My late friend Tracie found it infuriating that I wouldn't allow her to visit me at my house without someone else there to chaperone. Truth is, she should understand now that she's dead that it was a great compliment to her that I would allow her in at all. Besides her, there is only one other woman about whom I ever cared that I would have allowed into my house, and that's saying something. Most people don't really understand just how much our identity and peace of mind are tied to our domicile, and they invite people of all sorts to visit them and traipse around in the places they have of refuge. I already wrote about my house being a refuge, but it's really true. It's part of our defense and display of our own true selves.
It's very personal who you allow into the inner sanctum of your life. Your house, it's location, decor, etc., are in many ways extensions and reflections of your innermost self. No matter how you try, because you live there, it tells me things about you that you might not want me to know. You put on display the things that matter most to you and that you want to impress on visitors as meaningful. You leave other things out or in places that tell me truths you didn't know you were telling. When you have guests over, you probably clean, organize, and maybe even put out things to make it more welcoming. You spruce up your visage so that people will see you in a good light. You're inviting them in, and you want them to see your best self. Six years ago, the girl I was seeing wanted to visit me where I was staying. I wasn't comfortable with that. At the time, I told her she couldn't come because nobody was there, so I sent her pictures, but truth be told, I realize now that I didn't really want to allow her to come over. I didn't want to let her in. By contrast, I never felt inclined to change anything the three times Tracie came to visit. She was never alone, never stayed long, and never came with much advance notice. She already kind of knew all about me anyway (which was the major reason why we never dated). I didn't feel like I had to put on airs. Only one other woman regarded me that way. I didn't have to do anything special to impress her; I just had to be me. It's just a shame that she found something in who I was to reject me after all.
After hiking a few weeks ago, having walked 12 miles on the mountain, I came home and cleaned up everything. I swept and mopped the floors, tidied up the yard, cleaned the bathrooms, did dishes and laundry, and I even vacuumed, washed, and tidied the Saturn. Yeah, my saturn! Bestill your hearts! I haven't cleaned like that for two years when I thought a woman about whom I really cared might one day come by. However, most men I know clean when a woman is coming over because they are "hoping to get lucky". I have nobody special, nobody even with potential. It just felt right. Like the yard on which I finally worked, I decided that some things need to be done even if nobody sees them. Now, I wasn't going to invite this particular woman over to live with me because I'm trying to live a virtuous life, but if she came over, I wanted her to feel comfortable and think that I cared about taking care of things so she'd know I'd take care of her.
Most people don't seem willing to be selective about their company. Unable to discern between attraction and love, they invite a hit parade of guests into their hearts, their lives, their homes, and their beds. When things don't work out because they don't really love them the way that they think they do, it leaves emotional and psychological damage. Those same people go out and continue looking for "love" in all the wrong places, inviting people into their inner sanctum, changing only their sheets if they're lucky or moving to another apartment. Maybe that's why, when so many relationships fall apart, the people move away. Let's not pretend that the people we know are living chaste lives; as a member of academia, I know that when students tell me about their significant other, they mean the person with whom they are being physically intimate today. We are too free with whom we allow access to our intimate places.
I realized recently that I like very few people enough to invite them into my house and by extension into my life. You probably know people who consider you a friend but who never come over or never invite you over. The most intimate of relationships (platonic and romantic) only exist within the walls of a home. I would invite very few people over because it's my place, and I'm not there to validate or impress them. I know my decor is masculine and sterile, but it's where I live my life, and I'm not sure I want to invite everyone I meet into it. My parents worried about me when I was young because I didn't really date much. I realized that since my father was in the military we would be moving soon, and so none of those girls would be part of my life for any length of time, let alone eternity. I really only started dating seriously when I was 21, when I was near to finishing college and the duration and location of stay depended mostly on me.
Especially sacrosanct ought to be the bedroom, the boudoir. I realize that many people invite anyone they like, and if I had kids, I wouldn't let them have friends of other genders in their rooms alone. You know what I mean. When I was young, my parents rarely allowed us into their bedroom, and as an adult I feel awkward entering the private quarters of another person. It's their most intimate place in their home, and it's probably not a place to which we should allow as free access as we do. Far too many people allow anyone willing to join them in their bedroom and in their bed. A former employee of the college told me about a year or so ago that although he had an attractive and loyal girlfriend he would troll the clubs and bars looking for one night stands. I'm sorry, but I'm not really excited to share, particularly that. I sleep there, and I like to sleep soundly knowing that nobody has been in my bed who shouldn't be.
