what the hell

"All my life I've been good but now, I'm thinking what the hell. All I want is to mess around and I don't really care about, if you love me, if you hate me ...."

So Avril Lavigne's new song is becoming a mantra for me now. I know I'm not in her target demographic, but in this season of life the opening lines of the chorus are really resonating with me. Why? Well at 46, after many years of living to please other people, I'm finally, truly beginning to recognize that that's not working for me. Let's see what happens.

what's next

So, looking at the date of my last entry, it has been quite a bit of time since my last entry. Well, while this space has been empty, life has definitely been moving forward. The biggest news is that Michael (formerly known as "Nigel" -- as mentioned in a previous entry, I'm dropping everyone's pseudonyms, except my own of course) and I have gone through a reconciliation process and are now officially back together. You know enough changes have taken place when you're not exactly sure why you broke up in the first place. Still, one big challenge remains -- distance.

Most days, I think I deal with it better than Michael does. Then I have a day where I question why exactly I'm 800 plus miles away from the man I love. Though I have to admit that, while I may not be in touch with why our relationship ended, I am crystal clear about why I left the Midwest to take up residence here in the East and continue to be grateful for the opportunity that allowed it to happen. In actuality, my dream is not for me to go back but for him to come here.

So why doesn't that happen? Well, it's complicated. Part to do with him (tenure) and part to do with me. For my part the reality is that I'm not sure how much longer I will be here. For a variety of reasons, my boss has indicated that, though she's staying here for the foreseeable future, she's not necessarily planning on staying here forever. Furthermore, the timing of her departure is linked to the timing (due to impending but not as yet announced retirement) of her boss. The good news though is she's indicated that when she leaves, she'd like me to go with her. The tricky part though is that means that setting down roots here can't be part of my plans. Well, at least they can't be so deep that uprooting would cause damage. Hence, I can't ask my partner to give up his tenured faculty position to follow me here just to tell him 2-3 years later, it's time to move on. Though I feel like it resembles it at times, my life is not actually a traveling circus.

So there we have it. Love is back in my life and while it's not so easily accessed, I sure am grateful for the gift.

what's next?

So the last few weeks have been tough ones for me and so many people I know. It seems like there has been an extraordinary amount of passings -- a friend's mother, another friend's father, a colleague's sister-in-law. The title of this blog though is not meant to evoke a gloom and doom perspective however. I am not asking "what's next?" as in "what else terrible can happen" or "what else can go wrong." I truly am asking the open-ended question "what's next" for my life.

I think with Nicholas's death, it feels that my life as it was for the past seven years is really over, and I find myself ill-prepared for knowing exactly what to do next. It's amazing how the loss of a simple routine (wake up -- shower -- get dressed -- walk the dog -- feed the dog -- go to work -- work -- come home from work -- change clothes -- walk the dog -- feed the dog -- visit with the dog/watch TV/read/listen to music -- go to bed -- repeat) can cause a complete disorientation in terms of what to do and how to be in daily life. There is this sense of disruption in which my life as it is now is not connected to what has come before it. Maybe Nicholas was a tether to that old life and his passing has snapped the cord.

Still, if I've learned one thing in life, these "moments of disruption" pass. New patterns of doing and new ways of being emerge slowly but surely and if we're lucky and open we emerge with a little more understanding of what life is all about. So back to my question, "what's next?"

sadder still

To this point I've been doing a fairly decent job of (to borrow a line from my all time favorite tv series thirtysomething), "maintaining a level of strain." Last night, I had my first dream where I thought Nicholas was alive. As a result, today has been a very difficult day. My grief seems to be manifesting itself physically as I'm not feeling at all well. I will likely leave out from work early today. Fortunately, it's a holiday weekend, which I'm hoping will provide some breathing room to get my head and heart at least a little more together. Let's hope for the best.

grief

The funny thing about grief is how subtle yet pervasive it is. It's like this thin film layer that just lingers in and around you, and when you least expect, it will just jab you with a memory, evoking the deepest kind of sorrow. This week, my beloved dog Nicholas (his real name; I'm kind of done with the whole pseudonyms thing) had to be put to sleep. And now my heart feels like it has been permanently cracked open and all of this stuff is just perpetually oozing out of it, often finding it's way out of my tear ducts. People tell me that it was the right thing to do. It will get better with time. Maybe I should get a new dog. Truthfully, what I feel like I need is a new heart because this one is pretty banged up, and I wonder if it's salvageable.

new year, new intentions

As difficult as it is for me to believe, I find myself typing this quick message on the third day of the beginning of the second decade of the twenty-first century. I think what is telling for me is that for only the second time in probably the last decade, I am starting out the new year with actually feeling good about my life. Rather than looking forward to the year to come with hopes that life will get better, I instead am grateful that life has been as good as it has and pray that it only gets better.

