This morning, I woke up more tired than usual. I had a list of twenty-one items to accomplish before the end of today. Most of them are self-inflicted chores but they were what needed to get done for me to start my week in a happy mood. As soon as I woke up, I knew this was one of those days where the list would get ignored and I would experience a depressing Sunday night, knowing I was way behind schedule. I decided starting the day in bed might put me in a better mood.
We start every Sunday morning reading the New York Times. This morning was no exception. I read the entire paper cover to cover and several magazine articles that I had printed throughout the week. After there was absolutely nothing left to read, I decided to take a long shower, hoping that would help me wake up. It didn’t. So we went out to lunch to get some fresh air. That didn’t help either. We then came back home and I went back to bed while Jake sat on the bed, working and watching football. It’s now almost 7pm and I am still sleepy and my list is sitting untouched which is, as I predicted, making my Sunday night quite sad.
Despite the misery of not having accomplished much, my favorite part of today was getting to lie in bed with my husband. Since we both tend to like accomplishing things, we rarely stop and be lazy together. Today, we spent hours in bed, lying together, hugging, reading the paper, and watching TV. It might have not helped me cross off items off my list but it was a ton of fun.
I just wanted to note that I am head over heels in love with my husband.
“Everyone knows” is the invocation of the cliche and the beginning of the banalization of experience, and it’s the solemnity and the sense of authority that people have in voicing the cliche that’s so insufferable. What we know id that, in an uncliched was, nobody knows anything. You can’t know anything. The things you know you don’t know. Intention? Motive? Consequence? Meaning? All that we don’t know is astonishing. Even more astonishing is what passes for knowing. – Philip Roth in The Human Stain
I am really enjoying my first Philip Roth novel. I will talk more about the book itself once I finish it but this small passage made me think of my friends. As I mentioned before, many of my friends are going through divorces or seperations lately. One of the first ideas that crossed my mind when I read the excerpt was how little we know the people we think we know.
This doesn’t just apply to our partners. We have so many people in our lives friends, lovers, even family members whom we think we’re close to. Whom we think we know quite well. Yet, we don’t. Or at least, we might not. I am recently becoming more and more amazed at how easy it is for people to hide parts of their current or past life. We tend to be inherently trusting. We give people the benefit of the doubt. When we meet someone new, we take what they tell us about themselves to be true. We don’t go off and do background searches on people. We don’t double-check their ‘story.’
In my opinion, that’s one of the reasons we get to incredibly shocked and hurt when someone we love turns out to be doing something behind our back. It’s not the jealousy. It’s the lack of intimacy that we felt was there. It’s the fact that there’s a part of this person’s life that we knew absolutely nothing about. The betrayal. The fact that we can’t deny the truth: that we didn’t know this person as well as we thought we did, after all.
Which then leads us to wonder what else we don’t know about this person…
Many people I care about are grieving lately. Some for a marriage that turned out to be different than it appeared, some for a relationship they were hoping to hold on to, some for time that can never be gained back, some for pets who’d carved special places in their hearts, some for missed careers, some for unrealized dreams, and some for unhealthy family. Talking to all these people makes my heart rip into pieces. I feel a strong urge to have the power to do what was undone. I want to fix everything and hug the people and say, “See it’s all fixed; you can be happy again.”
But I can’t.
Of course, I can’t. In times like these, I recognize my inability to be of any help. I stare my uselessness in the face. Sure, I can be there for them. Sure, I can listen to them and even give advice when asked. I can cry with them. I can hold them when they cry (unfortunately, I can’t even do that since my friends are scattered all over the United States). But I can’t make the pain go away. I can’t give health. I can’t bring back their pets. Or their husbands. I can’t make it right. I can just sit there and listen. And feel helpless.
The amazing thing is that there are many moments when my friends seem fine. They laugh, they work, they eat. For a split moment, they can carry the burden and keep living. Yet, when I think of them, the grief always overtakes me. I remember when my maternal grandfather died, one of my mother’s clients told her, “May God never give you as much pain as you can endure.” A rude sentiment at first look maybe, but a pithy thought. We, humans, are capable of enduring a lot. A Lot.
The difference between my friends and I is that they are actually experiencing the loss. They are hurting much more sharply than I can, no matter how empathetic I might be. The human heart and brain seem to be very strong. For many of my friends whose relationships are ending, they start to rationalize it. In most cases, the situation was a culmination of past events so they are calmer at times than I am. They were expecting it more than I was. They mourn deeper and so they make room for life again. I simply sit here and feel helpless. I feel apologetic that my life is mostly okay.