In the modern, materialistic, and immoral time in which we live, people are very free with their intimacy. A few years ago, I sold my extra bed to a former student worker after his fiancee called off the engagement and moved away. He said I probably wouldn't understand it, but I did. He wanted to get rid of the bed because it contained emotional attachment to her, and he was trying to divest himself of ties. The best way to avoid this in a world void of chaperones lies in doing things in public places, with other people, and during daylight hours, not because we do not want greater intimacy but because we value meaningful connections with people. All too often, people feed us the usual- flowers, chocolates, and promises they don't intend to keep. It is well known that most men use "love" as a ruse to get sex. Many women have overpromised and underdelivered in my life. Each of them have their own reasons. The reasons matter, because the reason we do a thing matters at least as much as what we do. With the exception of one, they left for selfish reasons, and she is the only one for whom I pine.
Nobody really teaches us how to let people in, how far to let them in, or who should have access. They teach us to be wary of strangers, and then we find ourselves surrounded by them as adults, particularly when we're looking for a date/mate. We cast up walls around us only after our intimate places are violated and ransacked by people we think we can trust. Each of us is born naive and trusting, and each time someone betrays that trust and hurts us, we throw up walls. Usually they are emotional. Usually we employ bitterness and cynicism as a bailiwick against future siege of our heart, mind, and life by people who will spoil our substance. Even people who don't intend to ransack our refuge sometimes do it, and when they do, we rightly feel hurt, resisting future attempts to truly let people into our lives. We keep them at bay, at arm's length, and rather than emotionally connecting, we use them for whatever gain we can obtain. Their future is not the same as the past of those who hurt us, but we don't want to risk it, and sometimes we do unto others before they do unto us.
It's easy to understand; we do this because we have been betrayed. We allow our walls to come down, let down our guard, and then they stab us in the back and leave us bloodied and dying while they spoil our lives. We need to think the best of people that we love- believe the good and doubt the bad. We need to believe that those we love would do differently if they only knew better, if they knew how it hurt us. My biggest grouse against my ex wife is that, when I needed her most, she took the side of my detractors, my enemies, and without corroboration bought their lies. I know exactly when she quit the marriage, and for a long time I resisted further betrayal by being callous and belligerent with every woman I met. Thanks to Wil, I finally realized it when he heard me berate my sister and asked me why I hated women. Usually when I get burned, I burn the bridges. Partly, it's to settle the score; the rest is to heal. In one single case, you may have noticed I've kept an olive branch out just in case she wants to take it. Trouble is, two years later, nothing helps, which is interesting because I've never cared about anyone this long after the fact before. Two years later, I would welcome that woman into my house even though she hurt me.
True satisfaction in life is not just living but finding a reason to live, a reason to love, a person to love. We do not find the purpose of life alone; we find it with someone else. Perhaps for this reason God emphasizes family so much. Void of my own family, I find the greatest satisfaction in the company of my family, which is probably why losing all of my grandparents this year hurt me so badly. I lost several of my strongest cheerleaders. In those tender moments, my relationships with my sibligns and parents provided the balm in Gilead to get me through the day, the month, and the pain because we have real relationships. My hiking buddy has seen me interact with my sister and told me he wishes he had that kind of strong relationship with his sister. It's the only relationship with a woman that I really have. Loving heals, it mends our souls, and it makes our life more meaningful. Having someone to love and whom I thought appreciated my love made for the best year of my life. Christ taught us to be charitable, to love the unlovable, even if they are our own kin. He encouraged us to serve others because we're all part of the family of man, especially until we find someone particular to love and with whom to found a forever family. Even a momentary, random act of kindness done out of true love makes life easier and more meaningful that day. Trouble is, in order to love, we have to let people in, to give them power to hurt us and hope they won't use it. This means we will have pain. Our pain from lost love lasts until new love comes to fill our hearts. It doesn't replace it. It gives us something else on which to focus. Love is the only real satisfaction in life, true love, not that selfish and fake love on TV and in stories and elsewhere. Not many people get a second shot at their true love. If you do, make it a good one.
Your heart knows the truth. Trust it, for life is short. --Guenivere Pettigrew
1 comment:
Perfectly said. I love your thoughts, your standards and your ability to share them. xo
Post a Comment