I want to live in the present. I rarely do.
I am a worrier. I obsess about the past and what could have been. I worry about the future and what might happen. Lost is the present, the now, the only part that really matters, the only part that directly touches me. These preoccupations distract me from being in the moment and seeing the world, really seeing it.
So often, I look at my girls and rather than seeing them for the precious beautiful people they are, I see them as distractions: impediments to what I want to do. The wonder of their love, the marvel of their existence is obscured by this fog of thoughts, worries, concerns about the past and future, neither of which I can do anything about.
I wish to control my own thoughts, to quiet my mind, experience more fully the world around me. I think that is much of what I seek in my quest for God: being able to quiet my mind and actually feel life, connect with it. During my religious youth I was never able to successfully pray or mediate, the chatter of a thousand thoughts drowning out the voice of God.
The only time I have ever really lived in the present has been on long-distance bicycle trips. I have done several 1000-1500 mile rides, each taking 2-3 weeks. Most of these rides were done alone, just me, my bike, a tent and sleeping bag, a couple changes of clothes. When I started these rides I always had ambitions of deep introspection, intense reflection. I would bring notebooks and pencils. I never used them. My thoughts were very immediate and short: the road, the cars, my legs, the next hill or water stop. If I stopped for a break, I could get myself to think about where would I overnight, what would I eat, how far could I go. It may sound like I was thinking a lot, but I wasn't. These thoughts we all very short, a second or less, sometimes a minute during a stop. My mind was washed clean by this shower of trivial minutia, a mental sandblaster.
Within minutes of getting on the bike, my mind would be a blank slate, gone was the veil of worry obscuring my view of the world. If I looked up, I really saw the trees, birds, cars, people, houses. I lived, absolutely and fully, in the now. My mind was open, spongelike, to the sensory reality of living.
It has been 3 years since I last went on a ride, the first being 10 years ago. Yet, if I pause for even a moment, I remember. I remember a corn field outside of Dubuque where I slept in a savage thunderstorm, an empty road in Ontario that stretched off in a perfectly straight line to the horizon, the raw terror of sharing the Trans-Canadian Highway with triple-tandem logging trucks. Sleeping in a campground in Ohio and a cemetery in West Virginia, drafting an Amish carriage for 10 miles in upstate New York, the soybean fields of Illinois as infinite and uniform as a green rustling ocean, smoking brakes going down the truly endless mountains of Pennsylvania. I remember horrible, bitter people and incredibly wonderful generous people. I remember them all, my open, uncluttered mind having soaked up the unfiltered experience of existence.
I want to fully experience the present in which our lives unfold. I want to stop seeing so much of the past and future. I want to see my daughters, the trees, the hawks circling in a limpid Texas sky. I want to feel the passion of a kiss, the love of a friend, the hug of a child.
I'm looking for the present, I'll let you know when I find it.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Sunday, April 20, 2008
The gods toy with us
I think the ancient Greeks were onto something.
One of the recurring themes of Greek tragedies is that despite our individuality, our personal skills, efforts, in the end our lives are predetermined by our past and our circumstances. We can try to avoid our destiny but we are ultimately doomed to follow it.
I am at the end of one phase of my life and on the cusp of beginning another. As I look back over my life, I understand how this all came about. I can look back over the 21+ years of my marriage and before that into my and my wife's childhoods and see how everything followed almost inevitably from the past.
Even now, although I feel like I made a clear and deliberate choice about separating from my wife, I'm not sure I really had a choice. I tried keeping it together, to just "get past" the hurt and betrayal of her infidelity, and I couldn't, I simply couldn't. So what choice did I really have in the end? What were my choices: to go insane? To be angry and resentful the rest of my life? No, there was only one reasonable choice, which is to say there were none.
I think I am making choices about my future, but what choices do I really have, in the big picture? Changing one's destiny is like changing the course of a ship, hard, slow, and in the end, if the current is swift enough, impossible.
Nonetheless, I am unique, just like everyone else, and like everyone else, I value the illusion of free-choice and autonomy. That being the case, I will go through the motions of making good choices, the best choices I know how to, hoping the play the gods have me in involves me being happy.
