One time I wrote this about love,
"To quantify the incalculable.
It's like a fever that rises hot in your cheeks,
before spreading to your chest and then settling
somewhere between terror and bliss."
This is at once terribly wrong and perfectly right.
For all my moments of clarity and logical profundity and clever reversals and rehearsals and recitations about love, at the end of the day I still found myself missing someone. No one in particular. Just someone. And that was the problem. I wanted someone to talk to. I mean really talk to. Someone to understand every reason behind my actions regarding "love." Someone who understood that I was only writing to save my life. This blog was the bastard child of those imagined conversations. The girls came and went and it was hard. And yet, I cannot in good conscience condemn my path up to this point. Could it have gone any different? Any better? It may be a long time before I fully understand all of the milestones on my broken road.
Only when a momentous wave of appreciation and affection finally overtook me could I see the futility, the naivety, the simple presumptuousness of my endeavor. Of all the geniuses and mentors that have gone before, how could I have possibly have been satisfied or happy with my childish conclusions about this thing called love? I vainly thought I had something to offer, or could succeed where all the better people had failed. And failed they have.
I can say this because the things they have described, with their various methods and theories and conclusions, are pale, shivering children compared with what I now feel and know. And I see my own words as hollow figures of unoriginal works. I could barely name what I observed, like a toddler just learning that there are words for the things around him. Trying to describe or quantify the ways and workings of love with those words is like doing brain surgery with a hatchet. Giving "rules" for, and building white fences around a feeling is like trying to cage lightning. Love is elemental. It is a primal force. An unchangeable law of nature. And I will no longer try to compose its abstract.
Because our tools are painfully inadequate for the task, I will stop trying to describe what I observe. This will be the last General Rules post.
But before leaving, I will share a few things that I have recently learned about love's effects and implications. Those things that are quantifiable.
Love is completely a figment of our imaginations. Lest that conjure up a negative connotation, I mean imagination in the best sense of the word. The child-like wonder and creativity and beauty, just because it existed only in your mind and nowhere else, did not make the feelings you felt while imagining any less real. It was real because it was imagined. Our senses can be deceived. They are unreliable. Perceptions rely on the compliance of others, and if love is simply a perception based on logic, it is fallible. Logic may suffice at first, until new information is presented, at which point we must throw out our line of reasoning and start over. Love may make sense on a page. It may seem logical, but it rarely is. How often do we try to anticipate it using our logic and fail miserably? Imagination on the other hand can adapt to any information. It is robust, alive, and constantly in flux. This makes it youthful. If love exists in our imagination, it will never fade. We will never get tired and "fall out of love." I for one want to keep it alive and well and I vow to make it as wonderful as I've always imagined. I realize that those could easily be the words of a deranged stalker, but the difference between being madly in love and being a creepy stalker is only a matter of degrees and semantics.
Love is a choice. Our own prophet hinted at this idea six months ago. "Choose your love. Love your choice." Some think that love is an involuntary, unconscious effect caused an unknown combination of factors. But I am here to tell you that love wants nothing to do with ethereal notions of factors that we label "causes of love." Love has nothing to do with chemistry, humor, attraction, lust, appreciation, social standing, desire (enhanced by "the game"), and thousands of other things that do not matter in the least. Initial attraction may be involuntary, but I ask what initial attraction has ever turned into a full-blown crush without constant conscious dwelling, day-dreaming, and flights of fancy? Does this initial attraction to another person cease once we enter into a monogamous marriage or relationship? Of course not. The only thing that changes is the choice. Before a devoted relationship we nurtured this attraction constantly, and after a relationship begins, we (read:most of us) choose not to indulge it any more. Thus, the initial attraction never grows into anything significant. Love is a choice, but this should not demystify it or destroy any notions of its romantic underpinning. The choice to nurture love is infinitely more romantic than attributing feelings of love to being out of our control. The notion of love being out of our control has arisen from centuries of men rationalizing their affairs to their wives. "I just couldn't help it," is an excuse, not an eternal truth. And it is not love. If love is out of our control in the beginning of a relationship, then it always remains so, and could disappear one morning without explanation. It is a weak replacement for taking responsibility. But if we constantly choose to love then it becomes romantic. It becomes undying.
I know that there is no single "right" person for everyone. I know that there is no such thing as a "soul mate." But I now can see how easily those labels would arise. Because finding someone you can truly choose to love, wholly and completely, makes you feel as if you really have found that person. Finding love simply is a matter of finding someone who you are satisfactorily compatible with. Since true, romantic love is monogamous, that makes you feel as if there is no one else who could possibly compare. Again, this does not undermine love's boundless romanticism. The romantic aspects emerge when you choose that single person to be the object of your undying affection and when you choose to exert all your effort into making that one person happy. And it is romantic that any of us find somebody to love, given the circumstances and chance encounters in our lives. That we find a compatible match in the sea of humanity around us is the biggest miracle I have ever experienced. And it is hopelessly romantic.
If love is imagined and if it's a choice, maybe we make our own soul mates.
That is what I have learned. And it has fundamentally changed me. I found her. I found fire.
[Keep Following.]
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
07 September 2011
21 August 2010
The General Rules #2 - The Necessity of "The Game" (Part 3)
Remember Candy Land? It's everyone's favorite board game.
If you don't remember or had a deprived childhood there was a main path that lead a winding and colorful road to the finish line. But if you drew special cards or landed on the right spaces you could take shortcuts. The shortcuts sped the game up and allowed the player to skip out of the rigmarole of some of the candy cane curves.
"What we say about love and what we do about love are generally two very different things." (So reads a favorite quotation of the always sage-like Sierra.)
Whence arises this discrepancy? "The Game" may be the cause. We all say we want undying affection, but we aren't willing to pay the price. (Myself included.) We say we can fall in love and that we want to. But we always have a tailor-made excuse ready as to why we don't date as much as we should. Why we don't open our hearts more. Why we don't let people in.
But I believe that this is mostly because we get caught playing the game in a never-ending cycle. Too often we see the mini-heartbreaks turn into massive ones. And it becomes easier and easier to stay in the cycle. The game then becomes a lifestyle. A safe place. A sanctuary from real commitment. We make a home in the molasses swamp. It becomes easier to say we want commitment and affection, that we wish for eternal marriage, that we desire undying love, all while we thwart any attempts with our static behavior. And our words become half-hearted coinage thrown into an empty well. An atheists faith.
Like Professor Young, we find it easier make our own worst fears come to pass rather than work actively and have our efforts disappointed.
All too often the game becomes life, rather than an event in it. It's easier to be pessimistic about love because we will either see our ideas continually validated or be pleasantly surprised. We can easily fulfill our own dark prophecies about never finding Mr. or Mrs. Right. And if we let the game rule us at least we can always say, "I told you so."
Remember when I said there is more than one path to true love? What I left out is that there are also more preferable paths to true love. Shortcut paths. Gumdrop Passes and Rainbow Trails. The best being the destiny path. This has only recently been drawn to my attention with the recent marriages of my best mission friend and my brother and the engagement of my sister. They have all told me that it "just worked out." God put someone in their path and once the ball got rolling it never stopped. The love took root and has grown everyday. I still will never think it is in any way easy.
I think this is because it hurts. Barring the worst case scenario of a breakup, heartache can never truly be avoided, even when destiny uses its wild-card. It hurts immensely to let someone into our two-sizes-too-small hearts. There is an awful sort of realization that happens after we commit to someone; we must now share everything about us. Even the secret corners that we have gone to such lengths to disguise. But in this process of opening and being vulnerable and progressing, we grow. The tandem upward growth trajectory is true love.
A general authority said recently "True love necessarily includes some degree of permanence." And, "[Love] is actively seeking someone else's happiness." Herein lies "The Game's" biggest flaw. And not only because it incorporates neither of those things. Love looks out to others and is always constant, whereas "The Game" consistently looks inward and is ever-changing. It is selfish. It always asks, "How will this make me look?" Whereas love asks, "How will this make someone else feel?"
I've said this before, the very name is at once a perfect definition and a misnomer. It's just a game. While it may be useful sometimes, it will usually never end well, or at least where and when we want it to end. At its best it is a tool, and at its worst a nefarious ruse meant to trap the weak willed and poison them with virus-like commitment issues. It can be exciting sometimes, but I would rather take the short-cut route through candy land. Wouldn't you?
[Keep following, hilarity will ensue.]
If you don't remember or had a deprived childhood there was a main path that lead a winding and colorful road to the finish line. But if you drew special cards or landed on the right spaces you could take shortcuts. The shortcuts sped the game up and allowed the player to skip out of the rigmarole of some of the candy cane curves.
