to write
What else could I do
I'm so inspired by you
That hasn't happened for the longest time

Once I thought my innocence was gone
Now I know that happiness goes on
That's where you found me
When you put your arms around me
I haven't been there for the longest time

I'm that voice you're hearing in the hall
And the greatest miracle of all
Is how I need you
And how you needed me too
That hasn't happened for the longest time

Maybe this won't last very long
But you feel so right
And I could be wrong
Maybe I've been hoping too hard
But I've gone this far
And it's more than I hoped for

Who knows how much further we'll go on
Maybe I'll be sorry when you're gone
I'll take my chances
I forgot how nice romance is
I haven't been there for the longest time

I had second thoughts at the start
I said to myself
Hold on to your heart
Now I know the [person] that you are
You're wonderful so far
And it's more than I hoped for

I don't care what consequence it brings
I have been a fool for lesser things
I want you so bad
I think you ought to know that
I intend to hold you for the longest time

Then there are songs which take on new meaning after the break-up, much like songs came alive while you were together, but with a sting instead of that sunny feeling. Some songs are on still the sweet side of bittersweet, like Rachael Yamagata's I Wish You Love, which I originally heard on Prime, a movie I really like (it's bittersweet *wink*):

I wish you bluebirds in the spring
To give your heart a song to sing
And then a kiss, but more than this
I wish you love

And in July a lemonade
To cool you in some leafy glade
I wish you health
And more than wealth
I wish you love

My breaking heart and I agree
That you and I could never be
So with my best
My very best
I set you free

I wish you shelter from the storm
A cozy fire to keep you warm
But most of all when snowflakes fall
I wish you love

My breaking heart and I agree
That you and I could never be
So with my best
My very best
I set you free

When I posted that I keep pushing the bruise, it was after going to a friend's performance in The Scarlet Pimpernel. When the character Margeuerite started singing When I Look At You, I braced myself. Sitting by myself in the crowded theater where nobody knew me, I didn't much care if people saw me getting emotional over it, but I didn't want to make a scene. I didn't. Just some tears welling up in my eyes was all. As she sang, I identified because our last conversation was almost businesslike, like talking with a completely different version of the person I fell for with a similar but colder, detached voice, without the warmth, the trust, the light, or the familiarity to which I'd become so completely accustomed, a change which took place, as far as I know, in a matter of a day or two:

When I look at you, what I always see
Is the face of someone else who once belonged to me
Still I can hear him laugh
And even though that melody plays on, he's gone

When I look at you, he is standing there
I can almost breathe him in like summer in the air
Why do you smile his smile?
That heaven I'd forgotten eases through, in you

If you could look at me once more
With all the love you felt before
If you and I could disappear into the past
And find that love we knew
I'd never take my eyes away from you

When I look at you, he is touching me
I would reach for him, but who can hold a memory?
And love isn't everything
That moonlight on the bed will melt away, someday

Oh, you were once that someone
Who I followed like a star
Then suddenly you changed,
And now I don't know who you are

Or could it be that I never really knew you from the start?
Did I create a dream?
Was he a fantasy?
Even a memory is paradise for all the fools like me

Now, remembering is all that I can do
Because I miss him so, when I look at you

Yeah. I had to get a grip and chuckle at my own pathetic emotionality (pathetic in the "arousing pity, esp. through vulnerability or sadness" sense). As I leaned back to put myself behind the peripheral gaze of those next to me, I rested my cheek in my hand, which immediately reminded me of that cheek I loved to feel in my hand and the lips which always kissed my palm. I instinctively, without thinking, put my own lips in my palm and felt my heart skip a beat at the memory, and I immediately stopped when I realized I was conjuring the past, then sadly closed my hand in a loose fist as if you hold on to that feeling, to not replace that sensation with any other, to cherish it one last time. And I sighed and let go a little more, and it was OK.

At intermission, I sent a text to my friend in the show: "Ha, damn that 'When I Look At You' song!" During intermission and after the show, I had trouble not thinking about the lost relationship, being so geographically close but so infinitely distant. I laughed at myself as I thought I was waxing nearly as melodramatic as the show had in parts. And I posted my comment about pushing the bruise. I'm learning, and it's helping. But I'm not quite ready to let the bruise heal completely. Sue me, I'm not always the best at letting go.

Blocked by the opposite of writer's block?

I have so many thoughts milling about politics, religion, spirituality, relationships, social interactions, or whatnot and so many experiences this year that I can't keep up with them in writing. I'm not sure anyone who reads my blog is actually interested in most of the thoughts or daily goings-on, anyway. Or if they are, I'm not sure whether I can articulate them completely enough without the endeavor consuming my free time at the expense of job-hunting, relationships, or personal interests like photography. Balance is a bear.

I also would rather have personal conversations about these things than broadcast them here, because they've reached a point of depth, or sensitivity, or controversy, or whatever, that it's easier to focus on the universal here and approach the finer but more controversial points one-on-one as I talk with y'all personally.

And yet I want to be open to have these thoughts challenged politely and constructively by those with whom I don't normally get to talk or wouldn't dare approach the issues. I want input from those who don't have a large incentive to avoid rocking the boat, as it were, because they see me regularly and don't want to risk our relationship by threatening my security or having their own security threatened by the disagreement.

I don't want to hide these things, either. I don't mean to keep my perspectives a secret. I just prefer to explain them in full as I have opportunity to do so with individuals. So it's easier to leave it alone and just wear my universal hat here. Yet...my drive for authenticity makes this a tense game for me as it calls for increasing dialog and understanding through constructive conflict rather than fostering a false sense of harmony through universality.

Of course, there's the light and fluffy I enjoy sharing, too. It's just that this last year has been such an exploration of self and re-assessment of paradigms that I benefit from articulating it and hammering out the details, and there's so much to explain about where I've been and where I think I'm going. I guess I have a lifetime to philosophize, but it's the exploration, as much as or more than the destination, which fascinates me, so it's hard to set it aside even when I'm OK with not knowing everything now. And again, I want to catch you all up, but maybe I just can't. Maybe that's OK. You don't know what I've been up to or the memories I've been making with various people, you don't know my thoughts as I sit alone, you don't know my shifting paradigms on life, the universe, and everything, and you don't know the experiences, positive and negative, I've had this last month or two or ten. I just can't share it all. But I'll share as I can, and as I think is appropriate, and hey, one-on-one, I'll catch you up as much as you want. Y'know, most of my travel is to visit friends and family, and I'll answer most any question thrown at me. I'm rambling now. I do that.

The short update: I'm well. Life is good, my outlook is hopeful and skeptically optimistic, unemployment is coming to an end (I feel it in my bones), and I haven't been up to anything remarkably exciting, but I've been really enjoying my low-key life.

Good night!

Monogamy Schmonogamy?