One of the recurring themes of Greek tragedies is that despite our individuality, our personal skills, efforts, in the end our lives are predetermined by our past and our circumstances. We can try to avoid our destiny but we are ultimately doomed to follow it.
I am at the end of one phase of my life and on the cusp of beginning another. As I look back over my life, I understand how this all came about. I can look back over the 21+ years of my marriage and before that into my and my wife's childhoods and see how everything followed almost inevitably from the past.
Even now, although I feel like I made a clear and deliberate choice about separating from my wife, I'm not sure I really had a choice. I tried keeping it together, to just "get past" the hurt and betrayal of her infidelity, and I couldn't, I simply couldn't. So what choice did I really have in the end? What were my choices: to go insane? To be angry and resentful the rest of my life? No, there was only one reasonable choice, which is to say there were none.
I think I am making choices about my future, but what choices do I really have, in the big picture? Changing one's destiny is like changing the course of a ship, hard, slow, and in the end, if the current is swift enough, impossible.
Nonetheless, I am unique, just like everyone else, and like everyone else, I value the illusion of free-choice and autonomy. That being the case, I will go through the motions of making good choices, the best choices I know how to, hoping the play the gods have me in involves me being happy.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Out there
It's 5:15 and my alarm goes off. I don't really want to get up, but I'm not really tired. I dawdle in bed for another 10 minutes then get up, start the coffee, check email, begin this blog entry. I should go running, I really want to.
Out there it's inhospitable, still dark, probably not cold, but seems like it should be nonetheless. Perhaps too many years spent in a cold climate where it almost always is cold at 5:30. My nice warm bed and house, hot coffee and comfort here, the dark and cold out there. In here: the indolent pleasure of sitting and surfing. Out there: the dark, the pounding pavement, whizzing cars with glaring headlights, straining muscles, straining lungs.
Yet I love the feeling of being out there running, using my body like a machine, feeling in control. I feel strong, healthy, good. Once I'm out there, I love it, savor the act of living that running really is. If being out there running isn't living to the fullest, what is?
Out there is daunting isn't it? At least it always is for me. Perhaps for some it's always first and foremost something else: an adventure, an opportunity, a chance to live. I recognize it as all those things and yet find it intimidating. I'm not sure why. What am I afraid of? failure? the unknown? doing something hard? I couldn't tell you, although I know exactly what I do like about being out there.
I can think of many reasons why I should be out there, want to be, and no good reasons why I shouldn't or don't want to. Yet, I'm still here typing, sitting in my warm house, on my soft couch, drinking my coffee, comfortable.
Those miles won't run themselves.
Time to go out there.
Out there it's inhospitable, still dark, probably not cold, but seems like it should be nonetheless. Perhaps too many years spent in a cold climate where it almost always is cold at 5:30. My nice warm bed and house, hot coffee and comfort here, the dark and cold out there. In here: the indolent pleasure of sitting and surfing. Out there: the dark, the pounding pavement, whizzing cars with glaring headlights, straining muscles, straining lungs.
Yet I love the feeling of being out there running, using my body like a machine, feeling in control. I feel strong, healthy, good. Once I'm out there, I love it, savor the act of living that running really is. If being out there running isn't living to the fullest, what is?
Out there is daunting isn't it? At least it always is for me. Perhaps for some it's always first and foremost something else: an adventure, an opportunity, a chance to live. I recognize it as all those things and yet find it intimidating. I'm not sure why. What am I afraid of? failure? the unknown? doing something hard? I couldn't tell you, although I know exactly what I do like about being out there.
I can think of many reasons why I should be out there, want to be, and no good reasons why I shouldn't or don't want to. Yet, I'm still here typing, sitting in my warm house, on my soft couch, drinking my coffee, comfortable.
Those miles won't run themselves.