"What we say about love and what we do about love are generally two very different things." (So reads a favorite quotation of the always sage-like Sierra.)
Whence arises this discrepancy? "The Game" may be the cause. We all say we want undying affection, but we aren't willing to pay the price. (Myself included.) We say we can fall in love and that we want to. But we always have a tailor-made excuse ready as to why we don't date as much as we should. Why we don't open our hearts more. Why we don't let people in.
But I believe that this is mostly because we get caught playing the game in a never-ending cycle. Too often we see the mini-heartbreaks turn into massive ones. And it becomes easier and easier to stay in the cycle. The game then becomes a lifestyle. A safe place. A sanctuary from real commitment. We make a home in the molasses swamp. It becomes easier to say we want commitment and affection, that we wish for eternal marriage, that we desire undying love, all while we thwart any attempts with our static behavior. And our words become half-hearted coinage thrown into an empty well. An atheists faith.
Like Professor Young, we find it easier make our own worst fears come to pass rather than work actively and have our efforts disappointed.
All too often the game becomes life, rather than an event in it. It's easier to be pessimistic about love because we will either see our ideas continually validated or be pleasantly surprised. We can easily fulfill our own dark prophecies about never finding Mr. or Mrs. Right. And if we let the game rule us at least we can always say, "I told you so."
Remember when I said there is more than one path to true love? What I left out is that there are also more preferable paths to true love. Shortcut paths. Gumdrop Passes and Rainbow Trails. The best being the destiny path. This has only recently been drawn to my attention with the recent marriages of my best mission friend and my brother and the engagement of my sister. They have all told me that it "just worked out." God put someone in their path and once the ball got rolling it never stopped. The love took root and has grown everyday. I still will never think it is in any way easy.
I think this is because it hurts. Barring the worst case scenario of a breakup, heartache can never truly be avoided, even when destiny uses its wild-card. It hurts immensely to let someone into our two-sizes-too-small hearts. There is an awful sort of realization that happens after we commit to someone; we must now share everything about us. Even the secret corners that we have gone to such lengths to disguise. But in this process of opening and being vulnerable and progressing, we grow. The tandem upward growth trajectory is true love.
A general authority said recently "True love necessarily includes some degree of permanence." And, "[Love] is actively seeking someone else's happiness." Herein lies "The Game's" biggest flaw. And not only because it incorporates neither of those things. Love looks out to others and is always constant, whereas "The Game" consistently looks inward and is ever-changing. It is selfish. It always asks, "How will this make me look?" Whereas love asks, "How will this make someone else feel?"
I've said this before, the very name is at once a perfect definition and a misnomer. It's just a game. While it may be useful sometimes, it will usually never end well, or at least where and when we want it to end. At its best it is a tool, and at its worst a nefarious ruse meant to trap the weak willed and poison them with virus-like commitment issues. It can be exciting sometimes, but I would rather take the short-cut route through candy land. Wouldn't you?
[Keep following, hilarity will ensue.]
The General Rules #2 - The Necessity of "The Game" (Part 2)
A few quotes, you've heard all of these at some point. "How come nice guys never win?" or "How come the pretty girls are always with the cocky jerk in the center of the room?" or "I just want a guy who is sweet!" (As she gravitates toward the next guy who will treat her like dirt and break her heart.) or "Why isn't he/she calling me back?"
At this point in this extended blog post we should all know the answer. Still, it may be helpful to try and give a short definition of what exactly "The Game" is. And what it is not. The watered-down and painfully simple definition is: the set of techniques or actions that a pursuer or the pursued takes to demonstrate a high social value, thus increasing desirability. The more complicated and cruelly frank version of the definition probably goes something like this: the things that boys and girls do to weed out the unfit objects of our affection. In very short terms, it is modern courtship. (This is why this is a three part post. Trying to define this is like trying to grab a slimy toad.)
"The Game" is not intended to be mean-spirited and cruel. (Though sometimes it may be used, wrongfully, to do so.) "The Game" is not your recent boy/girlfriend cheating on you. "The Game" is not meant to consistently break your heart. (Though sometimes it may feel that way.) "The Game" is not easy.
"The Game" functions in different capacities. Sometimes it may be used gain the object of our desires. Othertimes it can be used to tell someone "no" in a subtle manner. And finally, it is not the only path to everlasting love.
To focus in on a narrow complaint about the game, why DO girls end up with guys who consistently treat them like crap? Certainly no girl wants this. They aren't attracted to jerk guys. They are attracted to some of the qualities that most jerk guys have in common. For example, confidence. The love of your life may sit behind you in class for an entire semester, but if he has no confidence to ask you out, there will never be an opportunity. Girls like confidence. Most nice guys aren't as confident as cocky jerks. Thus, most nice guys won't get as many girls. This is one example out of many factors.
So for guys, "The Game" is focused around building these qualities that will help attract girls. For girls, "The Game" consists mostly of playfully denying the men that pursue them. This process is very circular and emotionally exhausting. A "good game" consists of not knowing what is going on. That confusion, those moments of mini-heartbreak, the late nights, the regrets, the coulda-shoulda-woulda thought process, the frustration, all make success so much sweeter, if it ever comes.
Some give up. They experience these mini-heartbreaks and they become so disheartened that they stop trying altogether. They relinquish all hope because it is easier that way. To quote Professor Young again, "...we are afraid our hopes will be disappointed. We don't want to be fooled, and so we create a life or a way of viewing life that is 'fool-proof' --so limited, so empty of vision, that there is nothing to be disillusioned about. Sometimes we even choose to offend those who could be our friends [or lovers], or we choose to demonstrate our own incompetence or irresponsibility, or we choose to imagine a life of intractable pressures, conflicts, and miseries, because we would rather lose everything we can and choose the worst we can imagine than hope for anything and have our hopes disappointed. ...I have always seemed able to make my life miserable and then say to myself, 'At least this is real.' And for some reason it seems that we find it easier to create what we fear and be done with it than to wait in awful suspense until what we fear comes of its own volition."
I think to some degree all of us share the same fear: that one day we will wake up and our partner will not love us anymore. Or that we will wake one morning and inexplicably not love our partner. This fear is deep insecurity manifesting itself. We all share this fear because, at its heart, is the simple fact that we can NEVER be exactly sure how someone feels, about us, about anything. I believe that even when we are in love, we are afraid. We are afraid that someone may be motivated by some strange sense of duty, rather than undying love. That someone may in fact simply feel obligated to love us back. That someone simply is saying one thing, and thinking another. This happens because on the battlefield of love, the lines of communication are badly flawed. We clutch the receiver with white knuckles and hope to receive some validation of feelings, and all we get are words. Words that are so fickle and fragile in their ability to communicate true meaning. Words that leave us wanting. And often do more harm than good.
I will admit, that the higher the level of dedication, the stronger the signal gets on the receiver. With marriage being the ultimate affirming step that both parties understand and want the same thing, and most importantly feel the same way. But even then, the only way to be really, beyond a shadow-of-a-doubt sure is probably through some metaphysical process, two spirits communing without spoken words. It may be good that we distrust words so much, because words can be used nefariously.
The point of all of this is to more fully explain why "The Game" exists. It exists because in those fragile first moments of contact and communication, in order to form a stronger bond later, we need to know what the other side feels like. We need to feel what the other person's rejection of us feels like. We need to experience their (seeming) apathy towards us, we need to feel what it is like to have that person break us. And then when those three feeble words, "I love you" are exchanged, they will have some small meaning behind them. Some honesty. If "The Game" was played, we will know more strongly that they mean what they say, because we know what the opposite feels like, and it isn't this.
[Keep following, I know it was a lot of hard reading. It's like homework.]
At this point in this extended blog post we should all know the answer. Still, it may be helpful to try and give a short definition of what exactly "The Game" is. And what it is not. The watered-down and painfully simple definition is: the set of techniques or actions that a pursuer or the pursued takes to demonstrate a high social value, thus increasing desirability. The more complicated and cruelly frank version of the definition probably goes something like this: the things that boys and girls do to weed out the unfit objects of our affection. In very short terms, it is modern courtship. (This is why this is a three part post. Trying to define this is like trying to grab a slimy toad.)
"The Game" is not intended to be mean-spirited and cruel. (Though sometimes it may be used, wrongfully, to do so.) "The Game" is not your recent boy/girlfriend cheating on you. "The Game" is not meant to consistently break your heart. (Though sometimes it may feel that way.) "The Game" is not easy.