I've thought quite a bit, over the past year, about relationships, monogamy, open relationships, arranged marriage, plural marriage, group marriage, etc. I've had a tough time wrapping my mind around ideas like open relationships and group marriages, including the one-sided (many women to one man) plural marriage (polygyny) practiced by early members of the LDS Church. While I can understand the possible, theoretical benefits of arrangements like open relationships and plural marriages, I always come back to the fact that I just want one special someone. People are so complex that I want to understand someone as fully as possible, not a bunch of someones "pretty well". I want to share memories with someone that are special and unique between us. I want to come home to the same person every day. I know there are no guarantees. Relationship strains, death, or other unpredictable circumstances necessitating geographic or emotional distance may wedge their way in. I understand that no one person can ever be everything to me and that I need many people in my life who understand the different facets of me or share my hobbies, interests, or goals. I hope to always have close friendships which access and support and enrich all aspects of me. But though I understand those things and realize I might lose that someone and start from scratch later, I want someone special, just one companion for life.

I think most people in the U.S. today "believe" monogamy is best, whether or not they're very good at it. I think many men (and some women), religious principles aside, would tend to want sexually open relationships, but when they believe they'll lose the emotionally intimate relationship they may have with a partner or spouse, they are compelled to rein in their appetites, and they make trade-offs. Monogamy is spoken of as the ultimate in companionship: it takes work, dedication, self-discipline, and commitment. It requires sacrifice and a beautiful dedication of one's self to one person. We quote scripture, that man is not to be alone, that a man and a woman are to be forged into one flesh, leaving all else to dedicate themselves to each other. There's something powerful in the psychology of knowingly giving up future lust or love for the one love you most want and are dedicating yourself to. Assuming it doesn't turn to resentment, there's an investment that encourages fidelity and is made the more sacred by the singular dedication. Among most Christians, monogamy is laudable while any form of open or plural marriage is condemnable as licentious and a mockery of a sacred institution.

You might think that LDS people, coming from a culture in which plural marriage was practiced in their history, would be more open to the idea of group marriages, at the very least polygyny. But most LDS people I know abhor the idea of plural marriage. Most find it repulsive and believe it would truly be a test of their faith if they were asked to practice it. Most I know also say they'd pray about it and at least consider complying if the prophet were to reinstate "the principle", but they admit they don't know if they could do it and hope and pray to never be asked to.

Cultural and societal ideas about relationships seem to be thoroughly convoluted, and perspectives from various groups seem contradictory of each other, sometimes even somewhat self-contradictory (such as those who insist marriage isn't about love but is about raising children, and then they say it's abhorrent that some cultures practice "arranged" marriages). It's no wonder there's so much debate about what "marriage" is, what it's for, and whether westerners have severely overly-romanticized notions about committed relationships and unions.

I've wondered why polygamy was ever outlawed in the first place. Because it was immoral? Because it was harmful to society? Because government and insurance companies didn't want the hassle of providing tax benefits and coverage to 8 wives and 53 children? Was it easier to just outlaw the practice than to deal with its ramifications? Is plural marriage bad for children? Can anyone prove that beyond occasional studies? Was it because polygyny treated women unequally? If so, why not open up polyandry instead of banning all forms of polygamy? Why is having more than one spouse illegal? What about it is against the Constitution or stomps on anyone else's rights? What about it damages society? We all know it can be practiced badly--forced marriages, young girls persuaded or compelled to marry older men, incestuous society in which nobody dares speak up against abuses and wrong-doing--but those are problems of execution and results of religious beliefs in practice, not evils of the practice of polygamy itself. But societies are fond of making things illegal rather than addressing the issues around them. It's much easier to just slap criminality on an unpopular practice than to deal with the consequences, nevermind whether the practice itself is actually a problem. That's understandable (though I'm not sure I can say it's "right") in emergency situations, but shouldn't the consequences be dealt with, then irrational laws repealed? How much time can go by before the people forget that it wasn't always that way, and possibly irrational laws are assumed to be "how things have always been"?

In exploring some of the questions around marriage in all its forms, I came across a couple of web sites and LDS scholarly forums which referenced quotes from early LDS Church leaders regarding the practice of plural marriage and the "system" of monogamy. I think such statements would give most members of the church pause (though bear in mind I haven't personally verified more than a couple of these by looking up the reference):

“It is a fact worthy of note that the shortest lived nations of which we have record have been monogamic. Rome…was a monogamic nation and the numerous evils attending that system early laid the foundation for that ruin which eventually overtook her.”
- Apostle George Q. Cannon, Journal of Discourses, Vol. 13, p. 202

“The founders of that ancient empire were robbers and women stealers, and made laws favoring monogamy in consequence of the scarcity of women among them, and hence this monogamic system which now prevails throughout Christendom, and which had been so fruitful a source of prostitution and whoredom throughout all the Christian monogamic cities of the Old and New World, until rottenness and decay are at the root of their institutions both national and religious.”
- The Prophet Brigham Young Journal of Discourses, Vol. 11, p. 128

“…the one-wife system not only degenerates the human family, both physically and intellectually, but it is entirely incompatible with philosophical notions of immortality; it is a lure to temptation, and has always proved a curse to a people.”
- Prophet John Taylor, Millennial Star, Vol. 15, p. 227

“Monogamy, or restrictions by law to one wife, is no part of the economy of heaven among men. Such a system was commenced by the founders of the Roman empire….Rome became the mistress of the world, and introduced this order of monogamy wherever her sway was acknowledged. Thus this monogamic order of marriage, so esteemed by modern Christians as a holy sacrament and divine institution, is nothing but a system established by a set of robbers…. Why do we believe in and practice polygamy? Because the Lord introduced it to his servants in a revelation given to Joseph Smith, and the Lord’s servants have always practiced it. ‘And is that religion popular in heaven?’ it is the only popular religion there,…”
- The Prophet Brigham Young, The Deseret News, August 6, 1862

“This law of monogamy, or the monogamic system, laid the foundation for prostitution and the evils and diseases of the most revolting nature and character under which modern Christendom groans,…”
- Apostle Orson Pratt, Journal of Discourses, Vol. 13, page 195

“We breathe the free air, we have the best looking men and handsomest women, and if they (Non-Mormons) envy us our position, well they may, for they are a poor, narrow-minded, pinch-backed race of men, who chain themselves down to the law of monogamy, and live all their days under the dominion of one wife. They ought to be ashamed of such conduct, and the still fouler channel which flows from their practices; and it is not to be wondered at that they should envy those who so much better understand the social relations.”
- Apostle George A Smith, Journal of Discourses, Vol. 3, page 291

“I have noticed that a man who has but one wife, and is inclined to that doctrine, soon begins to wither and dry up, while a man who goes into plurality [of wives] looks fresh, young, and sprightly. Why is this? Because God loves that man, and because he honors his word. Some of you may not believe this, but I not only believe it but I also know it. For a man of God to be confined to one woman is small business. I do not know what we would do if we had only one wife apiece.”
- Apostle Heber C. Kimball, Journal of Discourses Vol 5, page 22

“Just ask yourselves, historians, when was monogamy introduced on to the face of the earth? When those buccaneers, who settled on the peninsula where Rome now stands, could not steal women enough to have two or three apiece, they passed a law that a man should have but one woman. And this started monogamy and the downfall of the plurality system. In the days of Jesus, Rome, having dominion over Jerusalem, they carried out the doctrine more or less. This was the rise, start and foundation of the doctrine of monogamy; and never till then was there a law passed, that we have any knowledge of, that a man should have but one wife. ”
- The Prophet Brigham Young, Journal of Discourses Vol. 12, page 262

A couple of these statements are not, in fact, declarations over the pulpit, but writings or speeches given in other contexts. It's easy, today, to take a fairly black-and-white approach to these statements, such as, "It was correct to practice it then because the Lord said so, but circumstances changed, and the practice is forbidden now," or, "that was clearly a matter of policy, not doctrine, and the brethren did their best to explain the principle with what had been revealed to them."