Time to go out there.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Waiting
Waiting is hard, the hardest part, according to Tom Petty
Waiting for the ketchup to comes out of the bottle
Waiting for your food to arrive
Waiting for an approaching storm to break into rain
Waiting for the first big snow of the year
Waiting for Spring
Waiting for an exam to start
Waiting to graduate
Waiting for the first glimpse of someone you are expecting
Waiting for the feel of that first kiss
Waiting for an important meeting to begin
Waiting for the doctor to enter the examination room
Waiting for test results
Waiting for the end of a bad day
Waiting for a movie to begin
Waiting to be done running during a hard run
Waiting to climb into a warm bed after a tiring day
Waiting for the alarm to go off when you are only half-asleep
Waiting for the first swim of the year
Waiting for the first day of school in fall
Waiting to see your kids after work
Waiting for your house to sell
Waiting to decide what to do about your marriage
Waiting to close on your wife's new house
Waiting for the moving truck to come
Waiting for a new beginning
Waiting to be who you want to be
Waiting for happiness
Waiting for the beginning of the rest of your life
I'm done waiting.
Waiting for the ketchup to comes out of the bottle
Waiting for your food to arrive
Waiting for an approaching storm to break into rain
Waiting for the first big snow of the year
Waiting for Spring
Waiting for an exam to start
Waiting to graduate
Waiting for the first glimpse of someone you are expecting
Waiting for the feel of that first kiss
Waiting for an important meeting to begin
Waiting for the doctor to enter the examination room
Waiting for test results
Waiting for the end of a bad day
Waiting for a movie to begin
Waiting to be done running during a hard run
Waiting to climb into a warm bed after a tiring day
Waiting for the alarm to go off when you are only half-asleep
Waiting for the first swim of the year
Waiting for the first day of school in fall
Waiting to see your kids after work
Waiting for your house to sell
Waiting to decide what to do about your marriage
Waiting to close on your wife's new house
Waiting for the moving truck to come
Waiting for a new beginning
Waiting to be who you want to be
Waiting for happiness
Waiting for the beginning of the rest of your life
I'm done waiting.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Friends
Ok, so this is some sort of writing frenzy. Three blog entries in the space of 16 hours or so. I don't care, it makes me happy and it's cheaper than heroine.
I recently had the opportunity to be a friend to a friend. You know, one of those moments when you are able to help someone in a way that means something to them. You are are the person they call when they need someone and you are able to be there for them. You know what I mean, you've done the same. The act of giving of yourself is tremendously rewarding, it feels like nothing else. It connects you to the person you are giving to even more than that act connects them to you. I think that act of giving, in a real sense, is love and intimacy.
Think about this: is there any moment of purer love and intimacy than when you are able to give something to your child and see their eyes light up? I'm not talking about material stuff, but maybe when you say you'll take them to the park, or library, or play a game with them, expend something that really costs you and they know it: your time, attention, energy. They look at you and they feel your love, physically, viscerally. In that moment, they are certain you love them because you gave of yourself to them. Kids know everything that matters, we adults sometimes forget.
Do you want to know how I know my Dad loves me? It's very simple: when I was in high school, I had to catch the bus at 5:45AM. My Dad, who didn't really have to get up till 8 or so would wake up at 5:00 every bloody day, wake me up, make me coffee and breakfast, pack me a lunch, give me a hug and send me out the door. If I missed the bus, he would drive me to intercept it at a later stop. To this day, as I type, this brings tears to my eyes. That man loved me. In addition to being my Dad, he was a true friend.
The act of giving is the essence of what binds us together as people. I can be said to love my children, spouse and friends when I give of myself to them and the act of giving cements the bond between us. As it is reciprocated, the bond grows. Conversely, if that act is not reciprocated or it is taken advantage of, more being taken than was offered, the love is lost, killed.
On a somewhat tangential note, I think the connection I mentioned above is what we are all actually ultimately seeking in our adult relationships. As adults, we pursue romance and sex, partially driven by Darwinian and pleasure-seeking urges, but also largely, perhaps mostly in pursuit of that emotionally intimate connection. I think we are missing the boat in some sense. Isn't what we really want just that sense of bonding to another person?I think we are really yearning for the connection that comes from the simple love of a true unconditional love, born of mutual dedication to the other person and their happiness. We are merely distracted by that other stuff.
I love someone because I will do anything, sacrifice anything for them and their happiness. They love me because they will do and sacrifice anything for me and my happiness. Doesn't that pretty much summarize things?
It's so simple. How do we forget?