"The Game" functions in different capacities. Sometimes it may be used gain the object of our desires. Othertimes it can be used to tell someone "no" in a subtle manner. And finally, it is not the only path to everlasting love.
To focus in on a narrow complaint about the game, why DO girls end up with guys who consistently treat them like crap? Certainly no girl wants this. They aren't attracted to jerk guys. They are attracted to some of the qualities that most jerk guys have in common. For example, confidence. The love of your life may sit behind you in class for an entire semester, but if he has no confidence to ask you out, there will never be an opportunity. Girls like confidence. Most nice guys aren't as confident as cocky jerks. Thus, most nice guys won't get as many girls. This is one example out of many factors.
So for guys, "The Game" is focused around building these qualities that will help attract girls. For girls, "The Game" consists mostly of playfully denying the men that pursue them. This process is very circular and emotionally exhausting. A "good game" consists of not knowing what is going on. That confusion, those moments of mini-heartbreak, the late nights, the regrets, the coulda-shoulda-woulda thought process, the frustration, all make success so much sweeter, if it ever comes.
Some give up. They experience these mini-heartbreaks and they become so disheartened that they stop trying altogether. They relinquish all hope because it is easier that way. To quote Professor Young again, "...we are afraid our hopes will be disappointed. We don't want to be fooled, and so we create a life or a way of viewing life that is 'fool-proof' --so limited, so empty of vision, that there is nothing to be disillusioned about. Sometimes we even choose to offend those who could be our friends [or lovers], or we choose to demonstrate our own incompetence or irresponsibility, or we choose to imagine a life of intractable pressures, conflicts, and miseries, because we would rather lose everything we can and choose the worst we can imagine than hope for anything and have our hopes disappointed. ...I have always seemed able to make my life miserable and then say to myself, 'At least this is real.' And for some reason it seems that we find it easier to create what we fear and be done with it than to wait in awful suspense until what we fear comes of its own volition."
I think to some degree all of us share the same fear: that one day we will wake up and our partner will not love us anymore. Or that we will wake one morning and inexplicably not love our partner. This fear is deep insecurity manifesting itself. We all share this fear because, at its heart, is the simple fact that we can NEVER be exactly sure how someone feels, about us, about anything. I believe that even when we are in love, we are afraid. We are afraid that someone may be motivated by some strange sense of duty, rather than undying love. That someone may in fact simply feel obligated to love us back. That someone simply is saying one thing, and thinking another. This happens because on the battlefield of love, the lines of communication are badly flawed. We clutch the receiver with white knuckles and hope to receive some validation of feelings, and all we get are words. Words that are so fickle and fragile in their ability to communicate true meaning. Words that leave us wanting. And often do more harm than good.
I will admit, that the higher the level of dedication, the stronger the signal gets on the receiver. With marriage being the ultimate affirming step that both parties understand and want the same thing, and most importantly feel the same way. But even then, the only way to be really, beyond a shadow-of-a-doubt sure is probably through some metaphysical process, two spirits communing without spoken words. It may be good that we distrust words so much, because words can be used nefariously.
The point of all of this is to more fully explain why "The Game" exists. It exists because in those fragile first moments of contact and communication, in order to form a stronger bond later, we need to know what the other side feels like. We need to feel what the other person's rejection of us feels like. We need to experience their (seeming) apathy towards us, we need to feel what it is like to have that person break us. And then when those three feeble words, "I love you" are exchanged, they will have some small meaning behind them. Some honesty. If "The Game" was played, we will know more strongly that they mean what they say, because we know what the opposite feels like, and it isn't this.
[Keep following, I know it was a lot of hard reading. It's like homework.]
16 August 2010
The General Rules #2 - The Necessity of "The Game" (Part 1)
"Could I trust you with my heart if I was sure you wouldn't break it?" (Yes, I just quoted myself).
This is a touchy subject and I am quite positive that I won't handle it as delicately as most of you would prefer. I also want to re-emphasize rule #1 when I started this segment. There are exceptions. Some of us know people who fell in love at first sight in High School and have been together ever since. This is not that story. This is what happens to the rest of us.
I start by quoting a sage Professor Young of BYU, "Our hopes are not always fulfilled. That, we have been told, is the nature of our existence here. And though good things can happen to us, though peace and joy are assured us according to our faith, the good things must often come through a process of struggle and disappointment and patient waiting." I'd like to take this idea a step further, and suggest that, "struggle, disappointment and patient waiting" are essential to the process of finding "true love."
We all have the same story somewhere in our early childhood. For me it was a CD player. For others it may have been a bike or a video game or a Barbie. I wanted a CD player when I was 12. It was a Philips 45 second anti-skip jogproof CD player and it was $25. It was this one:
Beautiful isn't it? But the problem with being 12 is that you have no money. Or job by which one may ascertain said funds. So I saved. I begged. I mowed lawns. I did extra chores. And slowly but surely I saved enough and the day came when I triumphantly marched into Target and bought my prize. I took amazing care of this thing. I kept it clean, avoided dropping it, and never went jogging with it. And it rewarded me with TEN years of faithful service before being irrevocably replaced by my iPod. (Which is still running strong after almost six years.) The point of this story is that I worked for this CD player. I put sweat and long hours of waiting and daydreaming into earning this CD player. I treasured it because I earned it. And it rewarded me by going the distance.
Most of us also have a sad story that runs in an opposite vein to the story above. It goes something like this: we asked our parents for something and they got it right away for us, and we played with it for a total of twenty-four hours before the infatuation rubbed off and it sat in a box somewhere for years only to be sold for 120% off at a garage sale. Horrible isn't it?
Before I get into the meat of this post, I'd like you all to remember that old cliche that reminds us, "We all want what we can't have."
Like my CD player, boys and girls will obsess about each other. We will wait for months or maybe years harboring a small, flickering hope that that special someone will eventually want, need, or even notice us. We all have that hopeless crush. That original person that never knew we existed. Oh Megan, how your flaxen locks will forever haunt me. Ironically, the thing that keeps this perversely ridiculous hope alive is the fact that it will never be fulfilled. Read that last line again. I'm proud of it. Why do we do this to ourselves? Why can't we be happy with what is given to us? Why can't we be satisfied with the toy our parents bought us on a whim? Why can't we be satisfied with a "game-free", simple, no-nonsense, straightforward, forthcoming, easy relationship?
The answer is pride. We simply view ourselves and our worth as humans kind of like a university is rated by how many applicants it turns away. There is something grossly satisfying about turning away applicants for our love and affection. It makes us feel wanted. Important. Worth more than we actually are. From this elevated self-view we draw our lacking self-esteem. No one, I repeat no one, wants to be easy. We want to be more complicated than we are. We want to feel as though we are the best around. In love we do not want to be cheap recipients. Nor do we want to earn the love of someone else at no cost. For, in either situation, we feel like less than we are worth. No one wants the cheaply attained gift. We want the challenge. We live for the challenge. When all is said and done and love is deemed mutual, neither party wishes to look back upon the road leading to this junction and think, "My, that was easy!" because this would inevitably lead into thoughts of, "Why did I end up with this person no one else wanted? What is wrong here?" And like many things, at that point we will create the evidence to support the belief. We will start making things up in our minds to get out.
To avoid this thought process, "The Game" was invented. Its very name is laughably ironic. Because the nature of a game usually includes fun. And this Game is only fun if you are winning. And I will tell you right now, in this specific game, there are very few winners. Though the Game is hard and confusing and at times wrenches on our heartstrings. It is a necessary evil. For it alone will help us look back upon our road and be able to say, "I did it. I did it when no one else could. I am in love with a person who is in love with me alone. And while everyone else wanted what we have, only I got it. Now I can trust this person with my heart. Because I know for a fact that they can break it."
[Keep following parts 2 and 3 are coming soon to an internet near you.]
This is a touchy subject and I am quite positive that I won't handle it as delicately as most of you would prefer. I also want to re-emphasize rule #1 when I started this segment. There are exceptions. Some of us know people who fell in love at first sight in High School and have been together ever since. This is not that story. This is what happens to the rest of us.
I start by quoting a sage Professor Young of BYU, "Our hopes are not always fulfilled. That, we have been told, is the nature of our existence here. And though good things can happen to us, though peace and joy are assured us according to our faith, the good things must often come through a process of struggle and disappointment and patient waiting." I'd like to take this idea a step further, and suggest that, "struggle, disappointment and patient waiting" are essential to the process of finding "true love."
