Just Not the Marrying Kind

That's what Math-Rat (the ex-husband) said to me, with a straight face, after 30 years of marriage.  He demanded to be set free of the marriage because, "whoops!  Just not the marrying kind, after all.  So sorry for the inconvenience."  Actually, he never ever, once, said he was sorry, so, let's not give him that much credit.

And, of course, he's living with, owns a house with, is in a long-term relationship with, a younger woman who has two children of her own.  He's not legally married, but he's married for all practical purposes.  Gosh, who saw that coming?  (sarcasm filter off)

I, on the other hand, was completely invested in that (dysfunctional and dangerous) marriage.  No, I was completely defined by it.  Heaven knows, there is plenty to explore there, about how and why I let that happen.  But that's not today's task.  I was so very married.  And then I wasn't.

And I'm still not.  What's up with that?  I realized the other day, in a strange epiphany while washing my hands, that I have chosen the single life.  It didn't just happen to me.  I have a feeling that walking this path is part of what I was put on this earth to do.  (I have a feeling that Math-Rat is in a relationship because he's avoiding figuring out the answer to that same question.  I try not to think about his path, but apparently I could try somewhat harder.)

Mark Twain famously posited that the most important two days in your life are the day you were born and the day you figure out why.  I have not quite had that second day, yet, but I think I'm getting there.  In the meantime, I know that I have so much personal work to do in order to become the person I imagine myself becoming, that I don't have time or energy to also be tending a relationship.  I think I would just step right back into putting the relationship and the other person first and I would get sidelined -again.  I don't want to participate in my own marginalization.

But, phrased more positively, I can live my most authentic life alone.  Once I climbed out of the cave of despair and fear that his leaving threw me into, it's really been pretty great.  I like coming home to the quiet.  I don't have to plan meals that someone else will eat, or plan events that someone else will like.  I choose what will make me happy, proud, safe.... whatever.

I guess it turns out that I'm not the marrying kind.

Which is not the same thing as saying that I have this whole thing figured out.  This is not a "look at my perfect life" mommy blog.  This is more like an "oh my lands, how do I get everything done and meet my own standards?" blog.

Staying Hopeful in a Hostile World

So, this happened.  I was just threatened and verbally assaulted for my political views.  I understand that my political and justice principles are not widely shared.  This does not surprise me.  I'm so far left of "Democrat" that - until recently, anyway- Democrat and Republican looked roughly the same from my perspective.  This is not a common worldview, and it annoys people because it's hard to understand.  I'm not always crazy about it myself, truth be told.

And, let's be clear.  I do not actually care what this person thinks about me.  I do think it's weird and unsettling that he felt entitled to express his opinions about me so personally and violently.  OK, I'm trying not to care.  Real-Andrea wants everyone to think she's nice, and funny, and smart, even if they don't always agree with her.

But here's the way more important thing.  In the face of this kind of hostility, how can I stay hopeful for change?  What's to keep me from answering back with equal hostility, because I definitely do have that ability in me?  What's to keep a person from just dropping out of the fray, frightened and wounded from the anger - the very focused and fear-inducing anger?

The answer seems like a spiritual one.  Faith communities are good at helping people locate hope when all seems lost.  And God bless them for that.  Seriously.  But I don't have - or want, right now- a faith community.  Too many other things come with that community support, things that I just can't have in my life right now.  So, how might a person such as myself find hope?

In some ways, the answer is the same: community.  We are in a strange new world - one where hostility has been unleashed.  One where ferocious racism, homophobia, anti-intellectualism, and sexism can be expressed with a disturbing sense of righteousness.   One where moral fitness to lead has been utterly abdicated.  We need each other in this madness.  We need to find each other and support each other, even if (when) we disagree about the details.

Hatred can not defeat hate.  Rather, love surrounds hatred and cuts off its oxygen.  I can not  -just bloody CAN NOT- love the people who are perpetrating these travesties of injustice on this country.  It's too much.  I have to leave that for better people.  But I can lead with love.  I can do what I do from love.  I can set about creating the culture I want to live in, which really is about love.

We won't get there.  See above.  My version of the perfect culture is probably too "out there" for most people.  But that's ok.  If we change the story, leading with love, we'll prevent this strange march toward devastation that we seem to be on.

So, first, find your companions on the journey.  That's my task.

Living Off Balance

From time to time, I do a weirdly unhealthy thing.  My life gets so very off-balance that I literally lose my footing.  No metaphor.  I fall over.  Like, a lot.  It's the craziest thing.  I'm not an uncoordinated person when all is well.  Yet, I get to this place where I am moving too fast to keep up with myself.  It's particularly charming when I lose my balance in the middle of the street, which has happened.  It turns out I'm not alone.  Check out this post, Falling Off Things, from Fit is a Feminist Issue.

Here's the thing.  This morning I fell in my own bedroom.  There was no cat underfoot to trip me.  There was no naughty puppy jumping on me and knocking me tail over teakettle.  My slippers caught on the carpet, and I went down.  I was dressed for work, lacking only my shoes, and was grabbing things and running (literally) out the door.  I had to stay on the floor for quite a while before I felt ready to get up - and of course by then all the animals were sprawled around me, either in commiseration with their friend or plotting how to exact their revenge if I couldn't get up to feed them. So, when I got up, I was covered in fur from stressed out companion animals and had to start the whole getting-dressed process over.  Along with being painful, this is not what you could call an efficient way to get your morning underway.

The nerve-wracking thing is that the first place I look for "blame" is aging.  Perhaps I am becoming one of those little old ladies who doesn't have enough core strength to protect herself.  THAT would be unsettling. I have been working so hard to ensure that is not my story.  Admittedly, I had let things get wildly out of hand in the fitness department, so I'm nowhere near the elite fitness I have in mind.  Nowhere even in the same galaxy, but I don't feel fragile.

Instead, I really think it's the universe telling me quite literally - as in, with a blow to the knees- that I have to get centered.  For all the universe cares, I can stay this busy, but I have to get a grip.

To complicate matters, I like all the categories, if you will, of my life.  There is nothing that stands up and shouts "you can let this go!"  I love my job.  It makes me feel powerful to be able to take care of myself.  I love helping people extend their intellectual curiosity and supporting them as they solve the world's problems.   I'm besotted with my companion animals, and enjoy caring for them well.  I love my house.  It deserves better care than it gets, but I truly enjoy the process of making it mine.  I love cooking.  I love exercising.  I love my family and friends. 

Indeed, there are things I would love -need,even- to add to the mix.  Where did creativity and making beautiful things go?   Where did social justice work go?  Where did political engagement go?  Where did travel go?  Where did writing go?  I wish I could get my house back to a point where it could serve as a haven, a gathering place for political engagement, a social place.... but it's in such a state of flux and mess from the remodeling that it can not currently serve that purpose.

So, you see the problem.  How might one balance having a lot -everything, in fact- to do, with being centered and grounded?  I get the feeling that we're talking radical self-care here - on beyond getting a massage, although that's good, too.  I have to meditate, do yoga, somehow tend my spiritual side; there has to be calm in the eye of this storm.  I need to journal and explore the process of allowing myself to move forward, however imperfectly.  But the real thing is that I need to be fully present in each moment - and to do whatever it takes to make that possible. As Susan Tarshis says in her much more eloquent post, it's about "alertness without anxiety."  For me, it might be more about focus without grasping for total control of all life's details.

So, doing MORE is the answer?  How can that be right?  It's not the activity I need to let go of, perhaps.  It's the internal chatter of panic.