I recently had the opportunity to be a friend to a friend. You know, one of those moments when you are able to help someone in a way that means something to them. You are are the person they call when they need someone and you are able to be there for them. You know what I mean, you've done the same. The act of giving of yourself is tremendously rewarding, it feels like nothing else. It connects you to the person you are giving to even more than that act connects them to you. I think that act of giving, in a real sense, is love and intimacy.
Think about this: is there any moment of purer love and intimacy than when you are able to give something to your child and see their eyes light up? I'm not talking about material stuff, but maybe when you say you'll take them to the park, or library, or play a game with them, expend something that really costs you and they know it: your time, attention, energy. They look at you and they feel your love, physically, viscerally. In that moment, they are certain you love them because you gave of yourself to them. Kids know everything that matters, we adults sometimes forget.
Do you want to know how I know my Dad loves me? It's very simple: when I was in high school, I had to catch the bus at 5:45AM. My Dad, who didn't really have to get up till 8 or so would wake up at 5:00 every bloody day, wake me up, make me coffee and breakfast, pack me a lunch, give me a hug and send me out the door. If I missed the bus, he would drive me to intercept it at a later stop. To this day, as I type, this brings tears to my eyes. That man loved me. In addition to being my Dad, he was a true friend.
The act of giving is the essence of what binds us together as people. I can be said to love my children, spouse and friends when I give of myself to them and the act of giving cements the bond between us. As it is reciprocated, the bond grows. Conversely, if that act is not reciprocated or it is taken advantage of, more being taken than was offered, the love is lost, killed.
On a somewhat tangential note, I think the connection I mentioned above is what we are all actually ultimately seeking in our adult relationships. As adults, we pursue romance and sex, partially driven by Darwinian and pleasure-seeking urges, but also largely, perhaps mostly in pursuit of that emotionally intimate connection. I think we are missing the boat in some sense. Isn't what we really want just that sense of bonding to another person?I think we are really yearning for the connection that comes from the simple love of a true unconditional love, born of mutual dedication to the other person and their happiness. We are merely distracted by that other stuff.
I love someone because I will do anything, sacrifice anything for them and their happiness. They love me because they will do and sacrifice anything for me and my happiness. Doesn't that pretty much summarize things?
It's so simple. How do we forget?
More intent
Some time ago, I posted an entry entitled intent in which I described what I intended to do about my marriage.
In the same spirit, I would like to state what I want to do in this next phase of my life, after my wife and I separate in a couple weeks.
During the next year,
I intend to really live and find out who I am on my own.
I intend to cultivate the friends I have and make new ones.
I intend to engage in my hobbies and perhaps find new ones, time permitting.
I intend to exercise regularly.
I intend to date.
I intend to meet, discover and appreciate new people.
I intend to read more.
I intend to go to the library more.
I intend to buy and even more importantly listen to music.
I intend to go to museums, zoos, shows, concerts, with friends, my kids, by myself.
I intend to be a better, funner, more attentive and engaged father.
I intend to join some clubs, groups or take some classes.
I intend to plan fun activities and adventures for myself.
I intend to be good to and supportive of my estranged wife.
I intend to maintain a sense of family with my family, including my wife.
I intend to develop more self-confidence in social settings.
I intend to stop deferring happiness and joy.
I intend to have a plan to work on the above by late-May.
I intend to live with intent.
In the same spirit, I would like to state what I want to do in this next phase of my life, after my wife and I separate in a couple weeks.
During the next year,
I intend to really live and find out who I am on my own.
I intend to cultivate the friends I have and make new ones.
I intend to engage in my hobbies and perhaps find new ones, time permitting.
I intend to exercise regularly.
I intend to date.
I intend to meet, discover and appreciate new people.
I intend to read more.
I intend to go to the library more.
I intend to buy and even more importantly listen to music.
I intend to go to museums, zoos, shows, concerts, with friends, my kids, by myself.
I intend to be a better, funner, more attentive and engaged father.
I intend to join some clubs, groups or take some classes.
I intend to plan fun activities and adventures for myself.
I intend to be good to and supportive of my estranged wife.
I intend to maintain a sense of family with my family, including my wife.