We all have the same story somewhere in our early childhood. For me it was a CD player. For others it may have been a bike or a video game or a Barbie. I wanted a CD player when I was 12. It was a Philips 45 second anti-skip jogproof CD player and it was $25. It was this one:
Beautiful isn't it? But the problem with being 12 is that you have no money. Or job by which one may ascertain said funds. So I saved. I begged. I mowed lawns. I did extra chores. And slowly but surely I saved enough and the day came when I triumphantly marched into Target and bought my prize. I took amazing care of this thing. I kept it clean, avoided dropping it, and never went jogging with it. And it rewarded me with TEN years of faithful service before being irrevocably replaced by my iPod. (Which is still running strong after almost six years.) The point of this story is that I worked for this CD player. I put sweat and long hours of waiting and daydreaming into earning this CD player. I treasured it because I earned it. And it rewarded me by going the distance.
Most of us also have a sad story that runs in an opposite vein to the story above. It goes something like this: we asked our parents for something and they got it right away for us, and we played with it for a total of twenty-four hours before the infatuation rubbed off and it sat in a box somewhere for years only to be sold for 120% off at a garage sale. Horrible isn't it?
Before I get into the meat of this post, I'd like you all to remember that old cliche that reminds us, "We all want what we can't have."
Like my CD player, boys and girls will obsess about each other. We will wait for months or maybe years harboring a small, flickering hope that that special someone will eventually want, need, or even notice us. We all have that hopeless crush. That original person that never knew we existed. Oh Megan, how your flaxen locks will forever haunt me. Ironically, the thing that keeps this perversely ridiculous hope alive is the fact that it will never be fulfilled. Read that last line again. I'm proud of it. Why do we do this to ourselves? Why can't we be happy with what is given to us? Why can't we be satisfied with the toy our parents bought us on a whim? Why can't we be satisfied with a "game-free", simple, no-nonsense, straightforward, forthcoming, easy relationship?
The answer is pride. We simply view ourselves and our worth as humans kind of like a university is rated by how many applicants it turns away. There is something grossly satisfying about turning away applicants for our love and affection. It makes us feel wanted. Important. Worth more than we actually are. From this elevated self-view we draw our lacking self-esteem. No one, I repeat no one, wants to be easy. We want to be more complicated than we are. We want to feel as though we are the best around. In love we do not want to be cheap recipients. Nor do we want to earn the love of someone else at no cost. For, in either situation, we feel like less than we are worth. No one wants the cheaply attained gift. We want the challenge. We live for the challenge. When all is said and done and love is deemed mutual, neither party wishes to look back upon the road leading to this junction and think, "My, that was easy!" because this would inevitably lead into thoughts of, "Why did I end up with this person no one else wanted? What is wrong here?" And like many things, at that point we will create the evidence to support the belief. We will start making things up in our minds to get out.
To avoid this thought process, "The Game" was invented. Its very name is laughably ironic. Because the nature of a game usually includes fun. And this Game is only fun if you are winning. And I will tell you right now, in this specific game, there are very few winners. Though the Game is hard and confusing and at times wrenches on our heartstrings. It is a necessary evil. For it alone will help us look back upon our road and be able to say, "I did it. I did it when no one else could. I am in love with a person who is in love with me alone. And while everyone else wanted what we have, only I got it. Now I can trust this person with my heart. Because I know for a fact that they can break it."
[Keep following parts 2 and 3 are coming soon to an internet near you.]
30 July 2010
The General Rules #1 - Breaking Up
A strange thing. To begin with the end. But with this topic, as with many others, the process is cyclical. The beginning and the end are closer than we may think. Also, in light of recent events in my life, this is also a fitting place to start. And until we are taken out of this cycle (by getting married), one dare not speak of love without heartbreak.
Get ready. I’m about to flip your world on its head. Ready? Many think that the opposite of love is hate.
It isn’t.
This last semester in my Intro to the English Language course we discussed this concept at length. This is a semantic issue. When discussing opposites we learned how to make a binary grid to analyze the components of a word. It looked something like this:
RELATION Male Senior Directly Related
Father + + +
Mother - + +
Niece - - -
A binary grid uses randomly assigned components to examine what the chosen words have in common. Based on the features chosen we can conclude that the opposite of a father is in fact a niece. Or, if one were to assign a new feature such as “Animate” after “Directly Related” the opposite of a father would probably end up being a rock or something of the sort. In this particular example we find that the words father and mother actually share many common traits. They are differentiated by one degree. So it often is with what we call “Opposites.”
FEELINGS Positive Intense Concern
Love + + +
Hate - + +
Apathy - - -
From my cleverly devised Binary Grid, one may conclude that the opposite of “Love” is actually a state we call “Apathy,” which by its definition is a “state of indifference”. Apathy is by its nature a suppression of emotion. Love and hate are only separated by one degree: the positive nature of the feeling. Love and hate both involve a certain amount of intensity and concern (positive or negative) about a person. Apathy, on the other hand, involves nothing of the sort.
I tell you these things to tell you this: You can never “get over” someone without forgiving them. It does not matter in the least what that person has done to you. For if you presumptuously assume that you can banish your love by switching it to hate, in order to forget someone, you will never be able to fully let things go. The two are too closely related. Because of this bond, rousing one will also rouse the other. This would lead to years of pent-up emotion that is only softened by a very human forgetfulness. We can forget our feelings, but all it takes is one chance encounter or errant wedding invitation to stir up those old love/hate emotions.
I am not by any means suggesting that we must become apathetic towards someone we have formerly loved. (Because that would simply be a weapon of buried and harbored hate.) Only forgiveness solves this problem. Forgiveness erases hate and apathy and fills us with contented sincerity towards the other person. It cleanses us, not them. And allows us to move forward with hope rather than resentment.
But wait! you exclaim, what about those who have done the breaking up? I will tell you. Rest easy. A few thoughts can be comforting. First, always remember that no one starts dating someone else in order to hurt their feelings. (This is all assuming you have broken up with the person under amiable circumstances{as far as breaking up with someone allows}and not fickle or petty or evil reasons.) Second, take comfort in the things you felt. As my wise-beyond-his-years brother once said, “It is going to fail until it works.” It is as simple as that. The relationship was either right or it was not. Trust your feelings, though it may be the hardest thing you have ever done. And last, do not concern yourself with whether or not you can express what you feel. One shared attribute that could be placed on the end of the Feelings Binary Grid could be “Inexpressible.” This would be something that all emotions would score a plus on. Trying to describe what you feel would be like trying to describe a color to a blind person. Red is red, just as black is black, just as love is love, and knowing it’s right is knowing it’s right. It simply is. Or it isn’t.
This is one thing that is simple with regards to love. It is getting to this point during which all the confusion arises. But let’s save that for another time.
[Keep following. If it please you.]
Get ready. I’m about to flip your world on its head. Ready? Many think that the opposite of love is hate.
It isn’t.
This last semester in my Intro to the English Language course we discussed this concept at length. This is a semantic issue. When discussing opposites we learned how to make a binary grid to analyze the components of a word. It looked something like this:
RELATION Male Senior Directly Related
Father + + +
Mother - + +
Niece - - -
A binary grid uses randomly assigned components to examine what the chosen words have in common. Based on the features chosen we can conclude that the opposite of a father is in fact a niece. Or, if one were to assign a new feature such as “Animate” after “Directly Related” the opposite of a father would probably end up being a rock or something of the sort. In this particular example we find that the words father and mother actually share many common traits. They are differentiated by one degree. So it often is with what we call “Opposites.”
FEELINGS Positive Intense Concern
Love + + +
Hate - + +
Apathy - - -
From my cleverly devised Binary Grid, one may conclude that the opposite of “Love” is actually a state we call “Apathy,” which by its definition is a “state of indifference”. Apathy is by its nature a suppression of emotion. Love and hate are only separated by one degree: the positive nature of the feeling. Love and hate both involve a certain amount of intensity and concern (positive or negative) about a person. Apathy, on the other hand, involves nothing of the sort.
I tell you these things to tell you this: You can never “get over” someone without forgiving them. It does not matter in the least what that person has done to you. For if you presumptuously assume that you can banish your love by switching it to hate, in order to forget someone, you will never be able to fully let things go. The two are too closely related. Because of this bond, rousing one will also rouse the other. This would lead to years of pent-up emotion that is only softened by a very human forgetfulness. We can forget our feelings, but all it takes is one chance encounter or errant wedding invitation to stir up those old love/hate emotions.
I am not by any means suggesting that we must become apathetic towards someone we have formerly loved. (Because that would simply be a weapon of buried and harbored hate.) Only forgiveness solves this problem. Forgiveness erases hate and apathy and fills us with contented sincerity towards the other person. It cleanses us, not them. And allows us to move forward with hope rather than resentment.
