I’m not entirely sure why I started this thought and where I was going. Although for many, this has been a time that feels much like any other time, it has not been that for me. I am miles away from what normalcy looked like. I am not complaining. I’m trying to paint you a picture so that you understand. I want you to envision me in the place I’m in so that what I’m saying makes sense in that way.
The world is weird, and I’ve used this strange time to examine myself, to look within, to figure out where I want to go from here. Even with the world slowing tilting on its axis back to something that feels more familiar, I’m not ready to state with any sort of confidence where I belong in that spectrum.
I talk about this a lot, so I’m hoping you aren’t bored with it by now. It’s a big deal. A huge deal. It’s not something that’s reconciled in one paragraph or three posts or even within the confines of a blog. It takes a lifetime to do this work that I speak of on this blog. I think the real issue is committing to doing that work. Acknowledging that we leave the work and then come back to it, again and again.
It’s a process and one that is difficult and tedious, and we don’t often know where we stand at any given moment. The real hat trick here is letting go of the need to receive that feedback or have that kind of control. We have to be able to kiss it up to the universe and acknowledge that what will be, will truly be. It’s the most difficult think the world sometimes, but it’s necessary.
To that end, I’d like to go back to that space, or more precisely, the parts of us that crave feeling something in the most extreme way it can present.
Have you ever asked someone what’s going on with them and they look incredibly sheepish and then respond with “nothing actually, I’m kind of boring” or some version of that? I’ve had that experience a million times. I’m sure I’ve uttered that phrase a few times myself.
We are programmed to excuse away what looks like boredom but is actually status quo, or kindlier, equilibrium. We are somehow raised to understand that our lives are only compelling and worth sharing if there is always a story attached to our status or the way we’ve spent our time. That story needs to include interesting characters, and maybe a plot twist, and a compelling story arc and a rocking ending. Without those elements, we are gray, and no one wants to be gray.
Well, that’s not exactly true, is it? Often, we crave gray just as things are at full tilt. It is when we find ourselves smack dab in the middle of the color wheel that we want sunglasses or an eye mask, or perhaps a pillow. We will regularly express a strong desire to have things calm down and return to “normal” or some version of that.
You know where I’m going with this, don’t you? We always want what we don’t have on some level, and beyond that, we always gravitate to living in the off-kilter space that accompanies life unrest.
So much of what unmoors us as human beings is the stuff that should keep us firmly planted and well, tethered to earth. When faced with peace and calm and quiet and understanding, we start to feel itchy.
Did you watch the reboot of Sex and the City? Sequel? What do they call it? Whatever. I don’t think I’m giving anything away here, but I do want to give credit to where this particular example came from, so I’ll toss out a partial, miniscule spoiler alert disclaimer. There are two characters that are married, and one is feeling bored and the other, comfortable. I know, amazing fucking description, eh?
The partner who is bored craves something different. Excitement, passion, intrigue. I don’t think there is a single thing wrong with wanting such things. In fact, that was a major bone of contention between me and my last significant partner. I would bring up the fact that there are material parts missing or broken in our relationship (i.e. a physical life) and he would ask why I was so hell bent on ruining a good thing. Is physicality that important? Why am I discrediting the importance of friendship and reliability and comfort? Of course, I did what I am apt to do and felt guilty and immediately backed down and, well, out. What I’m saying is I understand wanting more and I understand how the guilt of wanting more can cause someone to stay when they have no business staying.
I also fundamentally understand that there is a difference between wanting the basics that a relationship might offer and feeling frustrated with the basic solidness of a good relationship. You need simpler? You can want to have sex with your partner and if that doesn’t exist in your relationship, you can make a stink out of it. That’s not the same as begrudging that the sex doesn’t feel the same as it did the first or third or tenth time you had it.
There is something in the settling in and getting to know someone in a meaningful way that is beautiful and highly underrated by our society today. Well, I suppose there is some reverence for such things, but then we fill in the spaces where we find deficiencies with other people (think ENM) or controlled substances or over-exercising or etc.
Anyway, where was I going? Well, most people that I spoke with about the SaTC episode advised that they deeply sympathized with the partner who was bored and unsatisfied. Some even expressed disappointment that they are not strong enough to break loose of their own arrangements. A couple expressed pity for the partner who was enjoying a stable, adult relationship, but very few, indeed.
Of course, the conclusion that many draw from this exercise is to articulate that we aren’t meant to be monogamous beings or that we don’t often get to find our “one” in the world and often have to settle for the second or third or fifth best. Rationalization at its finest.
X
L.
thepathtoworthy.com 