I intend to develop more self-confidence in social settings.
I intend to stop deferring happiness and joy.
I intend to have a plan to work on the above by late-May.
I intend to live with intent.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Joni
At the beginning of my marital crisis, I began surfing and posting to a web site dedicated to the many and varied interests of over-40 people. It is a great web-site. People there talk about religion, writing, politics and of course marriage and relationships. I had posted there the details of my situation both before and after I became aware of my wife's affairs. I received a lot of useful advice and support. A couple people in particular were very helpful. One of them is Joni Peschman. Joni is a "personal coach", she offers her services both remotely and locally (Tempe, AZ).
Joni met with me weekly for the last couple months helping me first discover then strive toward my goals. She asked incisive and thought-provoking questions which clarified my feelings, hopes, desires, values, motivations, pointing out the logical and practical implications of those things. She gave me concrete suggestions on how to implement my stated goals. She validated my desires, concerns, hopes where they were reasonable and self-consistent and pointed out where they were not. She validated me as a person. She encouraged me to make decisions and live by them, to take action to achieve my goals. When those goals changed, she adjusted her suggestions to the new goals. In short she helped me become more the person I said I wanted to be.
There are people you come across who help you at the right time, in the right way. Joni was such a person for me. There have been other such people in my life and there will be more in the future, but right now, today, Joni was it.
I want to take this forum, however limited in readership it is, to publicly thank her for her help. I may have been able to make a decision and act on it without her, but it would have at least taken a lot longer, and I question how successful I would have been at actually making a decision.
I won't know for a while if the decision I made was correct, optimal, but it was my decision and right now, it feels really right. Joni did not make any decisions for me, nor even influence the direction(s) I took, but she did help me take stock of myself and my situation and move forward with my decisions.
So Joni, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
Joni met with me weekly for the last couple months helping me first discover then strive toward my goals. She asked incisive and thought-provoking questions which clarified my feelings, hopes, desires, values, motivations, pointing out the logical and practical implications of those things. She gave me concrete suggestions on how to implement my stated goals. She validated my desires, concerns, hopes where they were reasonable and self-consistent and pointed out where they were not. She validated me as a person. She encouraged me to make decisions and live by them, to take action to achieve my goals. When those goals changed, she adjusted her suggestions to the new goals. In short she helped me become more the person I said I wanted to be.
There are people you come across who help you at the right time, in the right way. Joni was such a person for me. There have been other such people in my life and there will be more in the future, but right now, today, Joni was it.
I want to take this forum, however limited in readership it is, to publicly thank her for her help. I may have been able to make a decision and act on it without her, but it would have at least taken a lot longer, and I question how successful I would have been at actually making a decision.
I won't know for a while if the decision I made was correct, optimal, but it was my decision and right now, it feels really right. Joni did not make any decisions for me, nor even influence the direction(s) I took, but she did help me take stock of myself and my situation and move forward with my decisions.
So Joni, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Acceleration
I mentioned earlier how my life seems to have taken on, well, a life of its own. I seem to be a spectator of my own life. In that context, it was a completely normal weekend...
I worked all weekend, didn't get to go to church, which was disappointing. We got to spend evenings together though, and still got some good family time in. My oldest is getting used to the idea of separation, and the calmness with which we are discussing and planning it seems to be helping. We are treating this like a big adventure, which it kind of is. House shopping is always hopeful and exciting.
My wife reiterated the very amusing and flattering idea that I will be entertaining an endless stream of women the moment she leaves. It's very sweet: she seems convinced that I am so irresistible that I will be overwhelmed by suitors knocking on my door. It cracks me up, although I would love to share that view of myself.
We made an offer on a "used" house, and priced out floor plans of new construction with the builder's sales guy. If our offer is rejected, we will either start construction right away or try to get a good deal on an already-built new house. We'll have bought two houses in one year, and moved 4 times in 18 months. The house we made an offer on is about 0.3 miles from "my" house. It is small, nice, very well maintained and landscaped. My wife likes it, which is what matters.
My wife told her Mom about our situation. People's reactions are almost always the same, I'm getting good at predicting it. They assume that I (the guy) have been fooling around, that I have found someone else, that I am moving out, that my wife is keeping the kids, that I am paying child support/alimony. They always advise you to lawyer-up and "be very careful". There are very few exceptions to this reaction.
