All the Wrong Places... Again (Updated from 9/1/ 2014)

 

Note to my readers:  Ten hours after I posted the previous article All the Wrong Places? it ranked as my most-read post for the first two years of my blog.  I'd written seven pages for the original post, but I didn't use all of them.  What I did use was use what I thought to be interesting.  In reality, it was simply happenstance, a bit here and a bit there.  I was about to toss away the balance of these notes, as I always do when I've finally published the post.  but, flipping through them, I noticed there was still some interesting meat still left on the bone.  Since the article was so well-read, I organized these "leftovers" into something you might like to chew on. 

I dedicate this updated post to Eric, a friend who was recently found unresponsive in his home.  He was alone, the love of his life having died a short time ago. But, was he truly ever alone? I think not.  He was never truly alone.  He has many friends and family pulling for him to come back to us.

My worst fear in life is one that several of us have - I don't want to die alone.  I used to think this meant sharing my life with someone.  How selfish is "sharing" my life?  And what of the other person, you know, sharing theirs?  Because of this attitude, I have come to terms with the other reason why my marriage failed.  I find it challenging 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.  If you're with someone else, you're against me.  I'm a bit selfish in this.  I want to be able to turn my back on you without getting a knife between the shoulder blades.  I want someone to love me.  I want my stuff, I want my space, and I want that space organized.  Yes, I am a bit anal as well.  

I downsized to absolutely nothing when I joined the military.  I started collecting crap again, several years later when I married.  Twenty years after that, about five years after retiring from military intelligence, was when my marriage finally went south.  I gave her everything, on the advice of another woman... my lawyer.  The wife got my life; the house, the car, the children, the debt, my balls, everything, including me paying child support.  After that mess, living alone didn't look too bad compared to living in hell.  I went through forced downsizing, for the second time in my life.

Twelve more years and I retired from my second career, a premier, private sector, world-renowned, Institutional Review Board.  For twelve years I managed to stay fairly downsized so I wouldn't ever have to give someone everything I owned, ever again.  After this retirement, I moved down to Manzanillo, Mexico for two years, working at my girlfriend's ranch.  Here, I was finally able to stretch out and relax, even as I worked my butt off around the ranch.  Even though it was her ranch, I felt more relaxed in making the ranch space my own, for the duration.  As mature adults, we made living apart work.  She 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 golf and country club.  I stayed 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.  I was 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 my new house 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 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 cramps which ensue,  this isn't such a big deal.  Recovery time, however, isn't what it used to be.

If your worse fear is 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 to your space and smile. "Hello, space.  Happy to be home!"  

It isn't about who or what we have in our lives.  It's about being happy, regardless of who or what we have.  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 it changes constantly.

It is my greatest fear, dying alone, with no one to hold my hand as I pass to the other side. No friendly face to smile at and to touch one last time.  No friends to visit my bedside, mourn my death, and celebrate my life.  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.  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.  Expectations just muddy the water and drain the deep pool of possibilities to a shallow puddle with fewer and shallower personalities to choose from.

So, that brings us back to, "What if no one ever chooses me?"  Will you wake up tomorrow?  Will the world come to an end?  Will it change the terrific, loving person you truly are?  No.  Is your happiness really based on someone else's involvement in your life?  Unfortunately, yes.  The greater number of us are not solitary creatures.

It is either an unfortunate or a 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 feel incomplete.  What some of us need to understand, is whether this feeling is from a lack of intimate contact or a 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.  Yet, others would declare there is much to be said for two ships, sailing different routes and, yet, constantly passing in the night. A deep and caring friendship.

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 someone else's life, much less make them truly happy that you're there?  Do you need them to complete you, or do you just need them?  And, regardless, shouldn't you first be asking yourself, "Why?"  I think I would rather want someone, than ever to 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 occasionally and have some fun; hold hands, fall in lust, or love, and then do it all over again, tomorrow.  Neither would we.

Life, like love, will never get old.  But, it will always be confusing.

"I feel too much. That's what's going on."

"Do you think one can feel too much? Or just feel in the wrong ways?"

"My insides don't match up with my outsides." 

"Do anyone's insides and outsides match up?" 

"I don't know. I'm only me." 

"Maybe that's what a person's personality is: the difference between the inside and outside."

"But it's worse for me." 

"I wonder if everyone thinks it's worse for him." 

"Probably. But it really is worse for me."

-- Jonathan Safran Foer

 

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 view any more right or wrong than the other. Opinion, presented in this context, is a way of inciting others to think and, hopefully, to form their own opinions, 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.

I fervently 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 offered. After twenty-three years of military intelligence, I believe that engaging each other in this manner, and in this arena, is a 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 United States Air Force Intelligence as a planner, analyst, briefer, instructor, and senior manager. Following his service career, he spent 17 years working with the premier and world-renowned Western Institutional Review Board, helping to protect the rights of human subjects involved in pharmaceutical research. He also served 8 years on the Board of Directors for the Angela J. Bowen Foundation.

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 a weapon for his war on intolerance... he chose the pen. He 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 personal, spiritual path toward peace and the final destination for us all. He resides in Pass Christian, Mississippi, where he volunteered as the lead chaplain at a regional medical center.

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