I believe many LDS scholars still insist those prophetic statements still stand, within their own context, and are maybe even doctrinal, and that we all must be willing, even today, to engage in plural marriage if the law of the land and church were changed, and we were asked to, or we would be defying God's will. As far as I can tell, some believe it's true that monogamy is only a shade of the true order of heaven, but that we're compelled into it by the laws of the land, and the true order of heaven includes polygyny. Assuming there is a God who creates numberless spirit children who will exist in their current relationships into eternity, I wonder: what don't we know about that yet? Does God create more "female" spirits than "male" to preserve the practice of polygyny? Do fewer males achieve exaltation, leaving more females to be partnered? What if there are more Celestial males than females at some point? Will there be polyandry, too, and we're just not ready to face that? Of course, there are so many assumptions underlying all of this...

To those of you who cherish your monogamous marriages and disdain the idea of a plural marriage, imagine yourself in the days of Brigham Young or John Taylor: how do you respond to the prophetic declarations that your perspective on marriage is small-minded, damning, and associated with whoredom and the downfall of society? How do you distinguish doctrine from policy without your current hindsight? How do you defend your current notion that monogamy is best? Do you insist you're right for yourself, and they were just speaking the best they knew how from their cultural perspective? Do you shrug and say it's your own weakness that makes you too jealous to share your spouse with someone else or too frail to invest energy sufficient for more than one spouse? Do you bow to the notion that monogamy is a sign that we live in a fallen society? Do you praise certain Muslim or LDS-offshoot communities for their willingness and self-discipline to practice plural marriages and acknowledge your inferiority next to them in at least that respect? Do you believe you should be willing to practice plural marriage if asked but hope never to be asked?

I'm just not convinced I'm a selfish, fallen, small-minded, downfall-of-society-promoting guy for wanting a monogamous relationship, nor am I convinced that cultures which accept and embrace monogamy are engaging in a "system" which will lead to the fall of empires. Call me a heathen. I can take it.

Brideshead illustrates my fear

I finally finished watching the BBC version of Brideshead Revisited, all 11 episodes. I still also like the more recent version with Matthew Goode, Emma Thompson, and others, but this one brought out so much more complexity and nuance in the story. Something that stood out to me is the power of religious faith in people's lives and the unlikelihood that most people will ever fully let go of it or escape the voices of their past, telling them of sin and grace.

SPOILER ALERT: Most poignant, to me, was the crisis of the relationship between Charles and Julia, Charles being an atheist-leaning agnostic, and rather staunch and even arrogant about it, and Julia being a free-spirited and wayward Catholic woman who nonetheless retains a notion that she is, in the end, a sinner and will have to repent or pay at some point. This difference seems a side note in their relationship, a point of some mild friction but nothing to end the relationship over. In fact, they each turn away from other relationships and lives to come together, against the criticism and dismay of her family, who insist it is a relationship begotten in sin and incapable of being blessed by God, since they can't be married by a priest.

There's a reflective and poignant conversation between Charles and Julia's brother and sister, Bridey and Cordelia, in which Charles challenges their notion that their dying father must receive last rites from a priest in order to be saved from his life of faithless abandon. They insist he must show an act of will and contrition before he dies, and he illustrates that if their father has the will, the priest is secondary and not the crux, and they end in a bit of a stalemate. But in the end, the "just in case" wins out over doubts of faith, and their father participates in the rites before passing away, which challenges Charles' confident assertion that it's all hogwash, and he, too, joins in a prayer of mercy from God, in case God exists, and in case mercy is needed. He realizes he, too, has doubts about whether it's all truly "bosh" as he has claimed so often.

With his deep realization of what this family's religion means to them, of how pervasive it is in their being, and of the probability that he's been too dismissive, this experience hammers home the suspicion he's been fighting all along: that he is asking Julia to choose between him and something that is equally or more interwoven into her. They have the following conversation--their last--on the steps of Brideshead, the family home where it all began and ended:


---------------------------------------------------------
Julia: ...We have on the stairs a minute to say goodbye

Charles: So long to say so little.

Julia: You knew?

Charles: Since this morning. Since before this morning, all this year.

Julia: I didn't know 'til today. ...Oh my dear, if you could only understand, then I could bear to part, or bear it better. I'd say my heart were breaking if I believed in broken hearts. I can't marry you, Charles. I can't be with you ever again.

Charles: I know.

Julia: How can you know?

Charles: ...What'll you do?

Julia: Just go on. Alone. How can I tell what I shall do? You know the whole of me. You know I'm not one for a life of mourning. I've always been bad. Probably I shall be bad again. Punished again. But the worse I am, the more I need God. I can't shut myself out from his mercy. That is what it would mean, starting a life with you: without Him. ...One can only see one step ahead, but I saw today there's one thing unforgivable--like things in the schoolroom so bad they're unpunishable, that only Mummy could deal with--the bad thing I was on the point of doing that I'm not quite bad enough to do: to set up a rival good to God's. It may be because of Mummy, Nanny, Sebastian, Cordelia, ...perhaps Bridey and Mrs. Muspratt, keeping my name in their prayers. Or it may be a private bargain between me and God that if I give up this one thing I want so much, however bad I am, he won't quite despair of me in the end. ...Now we shall both be alone. And I shall have no way of making you understand.

Charles: I don't want to make it easy for you. I hope your heart may break. But I do understand.
---------------------------------------------------------

I fear having that same conversation. It seems an all-too-likely scene in which to find myself years from now, and it's hard to imagine taking a risk that I may be sitting on the steps, knowing that I understand so very well that I can't say anything in rebuttal because even if I have worked it out and reconciled for myself, I know that no amount of explanation, or prodding, or pleading from anyone could have brought me here before I was ready. And I can't promise with 100% confidence that I will never make the same turn back and be the one saying, "I'm not quite bad enough to...set up a rival good to God's," nor can anyone else honestly. So the only option in such a case would be to let go, to love someone enough to not demand they choose damnation, even only in their own mind, for me. I wouldn't cling to someone at their detriment, but I'm afraid of being someone's sacrifice to prove their will to a God whom they believe demands such of them. I don't want to be laid on the altar and left as a holy offering by those I've grown to love and into whom I've invested everything. In those moments, the idea that we have eternity to develop relationships and this life to prove our will can become a comforting balm, even with its often accompanying rejections and reprimands, so it's not hard to understand why someone would choose as Julia did.

There are no guarantees, though. So I guess it's one step at a time, knowing the risks, learning from experience to refine and strengthen me, trusting in what I believe and/or hope is possible, doing the best I can with what I do know, and trying not to let my fear keep me "safely" locked up.