In fact, every separation/divorce, like every marriage, is completely unique. Just as our marriage was different than most, our separation is likely to be too. A relationship cannot be described from the outside. External observers, even those very close to you, see so little of what actually happens in a marriage that their understanding of it is very partial, biased by their own experience and perspective. We all tend to assume a certain universality of experience, in fact nothing like that exists.
Well, off to another exciting week.
Take care everyone.
I worked all weekend, didn't get to go to church, which was disappointing. We got to spend evenings together though, and still got some good family time in. My oldest is getting used to the idea of separation, and the calmness with which we are discussing and planning it seems to be helping. We are treating this like a big adventure, which it kind of is. House shopping is always hopeful and exciting.
My wife reiterated the very amusing and flattering idea that I will be entertaining an endless stream of women the moment she leaves. It's very sweet: she seems convinced that I am so irresistible that I will be overwhelmed by suitors knocking on my door. It cracks me up, although I would love to share that view of myself.
We made an offer on a "used" house, and priced out floor plans of new construction with the builder's sales guy. If our offer is rejected, we will either start construction right away or try to get a good deal on an already-built new house. We'll have bought two houses in one year, and moved 4 times in 18 months. The house we made an offer on is about 0.3 miles from "my" house. It is small, nice, very well maintained and landscaped. My wife likes it, which is what matters.
My wife told her Mom about our situation. People's reactions are almost always the same, I'm getting good at predicting it. They assume that I (the guy) have been fooling around, that I have found someone else, that I am moving out, that my wife is keeping the kids, that I am paying child support/alimony. They always advise you to lawyer-up and "be very careful". There are very few exceptions to this reaction.
In fact, every separation/divorce, like every marriage, is completely unique. Just as our marriage was different than most, our separation is likely to be too. A relationship cannot be described from the outside. External observers, even those very close to you, see so little of what actually happens in a marriage that their understanding of it is very partial, biased by their own experience and perspective. We all tend to assume a certain universality of experience, in fact nothing like that exists.
Well, off to another exciting week.
Take care everyone.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
New beginings
Well, events seem to have taken on a life of their own.
It seems like once we started making decisions, it all happened very quickly.
My wife and I are making definite plans to separate, and decided to do that rather than divorce straight away. We figure give it a year and figure things out. Perhaps we'll find we can't live apart, or that we like being semi-married but apart, or that we should get divorced in which case the separation will ease all of us into it.
We are looking at lots to build a house for my wife on, as well as looking at pre-existing homes for sale in our neighborhood. We want to remain very close (1/2 mile or less), so the kids can easily walk/ride bike between our houses. We are still discussing exact locations (0.5 miles versus 300 feet).
We really want to be done moving before school starts. One issue is that build times are currently 4-5 months in our neighborhood.
We are settled on a kid-sharing scheme (alternate weeks at each place, on Tuesdays and Thursdays one of the kids goes to the "off" parent's house, lots of dinners at each other's house, spending time together on weekends). Our goal is to minimize the loss we all experience and maintain a sense of family and closeness. We still love each other, we just won't be living together. At least until one of us enters a serious relationship, the close contact should pose no problem. I struggle to imagine either of us doing that anytime soon, but what do I know?
This seems both surreal and good. Although it is strange to be talking about not living together (it's all I remember), it still feels right, like a good decision. We are separating while we still like each other, can still wish the best for each other.
The best analogy I can think of for the current state of our relationship is that we are like boxers in a clinch: we are locked together, neither of us able to function effectively or be our best, afraid to let go because we'll get hurt, unable to extricate ourselves from a dysfunctional mode of interaction. This separation seems like exactly what we need to go out on our own, define ourselves, our lives, then either come back together healthily or go our separate ways, also healthily. This separation is the referee saying "break".
If we get back together after this, it will be on different terms, a different basis: one of true equality, respect and a genuine desire to be together.
