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reflections
Feb. 1st, 2007 10:49 pm...on marriage.
Today is Dave and my 10th anniversary. We celebrated by overseeing the move of most of the rest of my belongings out of the house we bought together. Some went to storage, some went to my apartment. I suppose doing this now, on this day, was more than a trifle strange, but then... I've always been a trifle strange.
In an odd way, I think these last couple years in particular have brought me to a fuller understanding and appreciation of marriage that I never would have gained had we just cut ties completely and gone on our own paths five years ago.
Specifically, the realization of how much things can change if you just sit with them for a while. Rather like a yin yoga practice, but on a larger scale. In yin yoga, a seemingly easy posture, when held for five minutes: can be easy, then painful, then stretching, then relaxing, then agitating, then blissful. Emotions and reactions and feelings well up and spill out, only to be supplanted by more emotion and thought 30 seconds later. The process can't really be circumvented; there's no real shortcut to avoid the painful periods or the agitating periods. And frequently, how one feels about a pose in general is directly correlated to how one feels *at the point* one gets out of it.
In the last five years, I feel that both Dave and I have gone through our own emotional waves, at different points- sometimes happy, sometimes angry, or resentful, or worried, or lonely, or feeling unappreciated or inadequate, sometimes content or hopeful, sometimes vengeful. I really feel that how we would have felt about ourselves, marriage, and each other would have been irrevocably tinted by where we individually were in our own minds when leaving the asana.
Doing nothing can, in fact, be the best thing to do. Because if it's not possible to see a clear path, if every possible choice at the time seemingly would inflict pain or hurt on someone- well, things will inevitably change. A new wave will come. Finally, after so many years of thinking and learning and ultimately appreciating who we both are- it feels like we've got a wave that both of us can ride out to happiness. We can both take away something positive from our time together, and look forward to a solid friendship. In the end, it wasn't laziness, as I would occasionally glibly reply when interrogated as to why on earth we weren't divorced yet. It was hard work for both of us, to not blindly rush away or lash out when things hurt. It was an awareness that there was something still to be learned, that the right time hadn't come yet.
I finally see a path, and I think it's a pretty good one.
Namaste.
Today is Dave and my 10th anniversary. We celebrated by overseeing the move of most of the rest of my belongings out of the house we bought together. Some went to storage, some went to my apartment. I suppose doing this now, on this day, was more than a trifle strange, but then... I've always been a trifle strange.
In an odd way, I think these last couple years in particular have brought me to a fuller understanding and appreciation of marriage that I never would have gained had we just cut ties completely and gone on our own paths five years ago.
Specifically, the realization of how much things can change if you just sit with them for a while. Rather like a yin yoga practice, but on a larger scale. In yin yoga, a seemingly easy posture, when held for five minutes: can be easy, then painful, then stretching, then relaxing, then agitating, then blissful. Emotions and reactions and feelings well up and spill out, only to be supplanted by more emotion and thought 30 seconds later. The process can't really be circumvented; there's no real shortcut to avoid the painful periods or the agitating periods. And frequently, how one feels about a pose in general is directly correlated to how one feels *at the point* one gets out of it.
In the last five years, I feel that both Dave and I have gone through our own emotional waves, at different points- sometimes happy, sometimes angry, or resentful, or worried, or lonely, or feeling unappreciated or inadequate, sometimes content or hopeful, sometimes vengeful. I really feel that how we would have felt about ourselves, marriage, and each other would have been irrevocably tinted by where we individually were in our own minds when leaving the asana.
Doing nothing can, in fact, be the best thing to do. Because if it's not possible to see a clear path, if every possible choice at the time seemingly would inflict pain or hurt on someone- well, things will inevitably change. A new wave will come. Finally, after so many years of thinking and learning and ultimately appreciating who we both are- it feels like we've got a wave that both of us can ride out to happiness. We can both take away something positive from our time together, and look forward to a solid friendship. In the end, it wasn't laziness, as I would occasionally glibly reply when interrogated as to why on earth we weren't divorced yet. It was hard work for both of us, to not blindly rush away or lash out when things hurt. It was an awareness that there was something still to be learned, that the right time hadn't come yet.
I finally see a path, and I think it's a pretty good one.
Namaste.