I respect my friends’ strength and hope that I have it buried in me somewhere, as well, for those times that I might need it, hoping there are none but knowing there will undoubtedly be some.
I used to make a big deal about celebrating pre-fabricated holidays like Valentine’s day. I used to have expectations and think it was important to remember the flowers and the chocolate and the cards.
A few years ago I gave up being picky about the little things and then I gave up major holiday celebrations. I decided the best choice was to take it easy, keep things in perspective and to remember that no one day needs to be more special than any other. With all the divorces going on, all I wanted was a pleasant weekend with the man I love.
Pleasant, I got.
A few weeks ago, the San Diego Reader said Saturn was closer to earth than it’s been in my lifetime. I had never seen Saturn and thought it might be fun and Jake loves astronomy so I asked him to find out if there was anywhere in San Diego we could go look at the sky. A few days of research showed us that the San Diego Astronomy Association has a regular Stars at Mission Trails event where people can show up and use the members’ telescopes to look at the sky. Friday night, we drove to the campground and I got my first peek at Saturn ever.
 |
The image was completely clear and I couldn’t believe how much of Saturn we could see. The Cassini division was easily distinguishable and I could see the south pole of the planet. We then looked at Venus and a few stars. I kept coming back to Saturn since, to me, it was the most magnificent thing I ever saw. |
The clear three-dimensional feeling left me speechless.
After we drove home, I promptly read the guide Jake had printed for me. It was my first time looking through a telescope ever and I image I will remember the experience for a long time.
Our plan for Valentine’s Day was to get up early, drive to Malibu Shores and have Jake teach me all about photography. I am hoping to buy a new, fancy digital camera and he was going to teach me all he knew, using his old but amazing Nikon EF2 which is not digital. We took five rolls of film, the tripod, my nikon 885, his camera, the telephoto lens, and the 50mm lens and set out for the road. Along Malibu, we parked on the side of the beach and he showed me how to use the camera and the different lenses for the next few hours. We then drove to Venice Beach and Jake let me practice which meant I used up another roll and a half of film. After a stroll on the beach, we decided to drive through Beverly Hills and head home to meet a friend for a movie. Despite the horrifying Los Angeles traffic, I took some more pictures, we talked for hours and listened to fantastic music.
Today I got back my photos from the developer and almost 80% of them were technically perfect. I learned a huge amount more than I knew about photography and I will be buying the camera some time this week and feel a lot more confident about using it.
While it wasn’t as magical as my perfect day this was one of the best Valentine’s Days I’ve ever had. It was educational, exciting, fun, calm, and full of love.
I love you, Jake.
I am beginning to wonder if marriages that do work are rarer than those which don’t. Since our wedding, last year, four of my friends got divorced or are in the process of divorcing. Another two separated. One of which was engaged and the other dating for almost seven years. Two of my friends got married and one of them got her marriage in a much better track. That ratio is six to three which is two to one.
Part of me has been encouraging my friends to see things from the other person’s point of view. To try and let go of years of resentment that we love to hang on to. To give it a fair and honest chance and to assume the best of the other person. But then there’s a point after which I also feel like life is too short and how hard do we work before we walk away? How much pain do we put up with? If this were a job, I would have encouraged them to walk away much sooner.
I know the answer doesn’t lie within me and it’s not simple. Each person is different, so is each relationship. But the pattern is becoming too common for me not to take note. I remember feeling the same anxiety right before my wedding. I kept seeing friends whose relationships weren’t working out and friends who were unhappy. I worried that maybe getting married would jinx my happiness. I know it sounds stupid but the fear was there.
And now it’s here again. Not as much for my relationship because I do love my husband and I know I would do everything in my power to resolve any hitches in our marriage. But I can’t keep wondering: Didn’t all my friends feel that way at one point, too?What happens that makes us go from that place to the bitter resentment one? To the place where the only option is to walk away and start anew?
What makes one marriage fall apart at the seams when the other stands the long term test?
There are times I wish that wishing was enough.
This is the eleventh year that I’ve made this wish and still I know it won’t come true. A wish that involves another person. A wish that is beyond my control.
When I was little, one of my teachers told me that my wish would come true if I wanted it badly enough. I interpreted that to mean hard work and strong will. I always worked hard to achieve my goals. Things didn’t always turn out exactly as I wanted them but when I look back on my life, I can’t think of one unfulfilled wish that I still think about.
Except this one.