But wait! you exclaim, what about those who have done the breaking up? I will tell you. Rest easy. A few thoughts can be comforting. First, always remember that no one starts dating someone else in order to hurt their feelings. (This is all assuming you have broken up with the person under amiable circumstances{as far as breaking up with someone allows}and not fickle or petty or evil reasons.) Second, take comfort in the things you felt. As my wise-beyond-his-years brother once said, “It is going to fail until it works.” It is as simple as that. The relationship was either right or it was not. Trust your feelings, though it may be the hardest thing you have ever done. And last, do not concern yourself with whether or not you can express what you feel. One shared attribute that could be placed on the end of the Feelings Binary Grid could be “Inexpressible.” This would be something that all emotions would score a plus on. Trying to describe what you feel would be like trying to describe a color to a blind person. Red is red, just as black is black, just as love is love, and knowing it’s right is knowing it’s right. It simply is. Or it isn’t.
This is one thing that is simple with regards to love. It is getting to this point during which all the confusion arises. But let’s save that for another time.
[Keep following. If it please you.]
23 July 2010
The General Rules
No this is not about the online auto insurance company. (Although don't get me started. Those commercials make me want to poke my eyes out with a stick.) This is not a declaration about how the military rules! This is about another type of battle organization. These are the General Rules. Love. Yes, I'm talking about love.
Some of you may remember my poll from awhile back about starting a separate blog about love. Due to the mixed reaction, I decided not to do it. Plus, two blogs is a bit much. So I'm starting a new segment called, you guessed it, The General Rules. But before I get into the meat of this new segment I'm going to lay down a few ground rules for the General Rules:
1. They are the "General" rules. This means that there are exceptions. There are always exceptions. Everyone knows someone who had a fairytale courtship, engagement, and subsequent marriage. This is an exception to the rule. For most of us, dating is more akin to a fight to the death in gladiatorial ring than a delicate dance in a palace. For most of us, getting engaged and married will require a herculean effort. For most of us, this whole "love process" involves more slogging through the mud than walking on clouds. That is why I titled the new segment the general rules rather than "The rules that are always true no matter what."
2. I am not an expert. Don't quote me on anything. In fact, most of you will be better off not reading any of these segments.
3. I cannot be held personally responsible for any actions you may take after reading my reflections and ruminations on the subject.
4. I am always right. Comments are welcome on these posts, but just know that any comments that disagree with my opinion will be subsequently laughed at and ignored.
Thank you for your consideration. And I hope you are looking forward to the forthcoming mindless blather about the most complex subject on earth as much as I am.
[Keep following. Actually don't. You may not like what you find.]
Some of you may remember my poll from awhile back about starting a separate blog about love. Due to the mixed reaction, I decided not to do it. Plus, two blogs is a bit much. So I'm starting a new segment called, you guessed it, The General Rules. But before I get into the meat of this new segment I'm going to lay down a few ground rules for the General Rules:
1. They are the "General" rules. This means that there are exceptions. There are always exceptions. Everyone knows someone who had a fairytale courtship, engagement, and subsequent marriage. This is an exception to the rule. For most of us, dating is more akin to a fight to the death in gladiatorial ring than a delicate dance in a palace. For most of us, getting engaged and married will require a herculean effort. For most of us, this whole "love process" involves more slogging through the mud than walking on clouds. That is why I titled the new segment the general rules rather than "The rules that are always true no matter what."
2. I am not an expert. Don't quote me on anything. In fact, most of you will be better off not reading any of these segments.
3. I cannot be held personally responsible for any actions you may take after reading my reflections and ruminations on the subject.
4. I am always right. Comments are welcome on these posts, but just know that any comments that disagree with my opinion will be subsequently laughed at and ignored.
Thank you for your consideration. And I hope you are looking forward to the forthcoming mindless blather about the most complex subject on earth as much as I am.
[Keep following. Actually don't. You may not like what you find.]
02 June 2010
Masquerading on. And on.
What a difference a day makes. I think Annie was right. No matter what happens in our today, tomorrow still has an imagination. And it's better than yours. Way better.
Life tends to be a smug masquerade. We are all dancers on it's floor. We wear our ornate costumes, drape ourselves in exotic fabrics, and elegantly spin as if nothing were amiss. We have our masks; our self-deceptions, pride, and narrow pessimism. As if no new dawn could lavish hope.
Little do we know that around each spinning step slinks an opportunist fate. A met glance. Another chance. Or the audacity of romance. We simple fools. We dance on. Side-stepping our mistress luck for the gatekeeper solitude. We cloud our eyes with ethereal fantasy and drift past waiting out our lives as if it were some one-time-only movie showing.
The sun will come out tomorrow. Though you can't fathom its glory. The while we study the barbican moon. The haunches of its dimness. Shortchange those we love and whittle away the minutes. There is contentment but not joy. We experience a sort of damning lack of progress with contentment. We would have joy but for sadness. Fear whips us into hovels.
I for one am in a beaming moment. Warm-faced and blissful. Spirits akin to longing, now embrace like long-parted friends. Keep me loving and I get away from the dance and tear off my mask; and live.
[Keep following children. Happy days are upon us if you look hard enough. Who knows? Maybe you will wake up 50 years from now to a sterile gray dawn and short days filled with ashen snow.]
Life tends to be a smug masquerade. We are all dancers on it's floor. We wear our ornate costumes, drape ourselves in exotic fabrics, and elegantly spin as if nothing were amiss. We have our masks; our self-deceptions, pride, and narrow pessimism. As if no new dawn could lavish hope.
Little do we know that around each spinning step slinks an opportunist fate. A met glance. Another chance. Or the audacity of romance. We simple fools. We dance on. Side-stepping our mistress luck for the gatekeeper solitude. We cloud our eyes with ethereal fantasy and drift past waiting out our lives as if it were some one-time-only movie showing.
The sun will come out tomorrow. Though you can't fathom its glory. The while we study the barbican moon. The haunches of its dimness. Shortchange those we love and whittle away the minutes. There is contentment but not joy. We experience a sort of damning lack of progress with contentment. We would have joy but for sadness. Fear whips us into hovels.
I for one am in a beaming moment. Warm-faced and blissful. Spirits akin to longing, now embrace like long-parted friends. Keep me loving and I get away from the dance and tear off my mask; and live.
[Keep following children. Happy days are upon us if you look hard enough. Who knows? Maybe you will wake up 50 years from now to a sterile gray dawn and short days filled with ashen snow.]
16 May 2010
Practice makes...
I had a moment of clarity the other night. (I've been going for drives a lot lately -- mostly because Miles is in Australia.) I was thinking of a mind set that many of us who have been on missions know about. Maybe I'm generalizing too much, but I'm usually right anyway so it doesn't matter.
On a mission it becomes necessary to create a buffer between yourself and your message and/or your method of delivery. Many of us were encouraged to do this with words like, "Remember, they aren't rejecting you, they are rejecting God's message." There is nothing wrong with this. It's good advice for anyone who didn't want to go insane or spiral into depression. There is nothing wrong with it because it is a true statement. When people said no, it wasn't usually because they disliked us as people. They just didn't want to listen to us. And that was OK. In other words, we just couldn't take the rejection personally.
My realization came the other day when I realized that this is one thing that none of us should ever have brought home with us from our missions. It is something that clings to us like a TB exposure or tapeworm. They told us to make our missions springboards for the rest of our lives. This is also good advice. We should all keep the work ethic, dedication, and determination we learned throughout our lives. But one thing we should have left with our ragged suits and tattered shoes in the mission field, was the idea that people are only rejecting an aspect of you when they reject you post-mission. Yes, I'm talking about girls now.
In my naive way I thought that missionary work would somehow also apply to the realm of dating. (Ha ha.) I thought, "I'm used to rejection. It happened to me everyday. Dating will be easy." It has taken me a year to realize that everything I learned for two years doesn't apply here. I was rudely awakened the first time rejection came. Something was different. It hurt more. No matter how much I told myself that it was the same, it just wasn't. "I must be doing something wrong. I'll won't do this or that next time. I'm still adjusting," I thought. So I did it. I asked for advice, experimented, and yes, even read a book on the subject. And at each small rejection, I changed. Because they weren't rejecting me, they were rejecting my message, an aspect of me.
