All the Wrong Places - Revisited (and updated from the 9/1/14 post)

“You could spend your whole life searching for love with your eyes closed.”

-- Caroline George

 

******************************

Note to my readers:  Ten hours after I posted the original All the Wrong Places, it ranked as my most read post for the first two years of my blog.  I had seven pages of handwritten notes not used for the original post.  What I had used in the notes was happenstance, a bit here and there.  A patchwork quilt. I was about to toss the balance of these notes, as I always do when I've finally published a post, and noticed there was still some interesting meat still left on the bone.  Since the article was so well-read, I thought you, my readers, might like to chew on the leftovers.  Like most leftovers, however, they are a bit long in the tooth and the flavor has mellowed, perhaps a bit too much.

****************************** 

My worst fear in life is one that many of us have: I don't want to die alone.  I used to think this meant sharing my life with someone.  How selfish is that, like sharing my life is a rare commodity?  And, what about the other person sharing theirs?  What will they bring to the table?  Because of this attitude I have come to terms with the other reason why my marriage, of 25 years, failed.  

I find it difficult to live with someone else, especially if they constantly want to be somewhere else, anywhere else, but not with me.  You're either with me or you're against me.  I'm a bit selfish in this.  I'd like to be able to turn my back on someone that I want to be around for life without the fear of getting a knife between the shoulder blades.  I want love, I want my stuff, I want my space, and I want that space organized.  Yes, I am selfish, and a bit anal as well.  I'm also a self-admitted hypocrite - do as I say, not as I do.  I'm constantly working on that and on patience.  

My story started when I downsized, to absolutely nothing, and joined the military in lieu of being drafted.  I started collecting crap again, several years later, when I got married.  Twenty-five years after that, about six years after retiring from military intelligence, was when my marriage finally went south.  On the advice of another woman, my lawyer, I gave her everything, which, considering we'd been together for 25 years, amounted to nothing.  The wife got my life; the house and the mortgage, the car, the children, her debt (I had none), and my balls.  I couldn't even have my balls.  The horror of it all.  She got everything, including child support.  After that mess, living alone didn't look too bad, I mean, compared to living in hell.  One might say I went through "forced" downsizing to nothing but my clothes.

Twelve more years went by before I retired from my second career with the premier, private sector, world-renowned, Institutional Review Board.  After the divorce, I managed to stay downsized.  I did this so I wouldn't have to give someone everything I owned, ever again.  During this retirement, I moved down to the central Pacific coast of Mexico for two years, working on my girlfriend's ranch.  I worked my butt off around the ranch, but I was finally able to stretch out and relax.  I love doing mindless physical labor. Even though it was her ranch I felt more relaxed in making the space my own for the duration.  As mature adults, we made living apart work.  She is one of the few who understands the "loner" side of me.

I came back to the States at the request of my previous boss, from the I.R.B., to help revamp a recently purchased golf and country club.  I stayed fairly downsized with a furnished apartment.  Two years later my dad has a stroke and I moved to Mississippi to help out.  I found myself seriously downsized, again, and living with my parents in the spare room above their garage.  Oh, God help me!  Things would soon get better, however, as my dad and I started building a house for me on the lot next door.  I would soon have my own space again.

It really isn't the contradiction it seems.  I like my space, and being in control of my space.  I like not tripping over clutter and crap.  Unfortunately, I selfishly want someone else to be there when I need them, and I really don't mind reciprocating.  I think young people might find this a tough path since it leaves their opportunity for constant, sweaty, screaming sex back in the "hit or miss" category.  For those of us over sixty who still enjoy an occasional rousing bout of bedroom gymnastics, and the muscle craps which ensue,  this isn't such a big deal.  I say an "occasional" bout because, as you get older, recovery time isn't what it used to be.

Getting back to my worst fear, that of dying alone, I think you have to ask yourself what "alone" really means.  You can fill your life with friends, family, and lovers.  You can share your most intimate secrets with a special person, or persons.  You can find someone to occasionally hold and be intimate with.  You can do all of this and feel fulfilled, and then you can open the door of your space when you arrive home and smile. "Hello, space.  Happy to be home!"  It isn't about who or what we have in our lives.  It's about being truly happy, regardless of who or what we have, regardless of your circumstances.

I understand the need for a life partner, someone to share our lives with, someone to hold.  We all want that for ourselves.  I just think some of us need to redefine what it means if we can't find that special someone to be with all the time.  Life hasn't ended for you, perhaps it's just taken a different path.  That path might change, again and again, as a partner or partners present themselves.  It is life, after all, and change is the only real constant in the universe.