There have been times in my life where I was too scared or worried to take a path. I’ve regretted some and not others but I’ve always recognized that whether it be due to weakness or insecurity, the choices were mine and so is the responsibility. In cases where my actions, or lack thereof, have affected others, I’ve tried hard to apologize. Many have responded to my apologies with kindness and understanding.
Some have not.
In cases where another person doesn’t feel the way I do about resolving an issue that might have come up between us, I feel completely powerless. There are many emotions I don’t prefer to experience but feeling powerless in relation to something I care deeply about must be in the top five.
I’ve talked to many people about this situation in the last ten years and the consensus seems to be that I should let go of it. “You’ve done all that you could. Just relax and forget about it.”
Easy for you to say.
I can’t forget about it. I choose not to forget about it. I don’t want to forget the fact that there’s a part of me that is capable of hurting someone so deeply that they won’t forgive me, even a decade later. One might say, that should make me powerful; the fact that I can have such a strong influence on another human being. But it doesn’t. I just makes me scared. It makes me sad. I care about this person. I want this person to be in my life again. I want to not have caused this much pain to another person. I want us to share moments of life again. To cherish the good memories.
Yet none of that can happen without forgiveness.
Jake and I started dating over nine years ago.
At the time, we were both in college and had a lot of free time. We started dating during final exams. Instead of studying, we pulled all-nighters getting to know each other. Sharing stories from our childhood. Laughing. Those days we spent together are some of my fondest memories.
Over the next nine years, we’ve had many ups and downs. Periods of great communication and periods of frustration with work, life, and other obstacles getting in the way. In the last four months, Jake and I quit our lives and started over. We spent morning, noon and night together for three months, in a car, tent or hotel room. We saw some of the most beautiful sites of the United States and we made amazing memories.
All of that was nothing compared to this weekend.
After two weeks of working, I asked Jake if he’d be okay driving to Joshua Tree National Park for the day, on Saturday. The park is approximately a three hour drive from San Diego. We got up, ran some errands, and got on the road at 10:30. We had conveniently forgotten our California map at home so we took what looked like a quicker road on the U.S. map. The fast route turned out to be windy and very scenic.
By the time we got to the park, it was well past 1pm and we were both famished. It turns out the park has no food so we had to drive back out to get some snacks and finally got to drive into the park close to 2. We took a walk through the cacti garden and climbed the huge boulder-like rocks. When we got to Key Point, we got out of the car and took in the hazy, but nonetheless jaw-dropping view. I had wanted to sit and read at the park so we grabbed our books and sat on the bench overlooking Los Angeles.
We started talking. For no specific reason. We talked about my new job. About Jake’s company. About being in California. About us. About the future. About nothing specific and about everything. We got back in the car so we could get on the way home before it got dark. We kept talking. We talked and talked. As if we met for the first time. With the same level of excitement. But a lot more honesty.
We put the windows down and sang at the top of our lungs along with the radio. We laughed.
One of the best days of my life.
I’ve been freaking out about the upcoming wedding.
For one reason or another, I seem to find an opportunity to break down about it weekly. A good friend of mine says I have the jitters.
I guess it depends on your definition.
I’ve always associated wedding jitters with worry related to the person you’re marrying. If we use my definition, I definitely don’t have the jitters. I’ve been with Jake for over seven years and I’ve had a lot of time to think whether he’s the sort of man I can spend forever with or not. I’ve had opportunities to meet tons of other people and still am fully convinced that he’s my favorite person in the world.
Bar none.
So if Jake’s not the problem, why are you freaking out? one might ask. It appears there’s more to getting married than the man with whom you’re tying the knot.
One big part of it is the actual wedding party. What has become apparent to me is that it’s impossible for us to have a truly low-key wedding. So the bigger the wedding gets, the more concerned I become. The more chance things might not go as planned, especially since I didn’t plan all that much. Not to mention, I have only been to three weddings in my life, one of which was my sister’s, none of which was American. So I can’t even swing it since I don’t know the list and order in which things are done.
But the bigger issue isn’t the day, it’s the ‘forever.’ The fact that I am old, adult and mature enough to make a decision that will last forever. Before you go into your diatribe on how marriages aren’t necessarily forever and I’m allowed to change my mind and stuff, I would like to note that I plan for mine to be forever. I understand that things can change and it might not end up being forever but, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to plan on having it last forever. Marriage, to me, is the first step I’ve made as an adult. College, moving to the United States, moving into my own apartment, starting a job, quitting a career, moving in with my boyfriend have all seemed less permanent. Less daunting.