Don't get me wrong. I was not getting dumped and humiliated and snubbed every Friday night like the word rejection implies. It was in little ways. Just starting up a conversation that would end up going nowhere, and so on. You get what I'm saying. Anyway, my revelation was that this is personal now. I'm not presenting someone with a message anymore. I'm presenting myself. And this whole time, this whole last year, I've been presenting only aspects of me. The parts of me that I think people will like and admire and accept. My realization was that this has been a safety blanket. If I get dismissed, I can chalk it up to being the fault of my technique, or a part of myself that wasn't as likable as I had previously thought. I've really let no one see everything, for fear that they would find something they might not like. I guess that is what people mean when they say just be yourself.
In losing yourself for the sake of love or getting to know someone, you gain nothing. You can separate aspects of yourself from who you truly are, and present that to someone. It works. I've been doing it. And if you are rejected it doesn't hurt because, "hey, it wasn't really me they were rejecting." You can make that separation, but that isn't you. Contrary to modern attitudes, you shouldn't have to give everything up for love. You don't have to sacrifice your identity to show your love for someone. That only hurts. I'm not saying we shouldn't try to constantly strive to be better. You can always be better. But you don't have to give up what defines you to accomplish it. It all comes back to being honest. Not just with other people, but with yourself. That is all.
[Keep following. You may get to know me yet. Like the one time I got crocodile wrestling lessons from Steve Erwin.]
On a mission it becomes necessary to create a buffer between yourself and your message and/or your method of delivery. Many of us were encouraged to do this with words like, "Remember, they aren't rejecting you, they are rejecting God's message." There is nothing wrong with this. It's good advice for anyone who didn't want to go insane or spiral into depression. There is nothing wrong with it because it is a true statement. When people said no, it wasn't usually because they disliked us as people. They just didn't want to listen to us. And that was OK. In other words, we just couldn't take the rejection personally.
My realization came the other day when I realized that this is one thing that none of us should ever have brought home with us from our missions. It is something that clings to us like a TB exposure or tapeworm. They told us to make our missions springboards for the rest of our lives. This is also good advice. We should all keep the work ethic, dedication, and determination we learned throughout our lives. But one thing we should have left with our ragged suits and tattered shoes in the mission field, was the idea that people are only rejecting an aspect of you when they reject you post-mission. Yes, I'm talking about girls now.
In my naive way I thought that missionary work would somehow also apply to the realm of dating. (Ha ha.) I thought, "I'm used to rejection. It happened to me everyday. Dating will be easy." It has taken me a year to realize that everything I learned for two years doesn't apply here. I was rudely awakened the first time rejection came. Something was different. It hurt more. No matter how much I told myself that it was the same, it just wasn't. "I must be doing something wrong. I'll won't do this or that next time. I'm still adjusting," I thought. So I did it. I asked for advice, experimented, and yes, even read a book on the subject. And at each small rejection, I changed. Because they weren't rejecting me, they were rejecting my message, an aspect of me.
Don't get me wrong. I was not getting dumped and humiliated and snubbed every Friday night like the word rejection implies. It was in little ways. Just starting up a conversation that would end up going nowhere, and so on. You get what I'm saying. Anyway, my revelation was that this is personal now. I'm not presenting someone with a message anymore. I'm presenting myself. And this whole time, this whole last year, I've been presenting only aspects of me. The parts of me that I think people will like and admire and accept. My realization was that this has been a safety blanket. If I get dismissed, I can chalk it up to being the fault of my technique, or a part of myself that wasn't as likable as I had previously thought. I've really let no one see everything, for fear that they would find something they might not like. I guess that is what people mean when they say just be yourself.
In losing yourself for the sake of love or getting to know someone, you gain nothing. You can separate aspects of yourself from who you truly are, and present that to someone. It works. I've been doing it. And if you are rejected it doesn't hurt because, "hey, it wasn't really me they were rejecting." You can make that separation, but that isn't you. Contrary to modern attitudes, you shouldn't have to give everything up for love. You don't have to sacrifice your identity to show your love for someone. That only hurts. I'm not saying we shouldn't try to constantly strive to be better. You can always be better. But you don't have to give up what defines you to accomplish it. It all comes back to being honest. Not just with other people, but with yourself. That is all.
[Keep following. You may get to know me yet. Like the one time I got crocodile wrestling lessons from Steve Erwin.]
09 May 2010
/the Vulnerable man.
So the idea for this post came from an Alanis Morissette song. Don't judge me.
This Erastus Snow quote helped things along: “If good and evil is placed before us, does not the person who chooses the good and refuses the evil exhibit his agency and manhood as much as the man who chooses the evil and refuses the good? or is the independence of manhood all on the side of the evil-doer? I leave you to answer this question in your own mind. To me, I think the angels and saints and all good people have exercised their agency by choosing the good and refusing the evil; and in doing so they not only exhibit their independence and manhood as much, but show a much higher and greater nobility of character and disposition; and I leave the future to determine who are wise in the choice of their freedom and independence."
I'd like to relate what Erastus said to what makes a man manly when dealing with love. Mr. Snow points out the twisted lie that the devil uses to convince us that any command that God gives us is a limitation upon our agency and somehow restrictive. Satan would have us believe that only when we are rebelling are we truly using our agency. When in fact, the opposite is true. Wrong choices bind us and jail us to the consequences of addiction and pain. Good choices allow us to be continually happy and free from bad consequences. But what does this have to do with being a man?
I want to respond to a cultural current that suggests that all men have to be "tough" and insensitive to be considered "manly" in matters of the heart. Let us think of some of the standard attributes that all men need to have in order to seem like a typical strong man: he must be brave, he must be a leader, and he must be a protector and provider.
First, he must be brave. Like Erastus Snow, I'd like to pose some rhetorical questions: what does it mean to be brave? Is it not to act courageously in the face of opposition? What opposition is there in love? What do men fight against? To be brave in love is not to sit back and wait for love to find us. To be brave in love is to put ourselves out there, be vulnerable, to play the game where our hearts are the stakes. To be brave in love is to play for keeps. Our culture would have us believe that men must be brave in other things and save our courage for other fields. Our culture would have us believe that it is "manly" to not let ourselves be hurt. Our culture would have us take our hearts out of the equation. Our culture would have us stay back from the fight and only enter on terms of complete emotional armor; we are not to have any chance of being hurt. To me, that is cowardly. To me, that is not brave. To me, that is the opposite of masculinity.
Second, he must be a leader. Our cultural standards would have us believe that men must be the aggressors. We must lead the charge. We must escalate. This is all true. It is our job. The problem is that we don't do it. Our charges are feints, our forays distractions. We are so hung up on being strong that it makes us forget our responsibilities. We can't possibly be bold, for therein lies the possibility of being hurt, and to be hurt is to be weak. And we can't have weak leaders now can we? Really it is those that lay wounded and dying that have exhibited their manliness and done their job, not the cool and emotionally detached onlooker. To lead is to be in the mix, not watching from afar.
Third, he must be a protector and provider. What does the emotionally invulnerable male protect but himself? What does he provide but misery for those who would be with him? True masculinity means getting out there and finding someone to protect and provide for, no matter the cost. And make no mistake, the cost is emotional hurt. We need to change the roles of men. We need to be more like the romantics. We need to write poetry and pursue unrequited love and do whatever it takes, and women and men alike must come to see this for what it is. Not weakness. But strength. Determination. Leadership. Fulfilling our role as protector, as provider. Alanis said it like this:
You, with your eyes mix strength with abandon
You, with your new kind of heroism ...
This is a thank you for letting me in
Indeed in praise of the vulnerable man
Now, if men start doing these things and putting their hearts out there, and start becoming emotionally available it becomes the job of women to "...vow to be true / ...vow to not take advantage." Reward rather than punish men for this new found heroism. Don't be callous. Don't be cold. See his actions for what they are. Let them become admirable in your eyes. Praise the vulnerable man. He might be the manliest man you know.
[Keep following and I'll tell of the time my sister's ballet instructor hit on me.]
This Erastus Snow quote helped things along: “If good and evil is placed before us, does not the person who chooses the good and refuses the evil exhibit his agency and manhood as much as the man who chooses the evil and refuses the good? or is the independence of manhood all on the side of the evil-doer? I leave you to answer this question in your own mind. To me, I think the angels and saints and all good people have exercised their agency by choosing the good and refusing the evil; and in doing so they not only exhibit their independence and manhood as much, but show a much higher and greater nobility of character and disposition; and I leave the future to determine who are wise in the choice of their freedom and independence."