Continuing with a trend I started last year, I haven't made any resolutions, though I do have certain "intentions" that I will look to guide me in the year ahead. As seems to be a habit at the outset of every new year, whatever I call it, I want to continue to get better in the area of fiscal responsibility. I have improved in that area, but I still have further to go, and am hoping 2010 will be my real breakthrough year.

For my next intention, after about 14 months of single life, I am contemplating whether or not to enter the dating pool. Having no clue as to how to go about it, I am thinking of using one of those online matching services (and strangely enough, an advertisement for the very service I'm thinking of using just came on the telly; a sign perhaps?). To do so though, I need to overcome the fatalistic perspective I still seem to have about relationships in general. I want to believe that there is someone out there for everyone, that love conquers all, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, but the reality is that my last experience in love has left me a bit jaded. Still, I know that using my last and sole experience in relationship as a guide to what all relationships are like would be a big mistake. Hopefully, I've learned a few things that can make the next committed relationship a better, lasting one.

My last intention is to really ramp up my performance at work. I've had a successful first year but really want to have my work be more "impactful" in the next year. With a new staff member on the way, a more consistent work ethic, and greater focus, I believe it's possible.

Here's to 2010 and new intentions becoming new realities.

new york

It's early Monday evening, and I'm lying on my bed, relaxing just being two hours back from a busy long weekend in the city of my birth New York. As with every visit to what I consider to be the greatest city on the planet, I had a wonderful time. On Friday, I got to spend time with my dear friend Rachel, followed by a sumptuous dinner that we had with one of my two travel buddies Thomas. The three of us then met up with the other traveling amigo Dennis to see this year's Tony winner for Best Play "God of Carnage" (just amazing performances by the four leads in a powerfully constructed play).

Saturday was time on my own, so I took in a couple of movies (Humpday and Valentino: The Last Emperor). I met Dennis for a nice quiet dinner and then went off on my own to see another terrific play "Next Fall" (do not miss this if you have a chance to see it before its run ends in early August). The night was closed out by meeting the guys and Thomas's new beau Lawrence at a bar for (yelled) conversation and listening to the brave souls who partook in karoake.

Sunday was a trip for us three guys (Lawrence having returned home early that morning) out to the new Yankee Stadium. It was Old Timers' Day and I have to admit for this only casual baseball fan, it was pretty special being witness to all that history. Thomas and I only stayed for part of the actual game that followed the old timers' game, but we all met up again at a Mexican restaurant in the Village later that night. I had such a great time that on the way back to the hotel I commented to Dennis that unlike my usual feeling at the end of a vacation, when I'm dying to get home, I actually wouldn't have minded staying a couple more days.

Then it was up early this morning for the train rides back home (subway to Amtrak to commuter rail). For all of the fun I know I'll remember this weekend for, I wonder if I'll also remember it for something else? Perhaps that's why I'm writing this blog entry after so many months, because I want to remember it for being more. For all of the fun, this was also an emotionally full, for lack of a better term, weekend as well.

I guess that aspect of the weekend started with my listening to my voice mail messages on the train ride down. Nigel had left a message wishing me a fun time in the city and wondering if I'd pick up a little souvenir for him. It's amazing how a simple thing like a voice mail can unleash so much feeling. For whatever reason, hearing his voice went right to that old place of deep love and affection that I have for him. It's happened a couple of times over the last several months and each time it surprises me that that feeling is there. Despite the break-up and my fully believing that it is the best thing for me, the love continues.

Then again, there is also this deep pain that is co-mingled with the deep love. I have experiences like this vacation, and I realize that for the first time in years, I am actually enjoying my vacations. There would be so many painful and sometimes scary events that would happen with Nigel on vacations that I can't think of a one without wanting to shed a tear (or punch my fist through a wall in frustration).

I guess in the months since the break-up, I have come to a place that I look at the situation with a bittersweet regret. The regret is not that we broke up, but more that I fell in love with a man with whom I could not possibly hope to have a whole, healthy, fulfilling relationship. There was just too much brokenness to make that even remotely possible. I see that with my head and even with most of my heart, but something still lingers -- both love and pain.

And then, me being me, I can't just leave it with reflections on the past. I have to also start wondering about and questioning the future. I wonder "will I get a second chance at love (or is that a first chance at real love)?" I question, "is it possible that I will actually be able to have the kind of loving relationship that led me to trying with Nigel in the first place? Am I even capable of choosing the right person or of sustaining that kind of relationship?" "Is that person even out there? And if he is, what makes me think he will choose me? Is it even possible to be happy in a relationship?" So is this the legacy of my time with Michael -- that I think that relationship means great love and great pain but no true joy?

It's just strange. I am happier than I have been at any point in my adult life. Yet, there are these waves of sadness and loneliness that will come over me -- kind of like clouds that momentarily block the sun on an otherwise brilliantly bright day. Even though the clouds do pass, the shade they cast is definitely chilling.

I know, someplace in my soul, that I need to try my best to dwell in the realms of possibility and gratitude, realizing that behind the clouds the sun is still shining. It just seems at this moment, it's a little harder to get to that place than usual.