And I can’t exactly put my finger on why this is so daunting, but I know that it is. I know that it means more responsibility. It means more mature behavior. It is a door to more responsibility, such as having children. It’s a step where I can see the tunnel that is the rest of my life. Jake is someone I want by me for each of the steps I will make down that tunnel. So I know I chose the right person.
But I’m just scared that I could have chosen the wrong tunnel. And I’d like to reserve the right to switch. And somehow, until now I felt like I could move around and take different paths, but now that I will be married, everyone will be expecting me to walk down this one specific path and I am more likely to screw up.
So would that be categorized as having the jitters?
Previously? Richter at the MOMA.
The Almitra spoke again and said, what of Marriage, master?
And he answered saying:
You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.
Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of heavens dance between you.
Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other’s cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow. – Khalil Gibran – The Prophet
There were days when I would have been shocked by the above words. Together yet not too near together? What do you mean, I would have thought, aren’t we supposed to want to stand completely by each other and depend on each other and give up part of who we are? Marriage and partnering for life are all about compromises, after all. Right?
Well, it appears my opinion on those matters has shifted somewhat in the recent days/months/years. Not that I don’t still believe that marriage is about compromise. Actually, I think most relationships, whether they be romantic, friendly or professional are all somewhat about compromise. But I no longer think that choosing to be with someone means being one with that person. I don’t believe that partnering for life equals giving up self-identity. On the contrary, I love the idea of choosing to be beside one person and sharing and caring and fulfilling each other.
It appears I am marveling in the glory of individuality and sense of self. The idea of joining to perform miracles without having to become one thing appeals to me. It no longer seems necessary to make the eternal sacrifice or ask for it in return. Instead, it feels joyous. Like something I want to do. Like something I can do. Like something I choose to do. Not something I must do.
It’s not about giving up me, it’s about having someone alongside of me forever. Growing together but separately.
Individually.
Previously? Perfetto.
As I explained yesterday I’m not very good at coming up with ideas on what to write lately, so I decided to use the aid of some hardware. I bought If and a bunch of other several books in college when it was fun to talk about such random issues with random strangers. To be fully honest, I don’t think I’ve cracked the book since then but this seems a good time as any.
So here’s today’s question: If you had to name the single most important quality of a good mate, what would it be?
Honesty: I think honesty is at the root of any healthy relationship. Even though it can be mean or not-so-fun-to-hear at times, but it’s still better than any untruth. Maybe this is exceptionally important to me because I worry too much and am not always completely self-confident. Ask any paranoid, the stories he or she is capable of coming up with are way worse than any awful truth. Honesty is also the core of trust and once you lose trust, what exactly do you have left? If I know that my partner is being fully honest with me at all times, all the extra layers of garbage are automatically peeled off and we’re communicating at the most fundamental of all levels. An honest mate is a mate who respects me and values me.
What other qualities?
Compassion: Someone I can lean on. Someone who will care for me and take the time to listen to me and understand me. Sounds cheesy but I think most people in the world want to be understood. Someone to listen to what I’m actually saying. Someone who will just hug me when there’s no good option. Someone who will choose to be by my side through thick and thin. Someone who loves his family, babies and animals. Someone who’s not embarrassed to kiss me in public.
Laughter: Someone who makes me laugh. Not much to say here. I love a man who can make me laugh.
Intelligence: I like people who make me think, people that give me different opinions, people who have interesting hobbies, people who can introduce me to new worlds.
How about you? What’s the single most important quality that you care about?
Previously? Quiet.
Life can change in a moment’s notice.
My interview went well, thank you to all of those who sent me wonderful messages and crossed limbs. I don’t know the results yet and will not find out for a few weeks. All I could think of last night was how it’s all over and now I just get to wait.
I’m not good at waiting.
Normally, that is. Ordinarily, I am just as stressed as if I actually had a say in what happens. But last night, I was so tired, so worn out that I just wanted to sleep. Just enjoy the momentary lack of obligations. And then my whole world changed.
A four-word question.
A magical moment.
A christmas tree shimmering with red white and blue, lit up angels, complete shock and public applause.
A single moment.
It didn’t even stop there. It kept compounding. One set of good news after the other. One more unbelievable than the previous. So much so that waiting is not a problem anymore. It will probably take me a few weeks just to process all this news. Just to wipe off the smile from my face.
A single moment.
That’s all it took.
Previously? Vortex.
|
projects for twenty twenty-four
projects for twenty twenty-three
projects for twenty twenty-two
projects for twenty twenty-one
projects for twenty nineteen
projects for twenty eighteen
projects from twenty seventeen
monthly projects from previous years
some of my previous projects
|