You Deserve Better

Another note to self because I think you've forgotten at times and have recently been reminded: you deserve someone willing to talk openly and deal sensitively and patiently with you the way you try to with others. You deserve someone who's willing to weather the hard times and the rainy days of the relationship because they understand there's value in it even when it's not easy and fun. You deserve someone who loves and appreciates you because of who you are, how you treat people, and what you bring to a relationship, not just because of appearances or what kind of fun they can have with your body and/or resources. You deserve someone whose life is generally in harmony with what they claim to believe, who doesn't hide behind compartmentalization but strives for integrity. You deserve someone who cares about you as much as or more than they do themselves. You deserve someone who is honest with you and ultimately willing to tell you anything you might ask. You deserve someone who sees in you, with all your flaws, a beautiful and attractive person. You deserve someone who wants a synergistic wholeness of intimacy but is happy to hold out on sexual intimacy because having you in their life matters more than getting themselves off.

It may seem arrogant or self-serving to say "you deserve", but you deserve everything you're willing and/or able to offer, nothing less. You may not be the easiest person for most people to have a relationship with, but you're not most people, and you deserve to be with someone who brings out the best in you. You're sincere, and you're concerned for others, and you're committed. No more selling yourself short or convincing yourself there's more to what they're feeling than there is to satisfy your fantasy. Read the signs. Talk about it. Don't waste time flirting with consolation prizes and fillers. They just distract you from not only finding the real thing but from deepening your more valuable friendships while piddling away your emotional investment on those who will squander it. You won't always know, immediately, but walk away without regret when the blinders come off, and you realize you were wrong about the relationship.

These traits are not just personality differences: they're essential components of the kind of relationship you want and need. Walk away if they're not there. Some might say, referring to romantic companionship, that any relationship is better than no relationship, but you know very well that quality, intimate friendships and family bonds without romantic companionship are much better than a distrustful or otherwise non-intimate convenience-based or sexually-motivated companionship. It's about time to put away childish things...

Hunches

...I sometimes wish they were wrong more often. But unfortunately, those wary hunches...they're usually confirmed.

When something seems rather awry with a person or in a relationship, it is. It's not me being crazy or overly suspicious or imagining things. I try to offer some benefit of doubt, remain open to the possibility that I'm just not understanding something or being too critical. But I'm learning to start trusting my red flag hunches more. When the puzzle doesn't seem to fit, some pieces are probably missing. Give it time: they'll come together slowly, and the pieces are often hidden away for a reason.

I always tell myself not to judge too hastily. You never know the full story, and sometimes people just are different and view life differently from me, and I can't necessarily understand their motives, nor do I know what else is behind the scenes that I don't know about. And that's true. But it's a little disconcerting how often I've said, "I don't know...there's something about him/her that I can't put my finger on but just doesn't sit right," and found out later that there was definitely a reason for that. Past hunches have consistently been confirmed by information incidentally uncovered weeks, months, or years later. I'm not an overly suspicious guy in general, so why should it be surprising that I wasn't making up the suspicions?

Note to self: trust your hunches more often. Still learn to communicate better and deal with emotions better, then give people a chance to respond, see how they'll communicate, what information they'll volunteer, what remains unsaid or defended against. Don't settle for a relationship full of hunches. You deserve better. If clearing the hunches is like pulling teeth, get out.

Smitten And Stifled

I'm not often smitten. I may notice hotties, I may feel flirty, and I may admire people, but I'm rarely "into" someone enough to feel that dancing, all-is-well feeling, feel totally at ease doing anything, comfortable talking about anything or enjoying silence together. It's not often I'm wholly attracted to someone who seems a possibly great complement to myself with the most important things in common. Someone who makes me want to step carefully so as to not mess up my chances of developing a healthy relationship with them to see what might be there beyond giddy feelings and the hope that they're every bit as great as they seem to be. Someone to whom I'm very much attracted and with whom I'd like to be closer. Someone with whom I'd be more physically expressive but also want to pace physical affection to develop a quality relationship. Someone I think about all day after a great day together. Someone who has similar values to mine and whose opinions, desires, and principles I respect and learn from. Someone who communicates openly without all the games so many people play. Someone who not only makes me smile to myself just thinking about them and excited about getting to know each other but who reminds me what it's like to feel like there's very possibly someone out there for me with whom I'd be a natural fit in the most important ways.

Feeling that way for someone is refreshing. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever feel that way again, at my ripe old age. And then I do, and I find they feel the same way, even if it seems a bit premature for us to be so interested. And it confirms that I'm not completely jaded, that I'm not too skeptical to hope with an almost childlike brightness. With lessons learned, I know not to place excessive stock in those feelings, but I love it when they return. I love it when someone enters my life who brings that out of me while renewing my hope in quality, romantic prospects for my unusual self. I love getting to know each other and starting to bring out the best in each other. The idea of pursuing that, with a clearly mutual attraction to boot, to see what we can make of it is both scary and joyful.

But it's mostly an idea so far. When such a person is again not an "option", it's hard to put all those feelings back on the shelf after having dusted them off cautiously, reluctantly eager to have them back. Life circumstances, social pressures, differences in maturity, geographic distance, or other issues make it clear that, though we might potentially be really right for each other and fit beautifully together, there may or may not ever be a place and time to find out, but what's decided is that the place and time is not here or now. I've been quite content with my life lately, so even after this rekindling of romantic feelings, I can accept letting go of it again for now, not that it's been especially easy or without tears and heartache. I just try to take the disappointment and heartache of quelling the attraction and turn it into hope that if I found one such person, maybe one of these days, when the time is right, the stars will align.

Until then, to the one who smote me so suddenly and unexpectedly, it's been beautiful feeling for you the way I have, and feeling your interest in me, however briefly, and I hope to find it again, whether with you when we're both ready or with someone else with whom circumstances allow it to be explored, and I wish the same for you. Thanks for the spark of light, for hope, for the connection, for being wise and mature enough to recognize now wasn't the time, for the start of a potentially great friendship when/if the more intense attraction wanes, for being you and coming into my life.

Unforgiving

I'm thinking I'm really patient with people in many ways but really slow to truly forgive and let go. When I lose trust in someone, I can't seem to get over it. I can interact with them. We may hang out casually in groups. I may wish I felt the affection for them I used to feel. I may respect many things about them. I may still feel fondly for the person I knew and loved before things went south. But I've never gone back to feeling "close" with such a person, able to fully trust them again.

I tend to think trustworthiness is a matter of character. A person may be sincere, goodhearted, intelligent, and even generally kind, but if I can't trust them, I can't feel close to them, and if I decide I trusted someone too much too fast, I struggle to backpedal to a more casual friendship and often am more comfortable walking away entirely. The trouble is that I then feel unforgiving and even petty because I have other friends I know would probably betray trust if I gave it to them, but I am still able to have casual and fun interaction with them, maybe because I've never given them the trust I've given others. I wonder if my attitudes and decisions are defense mechanisms against risking getting hurt or if they're a wise practice of "fool me once, shame on you: fool me twice, shame on me."