I'd like to relate what Erastus said to what makes a man manly when dealing with love. Mr. Snow points out the twisted lie that the devil uses to convince us that any command that God gives us is a limitation upon our agency and somehow restrictive. Satan would have us believe that only when we are rebelling are we truly using our agency. When in fact, the opposite is true. Wrong choices bind us and jail us to the consequences of addiction and pain. Good choices allow us to be continually happy and free from bad consequences. But what does this have to do with being a man?
I want to respond to a cultural current that suggests that all men have to be "tough" and insensitive to be considered "manly" in matters of the heart. Let us think of some of the standard attributes that all men need to have in order to seem like a typical strong man: he must be brave, he must be a leader, and he must be a protector and provider.
First, he must be brave. Like Erastus Snow, I'd like to pose some rhetorical questions: what does it mean to be brave? Is it not to act courageously in the face of opposition? What opposition is there in love? What do men fight against? To be brave in love is not to sit back and wait for love to find us. To be brave in love is to put ourselves out there, be vulnerable, to play the game where our hearts are the stakes. To be brave in love is to play for keeps. Our culture would have us believe that men must be brave in other things and save our courage for other fields. Our culture would have us believe that it is "manly" to not let ourselves be hurt. Our culture would have us take our hearts out of the equation. Our culture would have us stay back from the fight and only enter on terms of complete emotional armor; we are not to have any chance of being hurt. To me, that is cowardly. To me, that is not brave. To me, that is the opposite of masculinity.
Second, he must be a leader. Our cultural standards would have us believe that men must be the aggressors. We must lead the charge. We must escalate. This is all true. It is our job. The problem is that we don't do it. Our charges are feints, our forays distractions. We are so hung up on being strong that it makes us forget our responsibilities. We can't possibly be bold, for therein lies the possibility of being hurt, and to be hurt is to be weak. And we can't have weak leaders now can we? Really it is those that lay wounded and dying that have exhibited their manliness and done their job, not the cool and emotionally detached onlooker. To lead is to be in the mix, not watching from afar.
Third, he must be a protector and provider. What does the emotionally invulnerable male protect but himself? What does he provide but misery for those who would be with him? True masculinity means getting out there and finding someone to protect and provide for, no matter the cost. And make no mistake, the cost is emotional hurt. We need to change the roles of men. We need to be more like the romantics. We need to write poetry and pursue unrequited love and do whatever it takes, and women and men alike must come to see this for what it is. Not weakness. But strength. Determination. Leadership. Fulfilling our role as protector, as provider. Alanis said it like this:
You, with your eyes mix strength with abandon
You, with your new kind of heroism ...
This is a thank you for letting me in
Indeed in praise of the vulnerable man
Now, if men start doing these things and putting their hearts out there, and start becoming emotionally available it becomes the job of women to "...vow to be true / ...vow to not take advantage." Reward rather than punish men for this new found heroism. Don't be callous. Don't be cold. See his actions for what they are. Let them become admirable in your eyes. Praise the vulnerable man. He might be the manliest man you know.
[Keep following and I'll tell of the time my sister's ballet instructor hit on me.]
02 May 2010
I'll keep trying 'til it works.
The city lights blur and streak by and I
drive to be alone and listen
to the saddest songs that make me
feel less a fool.
I pull off the road
park in a rest stop
scrawl these lines out,
I guess, for myself.
I write these words out because I'm
too much a coward to cut them in my skin.
I write them on a napkin because it's
poetic. And because bleeding wouldn't do them justice.
Even here among paltry raindrops
and shady overpasses your ghost finds me. I've
always said I would become a trucker if my
life fell to pieces.
That doesn't seem so funny now.
Because at least they can sleep soundly in backseat cabins around me.
I feel a fool for the time I
spent pining over you, yet it's
not pride that restrains my tears but my
damned fool's hope. Foolish optimism. Whatever you call it.
To my dismay even my best friends abandon me now.
My best friends are words. Sad, I know.
But I've left nonetheless and I'll
come back even less sure of why I
keep driving away like this.
I don't dream. But I did yesterday.
It ruined my day. Not because it was a bad dream.
But that only my pillow was close when I
woke. And the realization that in living lies the nightmare.
I've tried my best to lose you.
In vain. Again.
[Keep following. Manly post coming right up.]
drive to be alone and listen
to the saddest songs that make me
feel less a fool.
I pull off the road
park in a rest stop
scrawl these lines out,
I guess, for myself.
I write these words out because I'm
too much a coward to cut them in my skin.
I write them on a napkin because it's
poetic. And because bleeding wouldn't do them justice.
Even here among paltry raindrops
and shady overpasses your ghost finds me. I've
always said I would become a trucker if my
life fell to pieces.
That doesn't seem so funny now.
Because at least they can sleep soundly in backseat cabins around me.
I feel a fool for the time I
spent pining over you, yet it's
not pride that restrains my tears but my
damned fool's hope. Foolish optimism. Whatever you call it.
To my dismay even my best friends abandon me now.
My best friends are words. Sad, I know.
But I've left nonetheless and I'll
come back even less sure of why I
keep driving away like this.
I don't dream. But I did yesterday.
It ruined my day. Not because it was a bad dream.
But that only my pillow was close when I
woke. And the realization that in living lies the nightmare.
I've tried my best to lose you.
In vain. Again.
[Keep following. Manly post coming right up.]
06 April 2010
All I Ever Needed To Know (Part 3)
"There were times when we would look at each other - oh Mother, I could hardly breathe." This contains elements of the first phase of our love lives and the second phase but it also contains a more developed third phase. I'll explain. 1. There is a sense of childish infatuation and lust in those words that cannot be denied, 2. but there is no logic behind this statement for Maria is planning on taking vows of celibacy, 3. and yet there is an austere maturity that is developing. This is Maria thinking out loud. Her understanding has not yet caught up to her vocal chords. She is saying that she loves.
Nietzsche would say that this statement is both Apollonian and Dionysian. It fits the Apollonian structure and form of true love. It is the embodiment of true and everlasting love, unique and individual, it serves to define her feelings.
And yet the very same statement is wildly Dionysian. It captures wild lust and embodies her sophomoric attraction to that which she has never experienced. She is drawn away from her life of order into a chaotic realm where nothing is sure.
One could say that true love requires both attributes although they are diametrically opposed to one another. What could be more drab than love without some amount of teenage lust? And what could be more unfulfilling than unbridled lust without some amount of the unfailing devotion that is love? Both make up true love.
And once again, I couldn't tell you why Maria worked out when the Baroness didn't. One thing is sure, The Baroness got it wrong when she said, "There's nothing more irresistible to a man than a woman who's in love with him." That wasn't it. She assumes that the fault rests only with Maria. That the Captain "Just couldn't resist." But we find out later why it didn't work out when the Captain says, "Well, you can't marry someone when you're in love with someone else... can you?"
I guess that is the the heart of the problem. There is no reason behind it. He is just in love with someone else.
But that someone else is someone who understands him. Maria says of him, "I can't ask him to be less than he is." For all her inexperience and naivety, she happens to be more right for Von Trapp than the one that logic approved.
So the next time you are feeling like you don't have any idea what is going on, just remember that Feeling may sweep you up at any second and all you can do is go where it takes you or bow out. And if you are in a relationship, don't forget the "Maria Problem". There is no way to prepare for it. But just be aware that there is no logic behind what you feel. Just obey. The answer to the question, "How do you solve a problem like Maria?" is, "You don't."
Take all this for what it's worth.
[OK my fellow Men, keep following because the next post will all be about motor oil and chainsaws.]
Nietzsche would say that this statement is both Apollonian and Dionysian. It fits the Apollonian structure and form of true love. It is the embodiment of true and everlasting love, unique and individual, it serves to define her feelings.
And yet the very same statement is wildly Dionysian. It captures wild lust and embodies her sophomoric attraction to that which she has never experienced. She is drawn away from her life of order into a chaotic realm where nothing is sure.
One could say that true love requires both attributes although they are diametrically opposed to one another. What could be more drab than love without some amount of teenage lust? And what could be more unfulfilling than unbridled lust without some amount of the unfailing devotion that is love? Both make up true love.
And once again, I couldn't tell you why Maria worked out when the Baroness didn't. One thing is sure, The Baroness got it wrong when she said, "There's nothing more irresistible to a man than a woman who's in love with him." That wasn't it. She assumes that the fault rests only with Maria. That the Captain "Just couldn't resist." But we find out later why it didn't work out when the Captain says, "Well, you can't marry someone when you're in love with someone else... can you?"
I guess that is the the heart of the problem. There is no reason behind it. He is just in love with someone else.
