This morning I published my 100th post. Technically, it’s slightly higher, there are a couple I took down for editing and never put back up…
I had meant to write a 100th post for my 100th post. Here’s to 101 (clinks glass). For me this is an accomplishment. I’ve never stuck to writing this consistently. I can’t remember being as engaged in the practice as I am right now. I’ve been looking for ways to develop myself and my interests so that I don’t rely so heavily on my next partner. I’ll never stop doting on the person I’m with – it makes me feel better than anything in the world, it makes me an amazingly attentive and caring lover. I don’t ever want to lose that, I’m told it’s rare. But it’s nice to have some back up plans for when my partner feels a little suffocated and needs me to back off. I think given some time, my ex-fiancee and I would have gotten there… I would have puttered around the house, maybe read, maybe wrote, or hung out with friends. I’m disappointed that we didn’t get to that point – 10 months is not enough time to figure it all out.
While I’m really proud of the fact that I’ve stuck with this writing, built some new muscles, I’m disappointed in the things I’ve let go in order to do so (mainly my exercise routine). I’m also hyper aware of the fact that so much of my writing is about one topic and one person and the tremendous impact she has had on my life. I’m aware of the various forms that has taken, lamentation, apology, plea, confused one-sided discourse…. I’m slowly moving away from some of that (I think). My goal in the next 100 will be to seek out other inspirations (not necessarily women I date).
Last night I had a long conversation with my dad about this (kinda). He’s dreading Christmas Eve dinner. There are a few people coming that he has very little patience for. I tried to make the argument that if he goes in dreading, it will be dreadful. He has the chance to look at it as a few hours in which he can discover the spark that each person carries. He thinks it’s a nice sentiment, but he’d rather be reading – he knows them, he knows there’s no spark. I’m trying to see the world as full of beauty and sparks… have been for a few years now. David Foster Wallace had a huge influence on me in this regard. I’ve posted the video “This Is Water” elsewhere on this blog. Here it is again – it is the closest I have come to a personal philosophy. I can watch it many times, and it hits me hard every time. I’ve posted both version – I highly recommend the long version…. If I could have written one thing – it would have been this.
I really believe that we can try to see the spark of life in the world around us, but we have to take the time to look and think and feel. My ex-fiancee, B, reinforced this feeling for me – I saw such a spark in her but also in her approach to the world. It’s hard to pinpoint when my journey down this path began. I’ve spent much of my life reacting to my father’s overemphasis of academics – a reaction that I think has made me want to see the spark in the ordinary, has made me want to not just see the painting of the field, but to also go out and be in the field. He feels experience is the worst teacher, I feel it’s one of the best. Shortly after getting divorced, I realized that I had spent years not really living. I put a lot of thought in to the purpose of loving someone else. My first deep relations after my divorce showed me what affection felt like, my eyes were beginning to see a different and more colorful world. A huge step in that journey was my time alone in the Smoky Mountains and then my time with B. My eyes had never been so wide open. I began to see, for me, the real value in companionship and adventure and experience and sharing.
Having lost that has also been incredibly transformational. It forced me to discover different sides of me, to really turn inward. I’d like to think that I would have developed this inside of that relationship – I felt loved enough to explore and be courageous. The problem was that I hadn’t already developed it – I brought a lot to the table, but I didn’t bring this part of me. Next time.