I have a couple of friends who were, at one point, somewhat "more than friends", and I got burned in different ways. We both made bad calls, but I was the one who ended up hurt. In other cases, we were just friends, and this or that happened, and I lost respect for them in some way, they did something deceptive or cruel (whether to me or to someone else), or in some cases, they just turned out to be more "human" than I wanted to believe (which of course is more about my perceptions and judgment than anything). When I see them, I wish I felt affection for them still. I wish I could embrace them again with the warmth I once felt. I wish changed circumstances and water under the bridge allowed for me to see them in as I once did, or at least without the baggage, focusing on the positive. I wish time and distance erased the bitter taste in my mouth. I wish I could trust the lingering desire to embrace all the good I saw in them and let go of the traits and behaviors which affected me so much. And yet, another part of me thinks it would be completely foolish to pretend things were the same. They can't be. What happened happened and can't be erased. So the trick is moving forward with the changes.

To some extent, time does heal. For me, we're talking at least a year in many cases. But even when I no longer have a visceral or emotional reaction to seeing or interacting with someone, the warmth is banished. I remember the things I love about them, and I remember the affection I used to feel, but I won't allow myself to be vulnerable to them again, and I therefore feel detached, somewhat cold towards people I thought, in some cases, would be lifelong friends.

With some of these, most of them, I want badly to love them again as friends and good people, I want to tell them I would like to trust them again but don't know how, I want to explain that I don't hate or dislike them but don't know what to do with them anymore, where to fit them in my life, how to get over my detachment, or whether I even should. I want to talk it through with them, but in most cases, the time for that kind of talking has past.

In some cases, I walk away and don't look back. I don't need to. I'm finished, and the friendship's usefulness and meaning is in the past. Sure, we can keep in touch here and there in a civil way, but I don't need or want more. In other cases, they probably don't know how fondly I felt for them, how much I appreciated them, or what potential I saw in them. In some cases, they don't know how much respect I've lost for them, or why I can see they're sincere now but can't forget that they seemed sincere before, too.

I think the reason it's hard for me is that I did love them, probably still do, maybe always will, but don't feel "safe" entrusting them with much anymore. And I won't play the cavalier, chummy games so many seem to play once that is the case.

But I'm trying to work through this and recognize where it's my own perceptions getting in the way. I'm trying to remember friendships where I have betrayed trust in some way, or where I've unintentionally sent mixed signals, or where I've withheld part of myself out of fear or insecurity, or entertained someone's feelings for me unintentionally without returning those feelings. In the process of maturing--a process I'm obviously still working through--I've made mistakes, and forgiving friends have stuck by me, and we've built meaningful relationships. I wonder if I haven't done the same in forgiving and bearing with some. I fear if everyone responded to my foibles the way I've responded to those of others, I might have no friends left. So I'm trying to learn to let go, to move on. I think it's unnecessary and foolish to give the remote control of my emotions back to those who have used it poorly, but I'm looking for a way to move forward more quickly in forgiving and in wisely choosing which friendships are worth holding on to and which are best left in the past, and learning to move on without bitterness, without wishing it had been different.

Maybe these are universal concerns, or maybe I'm unusually distrustful or sensitive in certain ways. But something tells me I have a thing or two to learn in this arena. Does anyone have a handbook to refer me to? :-)

Nice Guys

I just read this and loved it, so I'm reposting it here, with the language edited out because I know some of you might stop reading because of it. It's a letter to women written on Craig's List, of all places, by a "recovering nice guy" to address their classic question: "What happened to all the nice guys?" Of course, it seems to be coming from a very bitter guy who, for all I know, is some creep who's bitter at women for rejecting him when he's never made an effort to be anything other than a smelly, lazy, slob who has no ambition in life other than to try to emotionally guilt women into loving him by being emotionally available so he can hold it over their heads. But even so, what he says is funny and too true to me because I have seen people do just this: ask where all the nice guys/girls are when they clearly have been choosing people based on "other" criteria than those which would help them find the "nice" ones. Heck, I've wondered if I've been doing that, myself. I think a similar argument, slightly tweaked, can probably be made for the way guys treat girls, not to mention guys towards guys. Anyway, read on for a head-nodding chuckle:


-------------------------------------
"What Happened to All the Nice Guys?"

Date: 2007-11-19, 3:52AM PST

I see this question posted with some regularity in the personals section, so I thought I'd take a minute to explain things to the ladies out there that haven't figured it out.

What happened to all the nice guys?

The answer is simple: you did.

See, if you think back, really hard, you might vaguely remember a Platonic guy pal who always seemed to want to spend time with you. He'd tag along with you when you went shopping, stop by your place for a movie when you were lonely but didn't feel like going out, or even sit there and hold you while you sobbed and told him about how horribly the (other) guy that you were [schtupping] treated you.

At the time, you probably joked with your girlfriends about how he was a little puppy dog, always following you around, trying to do things to get you to pay attention to him. They probably teased you because they thought he had a crush on you. Given that his behavior was, admittedly, a little pathetic, you vehemently denied having any romantic feelings for him, and buttressed your position by claiming that you were "just friends." Besides, he totally wasn't your type. I mean, he was a little too short, or too bald, or too fat, or too poor, or didn't know how to dress himself, or basically be or do any of the things that your tall, good-looking, fit, rich, stylish boyfriend at the time pulled off with such ease.

Eventually, your Platonic buddy drifted away, as your relationship with the boyfriend got more serious and spending time with this other guy was, admittedly, a little weird, if you werent dating him. More time passed, and the boyfriend eventually cheated on you, or became boring, or you realized that the things that attracted you to him weren't the kinds of things that make for a good, long-term relationship. So, now, you're single again, and after having tried the bar scene for several months having only encountered players and douche bags, you wonder, "What happened to all the nice guys?"

Well, once again, you did.

You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind, with physical intimacy. You laughed at his consideration and resented his devotion. You valued the aloof boyfriend more than the attentive "just-a-" friend. Eventually, he took the hint and moved on with his life. He probably came to realize, one day, that women aren't really attracted to guys who hold doors open; or make dinners just because; or buy you a Christmas gift that you mentioned, in passing, that you really wanted five months ago; or listen when you're upset; or hold you when you cry. He came to realize that, if he wanted a woman like you, he'd have to act more like the boyfriend that you had. He probably cleaned up his look, started making some money, and generally acted like more of [a jerk] than he ever wanted to be.

Fact is, now, he's probably getting laid, and in a way, your ultimate rejection of him is to thank for that. And I'm sorry that it took the complete absence of "nice guys" in your life for you to realize that you missed them and wanted them. Most women will only have a handful of nice guys stumble into their lives, if that.

So, if you're looking for a nice guy, here's what you do:

1.) Build a time machine.
2.) Go back a few years and pull your head out of your [rectum].
3.) Take a look at what's right in front of you and grab ahold of it.

I suppose the other possibility is that you STILL don't really want a nice guy, but you feel the social pressure to at least appear to have matured beyond your infantile taste in men. In which case, you might be in luck, because the nice guy you claim to want has, in reality, shed his nice guy mantle and is out there looking to unleash his cynicism and resentment onto someone just like you.

If you were five years younger.