But that someone else is someone who understands him. Maria says of him, "I can't ask him to be less than he is." For all her inexperience and naivety, she happens to be more right for Von Trapp than the one that logic approved.
So the next time you are feeling like you don't have any idea what is going on, just remember that Feeling may sweep you up at any second and all you can do is go where it takes you or bow out. And if you are in a relationship, don't forget the "Maria Problem". There is no way to prepare for it. But just be aware that there is no logic behind what you feel. Just obey. The answer to the question, "How do you solve a problem like Maria?" is, "You don't."
Take all this for what it's worth.
[OK my fellow Men, keep following because the next post will all be about motor oil and chainsaws.]
All I Ever Needed To Know (Part 2)
Before 500 Days of Summer there was The Sound of Music.
We all know of the relationship that had every reason to work out, but didn't. Some of us know first hand how this feels. Others can only imagine. Leave reason and logic in the closet for this next one, folks. For here we enter the domain of Feeling. More often than not, in these circumstances, rationality is left behind and in turn, whim takes the place that planning once occupied. Fancy replaces reality. Common sense is exchanged for raw emotion. There is no understanding here. Things simply are.
The Baroness and Captain Von Trapp have every reason to be married. Both are wealthy and attractive. They love each other and enjoy each others company. Their relationship is drama free and steady-as-she-goes. But all it takes is one Maria to bring the clockwork to a shuddering halt. It reminds me of a Henrik Ibsen quote, "Your home is regarded as a model home, your life as a model life. But all this splendor, and you along with it... it's just as though it were built upon a shifting quagmire. A moment may come, a word can be spoken, and both you and all this splendor will collapse." With routine love comes also a forgetting of the fragility of things. More people than just the nuns are driven to think intensely about the "Maria Problem".
With prolonged steadiness comes a feeling of security. This isn't bad, it's natural. It's only natural to feel safe in familiarity and routine. All you need to do is work at a theme park to realize that behind momentary excitement rests drudgery. Often, relationships that have every reason to work well, simply don't. We could postulate theories all day long as to the whys and hows but that would be fruitless. It would be like trying to know the unknowable. All we must know is that it happens and it is out of our control. And sometimes, just sometimes, a relationship that has absolutely no reason to work, simply does. Let this be a lesson to us all, "You can be as mad as a mad dog at the way things went. You could swear, and curse the fates, but when it comes to the end, you have to let go."
The Baroness played her part well. She realized what had happened and excused herself, "Somewhere out there is a lady who I think will never be a nun. Auf Wiedersehen, darling." She kept her dignity and went on living. I'm positive things turned out well for her.
To be continued...
[Keep following for in my next post I will reveal why toast always lands butter-side down. I wish part 2 was more satisfying, don't you?]
We all know of the relationship that had every reason to work out, but didn't. Some of us know first hand how this feels. Others can only imagine. Leave reason and logic in the closet for this next one, folks. For here we enter the domain of Feeling. More often than not, in these circumstances, rationality is left behind and in turn, whim takes the place that planning once occupied. Fancy replaces reality. Common sense is exchanged for raw emotion. There is no understanding here. Things simply are.
The Baroness and Captain Von Trapp have every reason to be married. Both are wealthy and attractive. They love each other and enjoy each others company. Their relationship is drama free and steady-as-she-goes. But all it takes is one Maria to bring the clockwork to a shuddering halt. It reminds me of a Henrik Ibsen quote, "Your home is regarded as a model home, your life as a model life. But all this splendor, and you along with it... it's just as though it were built upon a shifting quagmire. A moment may come, a word can be spoken, and both you and all this splendor will collapse." With routine love comes also a forgetting of the fragility of things. More people than just the nuns are driven to think intensely about the "Maria Problem".
With prolonged steadiness comes a feeling of security. This isn't bad, it's natural. It's only natural to feel safe in familiarity and routine. All you need to do is work at a theme park to realize that behind momentary excitement rests drudgery. Often, relationships that have every reason to work well, simply don't. We could postulate theories all day long as to the whys and hows but that would be fruitless. It would be like trying to know the unknowable. All we must know is that it happens and it is out of our control. And sometimes, just sometimes, a relationship that has absolutely no reason to work, simply does. Let this be a lesson to us all, "You can be as mad as a mad dog at the way things went. You could swear, and curse the fates, but when it comes to the end, you have to let go."
The Baroness played her part well. She realized what had happened and excused herself, "Somewhere out there is a lady who I think will never be a nun. Auf Wiedersehen, darling." She kept her dignity and went on living. I'm positive things turned out well for her.
To be continued...
[Keep following for in my next post I will reveal why toast always lands butter-side down. I wish part 2 was more satisfying, don't you?]
All I Ever Needed To Know About Love...
... I learned from The Sound of Music.
Hear me out. I'm serious. This movie contains many of the combinations and possibilities for love and relationships (and contains some surprisingly good advice if you pay attention). Although the movie was made in 1965 the situations are still applicable today. This must mean that, for all our discoveries, the greatest mystery remains the opposite sex. There are three main situations in which we find ourselves when it comes to love. These situations change as we get older, but elements of them all can be found in every relationship. They are universal. This is the first.
For most Mormons, like Liesl, our first experience with love happens when we are about 'sixteen going on seventeen.' Things are complicated. We still live at home. Our parents (rightly) see our naivety and warn us of the dangers of dating too soon. Thus we are forced to keep our love secret. Hidden away. We have reached the golden age of invincibility. Our hearts haven't yet felt the stinging rebuke of rejection or unrequited infatuation. We charge blindly and love fiercely. We leave reason and reservations standing in the rain like unwanted party guests. Our lives revolve around this new high, and we give all we have for this new feeling; exhilarating and terrifying, like being in heaven and having the flu at the same time. Pulses race around twisting stomachs every time we read (or misread) a signal. We look for any support for our vain hope and we are rewarded.
That is, up until we find out that Rolf is actually a Nazi. Then the latent growing pains that were nothing but dull aches before turn into crashing waves that hit like blunt force trauma. We are suddenly no longer invincible. We all know what it was like back then. Everything was so grandiose. Our worlds began and ended with current circumstances. Any negative major event brought with it looming feelings of Armageddon, as if the world's very foundations would crack any minute. We live or die with our successes and failure. Girls would cry and boys sulk, too proud to let gathering drops fall.
But we recover. We find that we are more resilient than we thought. We learn that time is God's Band-Aid for emotional hurt. And we grow. We emerge a little more sure that next time we won't act the same way. Or, at the very least, we will be wary of the next set of charming blue eyes and blond hair that marches into our life.
To be continued...
[Keep following. Next time I will relate the story of how Hitler lost his bet with a midget. I mean little person.]
Hear me out. I'm serious. This movie contains many of the combinations and possibilities for love and relationships (and contains some surprisingly good advice if you pay attention). Although the movie was made in 1965 the situations are still applicable today. This must mean that, for all our discoveries, the greatest mystery remains the opposite sex. There are three main situations in which we find ourselves when it comes to love. These situations change as we get older, but elements of them all can be found in every relationship. They are universal. This is the first.
For most Mormons, like Liesl, our first experience with love happens when we are about 'sixteen going on seventeen.' Things are complicated. We still live at home. Our parents (rightly) see our naivety and warn us of the dangers of dating too soon. Thus we are forced to keep our love secret. Hidden away. We have reached the golden age of invincibility. Our hearts haven't yet felt the stinging rebuke of rejection or unrequited infatuation. We charge blindly and love fiercely. We leave reason and reservations standing in the rain like unwanted party guests. Our lives revolve around this new high, and we give all we have for this new feeling; exhilarating and terrifying, like being in heaven and having the flu at the same time. Pulses race around twisting stomachs every time we read (or misread) a signal. We look for any support for our vain hope and we are rewarded.
That is, up until we find out that Rolf is actually a Nazi. Then the latent growing pains that were nothing but dull aches before turn into crashing waves that hit like blunt force trauma. We are suddenly no longer invincible. We all know what it was like back then. Everything was so grandiose. Our worlds began and ended with current circumstances. Any negative major event brought with it looming feelings of Armageddon, as if the world's very foundations would crack any minute. We live or die with our successes and failure. Girls would cry and boys sulk, too proud to let gathering drops fall.
But we recover. We find that we are more resilient than we thought. We learn that time is God's Band-Aid for emotional hurt. And we grow. We emerge a little more sure that next time we won't act the same way. Or, at the very least, we will be wary of the next set of charming blue eyes and blond hair that marches into our life.
To be continued...
[Keep following. Next time I will relate the story of how Hitler lost his bet with a midget. I mean little person.]
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