I was asked today what my goals were for the next year. What a great question. I think my main goal will be to find out who I am: what do I like on my own, what am I capable of doing by myself, can I relate socially to others as an individual instead of as part of a couple? I want to start exercising more regularly, being a better dad, read more, go out, make new friends, join some clubs, maybe some classes. I want to find out who I am, me, by myself.
Being seperated will no doubt be at times lonely and depressing, sad and scary. Perhaps much of it will be that way. It could also be exciting and fun: an opportunity to rexamine my life and what I want out of it. I want to become more independent and sure of myself. I feel very much like my personal development, certainly my social development stopped when I was 20 and met my wife.
I feel like just one half of this married entity, I want to become an individual at least part of the time. I want to find out who "me" is when I'm not Dad or husband. Some people speak of re-discovering the person they were before they got married and had kids, I feel like I never existed before then. This will be an exercise in constructing a man from parts gathered over the last 20 years.
So much of my life has been lived in fear, seeking the easiest most comfortable, safest route. I don't want to start living recklessly, I don't think I would enjoy the consequences. I do want to stop living constrained by my fears and an overdeveloped sense of responsibility and duty.
I want to live my life to its fullest, in the best sense of that expression, this could be my chance to do so.
I'll let you know how it works out.
It seems like once we started making decisions, it all happened very quickly.
My wife and I are making definite plans to separate, and decided to do that rather than divorce straight away. We figure give it a year and figure things out. Perhaps we'll find we can't live apart, or that we like being semi-married but apart, or that we should get divorced in which case the separation will ease all of us into it.
We are looking at lots to build a house for my wife on, as well as looking at pre-existing homes for sale in our neighborhood. We want to remain very close (1/2 mile or less), so the kids can easily walk/ride bike between our houses. We are still discussing exact locations (0.5 miles versus 300 feet).
We really want to be done moving before school starts. One issue is that build times are currently 4-5 months in our neighborhood.
We are settled on a kid-sharing scheme (alternate weeks at each place, on Tuesdays and Thursdays one of the kids goes to the "off" parent's house, lots of dinners at each other's house, spending time together on weekends). Our goal is to minimize the loss we all experience and maintain a sense of family and closeness. We still love each other, we just won't be living together. At least until one of us enters a serious relationship, the close contact should pose no problem. I struggle to imagine either of us doing that anytime soon, but what do I know?
This seems both surreal and good. Although it is strange to be talking about not living together (it's all I remember), it still feels right, like a good decision. We are separating while we still like each other, can still wish the best for each other.
The best analogy I can think of for the current state of our relationship is that we are like boxers in a clinch: we are locked together, neither of us able to function effectively or be our best, afraid to let go because we'll get hurt, unable to extricate ourselves from a dysfunctional mode of interaction. This separation seems like exactly what we need to go out on our own, define ourselves, our lives, then either come back together healthily or go our separate ways, also healthily. This separation is the referee saying "break".
If we get back together after this, it will be on different terms, a different basis: one of true equality, respect and a genuine desire to be together.
I was asked today what my goals were for the next year. What a great question. I think my main goal will be to find out who I am: what do I like on my own, what am I capable of doing by myself, can I relate socially to others as an individual instead of as part of a couple? I want to start exercising more regularly, being a better dad, read more, go out, make new friends, join some clubs, maybe some classes. I want to find out who I am, me, by myself.
Being seperated will no doubt be at times lonely and depressing, sad and scary. Perhaps much of it will be that way. It could also be exciting and fun: an opportunity to rexamine my life and what I want out of it. I want to become more independent and sure of myself. I feel very much like my personal development, certainly my social development stopped when I was 20 and met my wife.
I feel like just one half of this married entity, I want to become an individual at least part of the time. I want to find out who "me" is when I'm not Dad or husband. Some people speak of re-discovering the person they were before they got married and had kids, I feel like I never existed before then. This will be an exercise in constructing a man from parts gathered over the last 20 years.
So much of my life has been lived in fear, seeking the easiest most comfortable, safest route. I don't want to start living recklessly, I don't think I would enjoy the consequences. I do want to stop living constrained by my fears and an overdeveloped sense of responsibility and duty.
I want to live my life to its fullest, in the best sense of that expression, this could be my chance to do so.
I'll let you know how it works out.
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