So, please: either stop misrepresenting what you want, or own up to the fact that you've [screwed] yourself over. You're getting older, after all. It's time to excise the [bull] and deal with reality. You didn't want a nice guy then, and he certainly doesn't ---- want you, now.

Sincerely,

A Recovering Nice Guy

Brain Fascination

OK, so I'm finally getting around to reading a book I bought several months ago: The Happiness Hypothesis. I wrote a blog entry mentioning it a while back, and I've started to read it a couple of times, but I've finally made it past page 8. ...Yes, this is typical for me. I want knowledge, but I don't like to read. It's a sad dilemma.

Anyway, the first chapter has gone into human dichotomies and, as part of the exposition, an explanation of the right and left brains and studies done on patients whose corpus callosum had been severed or damaged and how they responded to...OK, I'll try to explain briefly. The author says a researcher would flash an image to the right or left of a dot the subject was asked to focus on. The images were flashed long enough to register in the brain but not long enough for the subject to take their eyes off of the dot to examine the image. If flashed on the right, the image was processed by the left hemisphere of the brain (because the light from the image entered the left side of the retina, yadda yadda yadda) which is responsible for language, and when asked what the image was, the subject would answer: for example, "hat". But if the image was flashed on the left, it was processed by the right half of the brain which has no language processing, so when asked what they saw, they answered, "Nothing." But if they were asked to point to which image they were shown on a piece of paper, they could point to it. Weird! Then, the researcher flashed two images simultaneously. One image was to the left of the dot, the other to the right. In one example, he flashed a chicken claw to the right and a snow-covered house and car to the left. When asked to point to which image corresponded with what they'd been shown, the subjects pointed to a chicken with their right hand and a shovel with their left. When asked why they chose what they did, they didn't answer, as one might expect, "I don't know why I'm pointing to the shovel. Must have something to do with what you showed my right brain." They answered that the chicken claw goes with the chicken, and the shovel was to clean out the chicken shed."

Wow. So essentially, the left brain interpreted the association the best it knew how by making up a connection. Granted, this phenomenon only applies to people whose left and right brain have been cut off from each other by brain damage or surgery, not to normal people, but I couldn't help but wonder how many quirks about people might be explainable if we only knew their brain make-up. Another example it gave was a school teacher who had a brain tumor and, quite suddenly, began propositioning young women randomly. When his tumor was removed, his behavior stopped. It was found that this tumor was interfering with portions of the brain which inhibit behaviors and process consequences. Can this happen on a more subtle level? Do some people have greater ability to predict the consequences of their actions? Do some have less inhibition because of brain activity or lack thereof? Are some more able to see themselves objectively than others?

On a related note, I also was fascinated, last week, by a fascinating interview on NPR about memory and our tendency to see and remember things within a framework that most makes sense given what we know within our current paradigms. One of my favorite parts, because we all know one of them, is the lady who called in saying her sister has a tendency to share other people's memories as her own:



In addition to the very personal, practical application of remembering that we all have our strengths and shortcomings and can't expect everyone to see or behave the same way, all of this has me really interested in the brain and its physiology in relation to emotion, psychology, and the rest of the body. I've been thinking a bit more about what I want to do with myself professionally, so I guess this is just sneaking in as a possible area of interest I had previously overlooked but which now seems kind of obvious... Now the question: is it too late for me to start into such an involved, specialized field? Ugh, maybe it's best as a point of interest rather than a possible career. I don't know. Have to look at it.



Incidentally, I found the following stories while trying to find the one above, and they look interesting, too:

• 'Memory: Remembering and Forgetting in Everyday Life'
• Why Does Time Fly By As You Get Older?
• Biological Basis for False Memories Revealed
• Learning, Memory and the Brain
• The Surprising Strengths Of The Middle-Aged Brain
• E-Memory and Human Nature

Experimentation

While house-sitting for my bro, I'm also dog-sitting, and when you give the dog his dinner, you tell him to sit, then put the food in his kennel, then tell him, "OK," and he runs in to eat. He's a very obedient dog, so it's kind of comical sometimes when he's really eager to eat and you can tell he really doesn't want to wait for the "OK" but is patiently sitting anyway. It sparked an idea.

I wanted to see how he would respond to subtle variations on the usual routine, which takes place three times a day. So the second day, I said, "O-" and stopped before saying "K", just to see what he'd do. He started to get up but immediately caught himself and looked at me with eager anticipation. I said, "K" and he ran into the kennel. I laughed with hearty fascination. The next day, I just made a noise that sounded vaguely like, "OK". That seemed to be enough, and off he went. The next day, I just motioned with my hand and off he went. Next, I said, "OK" very monotonously and slowly. No response. I said, "OK" in the normal, fast way but being very careful not to give any nonverbal cues like nodding my head or motioning with my hand or even making eye contact. Off he went. Very interesting. I'd decided not to test him more than once a day (today's second test, which I'm about to mention, being unintentional) because I didn't want to disturb the routine too much or grey the cues for him. I was just intrigued as to what, exactly, he considered the green light. Was it the tone? The word? The nonverbal movements? All of the above?

So today, I started to wave him in, and he was so eager that as soon as I brought my hand up and said, "O-" he started running towards his kennel, but I said, "Stay!" and he stopped and sat. I think he realized I hadn't finished. I said, "OK," and off he went.

After that last incident, I thought to myself, "Good grief, he's probably getting really tired of being tested with variations on the command. The poor guy just wants to eat!" and I figured I should probably stop experimenting on the little (big) dude. It's just that when I get a question in my head, I want to explore the answers, and if it involves experimentation, better yet, so I examine and pinpoint, testing from different angles, experimenting with different stimuli and responses... Thinking about this, I realized: I do this, probably even on a subconscious level, with just about everything, including relationships with people.

I get bored, in a way. On one hand, it's enough to just be with people I care about and enjoy time together, but on the other hand, I always want to understand them on increasingly deeper levels, particularly if I find them interesting. So I act this way or that and test their responses, ask probing questions, challenge their statements to see what's behind them... It's a curse, but it's a curse I rather enjoy entertaining. Unfortunately, I probably wear some people out that way. They just want to "be", and I'm always subtly poking and prodding and testing and exploring because that's what makes life interesting to me. Sometimes I just want to be, not have to defend myself or debate, and even I get annoyed being on the other end of it, so certainly people who are less analytical get utterly fed up!

...I guess what I'm saying is I should probably learn to rein it in a bit and recognize when my poking and prodding is too steady and incessant, and I should deliberately force myself to stop testing people to give them a breather more often. And regardless of however well I learn to manage that tendency, I'll probably need to be with someone who enjoys being poked. ...You know what I mean.

Alone at Smitty's

I had brunch/lunch with a friend at Smitty's on Broadway...that's in Idaho Falls. During the course of lunch, I noticed the clientele was mostly decidedly higher in age than myself. There were groups and couples of elderly people, and a few pairings of friends. And then there was the fellow who sort of hobbled in and was greeted by name enthusiastically by the hostess, who asked him which of the girls he'd like to serve him today. I smiled wryly.