My fear of dying alone is about dying with no one to hold my hand as I pass on; no friendly face to smile at and touch one last time; no friends to visit me beforehand, or mourn my death and celebrate my life.  This is why I think having a "life partner" is great.  Many of us look for "commitment" in our lives, as though it is some sort of validation.  Can you have a commitment without someone underfoot all the time?  I think so.  Certainly for those that are older and understand more about life; about falling down and picking oneself up again, broken hip notwithstanding.  Can a relationship like this falter?  Of course, it can.  What relationship doesn't have its ups and downs?  But, it is still a relationship whether you live together or not.

As I addressed in the original post, having a special "someone" to get hammered with at a bar, on every date, is not the basis on which to judge any "quality" life partner, nor is basing one's decision-making process on looks, education, or sexual prowess.  Personal expectations just muddy the water and drain the pool to a shallow puddle of possible who possess even shallower personalities to choose from.

So, the question becomes, "What if no one ever chooses you?"  Will you wake up tomorrow?  Will the world come to an end?  Will it change you from the terrific, loving person, you truly are?  No.  Is your true happiness also based on someone else being involved in your life?  Yes, if they are the right person.  We are not solitary creatures.

It is either an unfortunate or fortunate aspect of human nature that we require the touch of another human being; an intimate touch that tells us we are loved and not alone in this world.  Without this touch, we can feel incomplete.  What some of us need to understand, is whether this feeling comes from the fear of a lack of intimate contact or lack of a committed relationship.  And, if the answer is the "committed" relationship, just how "committed" does it have to be?  For some folks, "committed" can become an asylum from which there is no escape.  For others, it offers a sense of security they cannot find in a solitary life.  Others would declare there is much to be said for two ships, sailing divergent routes and, yet, constantly passing each other in the night.

I guess my own view would be, if you aren't truly happy in your life alone, how are you going to be truly happy in cluttering up someone else's, much less make them happy that you're doing it?  Do you need them to complete you, or do you just need them?  And, regardless, shouldn't you first be asking, "Why?"  

For me, I think I would rather want someone than ever think I need them.  I would like to know my ultimate happiness is not predicated on their constant involvement.  But, it sure would be a hoot if they'd like to come along and be there when I die.  Meanwhile, we could have some fun; hold hands, fall in lust, fall in love, and do it all over again, and again, just to piss people off.  Life would never get old.

Neither would we, and we've been together now, the best of friends, for almost 20 years.

Editor's Note

(Re: disclaimer cum "get out of jail free" card)

Before you go getting your panties in a bunch, it is essential to understand that this is just an opinion site and, as such, can be subjected to scrutiny by anyone with a differing opinion. It doesn't make either opinion any more right or wrong than the other. An opinion, presented in this context, is a way of inciting others to think and, hopefully, to form opinions of their own, if they haven't already done so. This is also why, occasionally, I will present an "opinion" just to stir an emotional pot. Where it may sound like I agree with the statements made, I'm more interested in getting others to consider an alternate viewpoint. 

It is my fervent hope that we keep open and active minds when reading opinions and while engaging in peaceful and constructive discussion, in an arena of mutual respect, concerning those opinions put forth. After over twenty years with military intelligence, I have come to believe engaging each other in this manner and in this arena is the way we will learn tolerance and respect for differing beliefs, cultures, and viewpoints.

We all fall from grace, some more often than others; it is part of being human. God's test for us is what we learn from the experience, and what we do afterward.

Pastor Tony spent 22 years with the United States Air Force Intelligence as a planner, analyst, briefer, instructor, and, finally, a senior manager. He spent 17 years, following his service career, working with the premier, world-renowned, Western Institutional Review Board helping to protect the rights of human subjects involved in pharmaceutical research.

Ordained 1n 2013 as an "interfaith" minister, he founded the Congregation for Religious Tolerance in response to intolerance shown by Christians toward peaceful Islam. As the weapon for his war on intolerance he chose the pen, and wages his "battle" in the guise of the Congregation's official online blog, The Path, of which he is both author and editor. "The Path" offers a vehicle for commentary and guidance concerning one's own personal, spiritual, path toward peace and the final destination for us all. He currently resides in Pass Christian, Mississippi, where he volunteered as the lead chaplain at a regional medical center.

Feel free to contact Pastor Tony:  tolerantpastor@gmail.com