Then there was the elderly woman sitting at a table by herself. She smiled when speaking with her server, and when she was just sitting there, she just looked...quiet. She seemed like a regular from my casual observation. I wondered if this was part of her daily or Monday routine. No wedding ring, I wondered if she at least had family or friends in the area. Perhaps she did have friends and family and generally saw them a few times a week, and this just happened to be one of the few times she had to herself to enjoy a peaceful meal. But she had a sort of resigned look about her which I couldn't help but wonder about. Was she lonely? Was this what her social interaction was like? Did she live alone and go to the diner as her way of being around people? Did she look around the room at the happy groupings of people connecting and laughing together and push away feelings of loneliness? Had she been single all her life and was all-too-familiar with loneliness, numb by now? I chose to stop wondering because I didn't know what I could do even if she was lonely, and I didn't want to speculate.

But one thing I do know: when I talk to people who are lonely, or when I see people I know don't have family or friends, especially elderly people spending the sunset of their lives alone, my heart aches so much, and I wish I could do something to help them. There are few things that tug at my ol' heart strings more than people genuinely feeling unloved or unlovable or resigning themselves to life without meaningful connection. I know I can't fill the void or fix a lifetime of neglect of or ineptitude in relationships. I don't feel responsible for anyone's happiness, and I know those who care about me wouldn't want me feeling obligated or tied down on their account, but I want to do what I can to keep anyone I care about from being utterly lonely or just having nobody to go to lunch or dinner with.

Do You Know What It's Like?

Sometimes, cheesy musicals make people cry unexpectedly. Or maybe just me. Tonight, I was reminded of such a musical I saw last year in Seattle: Zanna Don't. I enjoyed it much more than I expected I would, but I'm not going to post music from it because to be honest, I don't think it's especially...great, but it's one of those things that works in context, and there's one part in particular that got me: yes, I got all teary. I was so surprised to hear my thoughts articulated in a way I hadn't ever heard from anyone else that it was kind of like a sucker punch to the gut, sending me right back into that situation:

Do you know what it's like
Not to be in love with you,
Not to have my heart obey
What my mind wants to be true?
Do you know what it's like
Not to be in love with you,
But to like you, love you, cherish you,
idolize you and protect you?
Do you know what it's like to look into your eyes
And see what I know you don't see in mine
Though I pray it might be so the whole night through?
Do you know what it's like
to have to let go of your hand
and to start another life, a life I don't understand,
and live the rest of my life knowing how much I've hurt you?
Oh, do you know?

It may be that you have to truly sympathize with those lyrics to understand my reaction as this was sung to a character who had just expressed their love and the pain and difficulty of coming to terms with it not being fully returned. But even tonight, as I read them for the first time in many months, it choked me up a bit because I couldn't help but go back to when that was all fresh, when I didn't know what to say, felt so confused about what I was and was not feeling, and wondered how many I'd end up so caring for but hurting in the end. Fortunately, the one or two I'd have said this to, if I'd known how to say it, have found happiness with others since, and I'm genuinely happy for them. Looking back, even though my story is still unclear, and I don't believe all similar situations must have the same outcome, I'm glad things have worked out the way they have. But it still "gets me", stupid sappy musical. Good thing the musical didn't take itself too seriously and went right back into silliness right after this song, or I would probably resent it and never admit to its ability to elicit an emotional response. :-)

The Demise of Friendship?

Someone posted an article on Facebook (ironically enough) about the change in or decline of friendship as a cultural phenomenon, particularly as it relates to trends perpetuated (or reflected?) by such social networking sites as Facebook and MySpace. I think everyone interested in "real" relationships but wondering why they can't seem to really connect with others should read it:

Faux Friendship

I agree with so much of what the author is saying about the nature of friendship and how real intimacy seems to be on the decline, and how the loss of classical, or romantic, friendship, the kind about which poets used to write, is tragic and a reflection of an increasingly impersonal society full of people seemingly phobic of true intimacy while clawing at it in futile ways.

I particularly agree with the argument that friendship used to be a relationship meant for mutual improvement, a true, hard-won intimacy strong enough to be truly honest and open in helping bring out each other's best and grow together. Friendship was a dedication and investment, not a mere affinity. Friendship was personal and intuitive, not a manipulative checklist of dirt one has on the other. It was a support for weathering storms, not a relationship which loses its usefulness when the "fun" wears off. True friendship was considered a lasting, committed, mutually beneficial, intimate relationship, not the fluffy playmateship on which so many seem fixated today. With the classical kind of friendships, who could be truly lonely?

On the other hand, maybe that is a romantic or exaggerated notion, that friendship "used to be" something it's not today. Maybe the form of finding such friendships has simply changed. Maybe people in the romantic past also struggled to find true connection but for an entirely different set of reasons, such as having to hide socially unacceptable parts of themselves from even their closest friends. Maybe friendship has made strides in some ways even while declining in others. Maybe it's not that different, fundamentally, from how it's always been. But I'm inclined to agree that it seems like friendship is cheaper today, hollower, and tinny like most of what comes out of Hollywood. I strive for better. I prefer friends who will not tell me I'm perfect while watching me march into a pit of snakes or desecrate my integrity in violation of my own values and principles. That's not to say I want preachy friends or friends who think their values and principles should be mine, in the same priority they hold them. I just don't think anyone who always says, "You're perfect the way you are, and anyone who doesn't see that is stupid," can be trusted, and I have to trust my friends.

What I disagree with in this article is that Facebook is, in and of itself, some kind of friendship destroyer, a monster hacking away at the roots of intimacy. Facebook is a tool. It is admittedly a tool many use for self-flattery, false celebrity, professional and social networking, self-marketing, divulgence of information nobody needs or wants to hear (I don't care what genitalia you would be if your personality were made into a body part, for example), or amassing a collection of "friends" which should more accurately be called "people with whom I have some kind of connection." But blaming Facebook for the way people use it is a bit like blaming higher education for snobbery and elitism, or religion for genocide and hatred. It may make sense on a social level, depending on your perspective, but the thing isn't the cause or the problem: it's how it's interpreted and used.

I, for one, only add people on Facebook whom I've met and connected with on some level. I occasionally have approved requests from people I only met once and don't necessarily expect to get to know better (and I adjust their access to my profile accordingly), and I have approved a very small number of people I hadn't yet met, usually spouses of friends or some similar level of incidental connection, but whom I later meet. Have there been hotties or interesting people I'd like to add and become incidentally familiar with by window shopping their Facebook profile before deciding whether to meet in person? Yeah, definitely. But I've refused to do it on principle. I've just never really wanted to meet people that way, for the most part.

But what of people who do meet that way? Does the use of a tool in initial acquaintance preclude the development of intimacy? Does having 500 Facebook friends automatically rule out the possibility of selectively becoming close with a few of them? Do the benefits of maintaining many connections and acquaintances outweigh the loss of time with a few close friends? Is there a balance to be struck? Can I maintain incidental contact through the efficiency of sites like Facebook even while investing time in my more intimate friendships sufficient to develop rich and meaningful relationships with them? I think so. Have I found that balance? Probably not. But I'm working on it. Live life deliberately, right? Nobody's perfectly balanced. It seems the cultural scale is tilted heavily towards hollow relationships, but I'm trying to keep my scale where I want it: leaning towards the intimacy even while maintaining a useful and productive number of casual friendships and acquaintances, some of which may someday become more intimate friendships.

Yes, friendships may wax and wane. And with the mobility of our society, people moving around from place to place in search of education and work, that's bound to happen. If we all stayed put more often, as I think old-timers did, we'd have more opportunity for lasting, life-long friendships, which I think is a beautiful thing. But with mobility comes more contact and more opportunities to learn from more people with more perspectives. Fortunately, tools like Facebook help us remember friends who are distant and more efficiently see what they're up to and share our adventures with them. Yes, it can be painful to see their lives marching on while you start from scratch, but not being aware of it doesn't stop it from happening, and you can control whether these things are shoved in your face or quietly happening out of view if you want to. Learn the tool, use it well. Trade-offs. Balance.

One point made in the article I found particularly interesting is that of memories being sort of whitewashed by the present. It's poignantly stated, but I'm not sure I completely buy it. Having "reconnected" with childhood or otherwise years-past friends, in that electronic, online way, I've discovered we remember some things differently, and we remember different things, and re-evaluating my mental snapshots in that light has expanded and refined my perception of those memories. I would rather see clearly than remember it however I find most comfortable, but there's more to it than that. There may be touchy-feely, emotional motives to remember things how we want to, or comfort in leaving people firmly in the past where they "belong", but I'm fascinated by people and relationships and development, and I find it interesting to hear how they remember things, or to see what they're up to these days and how they seem to have changed or remained the same, even if I only look at their profile once. I see my childhood friends pop up on Facebook, clubbing in New York, or living in a trailer in rural Idaho, or playing with their two or six children, and I consciously know I no longer really "know" them, but I like knowing, at the very least, that they're alive somewhere, carrying memories of me as I carry memories of them. In some way, for better or worse, we've been a part of each other's development and memory, even if only incidentally. It reminds me to make the most of today, to be a positive memory for today's friends and coworkers. And then, when I'm tired of seeing information about them, I hide them from my feed and only go back when, one day, I think, "I wonder whatever happened to So-and-so. Oh yeah, they're on Facebook, let's see." A minute later, I've moved on, but for that minute, a part of my life that contributed to who I am today was brought back into view, sparked by information and pictures that elicited memories the mere incidental thought never would have. Am I a changed man because I spent a minute looking at the profile of a friend I've not spoken with in years? Maybe not. Could I have spent that minute calling a loved one I am close with? Yes. Would I have? Probably not. But the perspective--the little adjustment, the reminder of one's influence, the reminder of who you used to be and how things have changed--can, if you allow it, be useful.

In short, I fully support the caution flags raised by the author, and I share the author's lament for the nature of friendship in our culture, but I think deleting your Facebook account in response would be extreme and silly. While I think the author makes some scapegoating leaps, I really enjoyed the article and recommend it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have plans with friends to spend time, in person, sharing our stories and updates, seeing what's behind the words in each other's eyes and gestures, sharing energy and sensation, and just being together. I think much of what the author is trying to say is summed up in a quote from one of my favorite movies, Good Will Hunting:

So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientation, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel.

The Curse of the Fall Is Upon Me!

No, this is not some essay on the fallen state of mankind since the Garden of Eden. It's a lament for my love-hate relationship with the season before winter: autumn.

I actually love autumn. There's so much to love about the season which appears to be upon us. I love the trees turning yellows and oranges and reds and driving through curvy roads surrounded by them. I love the refreshing cool of the night air. I love the fact that I get to wear my thermal shirts again. I love my thermals. And light sweaters. I love sweaters. I think I look best in long-sleeved shirts, and my definitely most butt-flattering pants are too heavy to wear during most of summer. I love the spices and, consequently, autumn foods and drinks. Thanksgiving (day of thanking the powers that be for amazing edibles and expandable stomachs) is right around the corner (even more so for my Canadian friends). I love the rain and the thunder storms. I love bundling up in a blanket with hot cider and watching the fire all cozy-like...

...which leads me to the "cursed" part. It happens every year, as the seasons change and the nights get colder. More than any time of year, during the Fall, I really want someone to snuggle up with and wrap my arms around. In the living room watching a thunder storm, or in the hot springs in the mountains, or sipping cider by a fire, or just in a blanket watching a movie, or in bed when I hug my pillow... (insert tragic and somewhat pathetic violin music here) It usually comes with a romantic feeling. Wishing I had someone "special" to snuggle up with. Of course, cuddle-buddies are OK sometimes. Not that I have any here, and not that I'm much of a cuddler except with a very few people. And most of my friends, to be honest, aren't especially cuddly types. But even if they were, for some reason, I'm pretty sure that wouldn't really satiate this feeling. Nor would a dog or cat to snuggle up to. I mean, it's great to have a dog cozying its head on your lap or, much better, a purring cat curled up in your arms, but it's just not the same as a romantic someone. "Go find a cuddle-buddy then!" you say. But no, I'm not one to cuddle for the sake of cuddling. I'd rather not cuddle than cuddle with someone who doesn't matter to me or with whom I don't really have a good level of trust. And so I go cuddleless through this cuddly time of year... (cue your most heartfelt sympathies and "aws")

As a result, I think the ol' heart searches more during the fall for someone to direct that energy towards. No coincidence, probably, that this tends to be the time of year I've crushed more than other times. So far, though, there is no such target, which is both relieving (because I don't want the messiness of a flirtationship right now) and frustrating (because I got all this tender lovin' to give!). What's a guy to do? If you see me snuggled up in a blanket by the fireplace with my pillow and two mugs of cider, don't judge.

Adam

Thumbs enthusiastically up on Adam. Caught a matinee yesterday.



The lead is completely endearing, illustrating life with Asperger's syndrome in a comprehensible way. I even thought, several times, "I do that, just to a milder degree." I thought, "His response to this situation is completely rational. It's just 'too' rational. Is it odd that I identify?" I used to struggle seriously with idiomatic expressions. I wondered why people didn't just say what they meant. These and other sympathies made me wonder if I have the same traits that, in more extreme forms, make up Asperger's, or if the only difference between him and me is that I am somehow able to learn and adapt in ways he isn't. :-)

I enjoyed, perhaps (again) because of personal experience, the portrayal of such conflicts as how to enter into and remain in a relationship in which you know your partner will likely be unable to show you affection in the way you want it or are used to receiving it (for example, she questions whether he'll ever say "I love you" and, if he does, whether he'll understand what that even means to most people or whether he actually feels it). Despite being mostly fairly predictable and the ending being sweet but leaving me...mildly confused and trying to figure out what I might have missed, I really enjoyed the movie.


My favorite lines from it stood out probably because of my own frustrations with people's perspectives on relationships. I don't remember the exact wording, and a quick search didn't turn up the quotes online, so I'll go from memory:

"It's wonderful to feel loved. But to love, that is the necessity."

I slapped my friend on the leg and whispered, "Yes! Thank-you! Somebody's daring to say it."

This one I'll deliberately paraphrase to de-spoil it a touch, but be warned it may still be a bit of a spoiler:

"If you want me because you can't function without me, then I can't be with you."

Good flick.