Thursday, Apr. 17, 2003
It's the journey, not the destination. Just keep telling yourself that until you believe it. Because, after all, it's probably true., posted at 11:32 p.m.
Epiphany in Baltimore has moved to epiphanyinbaltimore.blogspot.com I am in a very strange mood of late. On one hand, I am very content. This spring break has been relaxing, productive, healing, and soothing. I've done some reading, some grading, some yardwork, some vigorous lifting and running, some coaching - all things I basically enjoy. In addition, I called and made an appointment to fix my car. I made a veterinary appointment for Holden and Tobey. I am trying to find a dentist. All things I needed to do.Yet, I have this vague sense of loneliness, brought on by a feeling of wistfulness for things I do not have. Michelle and Rob went off to South Carolina this week. Randy and Felicity vaunted off to Vegas. Jeremy, my frequent partner in single-ness and directionlessness, is having a kid. The girl I could have ended up with for good is graduating from medical school and getting married. I, however, have no one to do these things with. Year twenty-six is rounding the corner like the thimble in a speedy game of Monopoly, and I feel like I'm just drawing community service cards.
I'm feeling a bit stuck in a rut, at least socially. When I meet a girl, my thoughts immediately run to comparisons with others, and she never compares. Not that I put myself in that many situations where I actually meet women. That's probably part of the problem. Working 80 hours a week does not lend itself to much time for socializing. Without sounding cocky, I think I offer a lot to a prospective partner - decent shape, decent job, decent personality - yet I'm still single. Last December, I thought I had found my someone, but now I'm very unsure. I feel like I'm way too picky, way too guarded and content in my singledom to do anything about it.
Some of this is homesickness, I'm sure. It's almost May, and I haven't been home or seen my family since Christmas. The folks and the grandparents come up next weekend, though, so part of that emotion will wane. But just part of it. It's not quite the same if I'm not there, gallavanting between South Haven, Lansing, and Detroit and seeing as many people as a person possibly can in the span of a week.
I was not feeling these emotions before, but my idle spring break mind has ambled towards the canyon of longing that exists in the middle of my brain. It's tempting to live in benign contentment forever, only focusing on the flowers at my feet and the sun on my back, without even glancing over at that canyon. Because of its steep cliffs without guardrails, it's scary to approach it, but when I glance in, I do see my horizon. The large crevice holds the things that I want - the wife, the kids, the financial security - but it's so deep and steep that venturing there is fraught with obstacles. It's only when my life slows down do I even notice that the canyon, despite my contentment with my life, is still huge, and that I need to hop on that ailing mule and edge down the rickety path towards my horizon, my salvation, and my redemption.
It's times like these that I must remember the quotation that I have on my refrigerator: "For a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. This perspective has helped me to see there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. So treasure every moment you have and remember that time waits for no one. Happiness is a journey, not a destination." (Souza)
This quotation seems to me the perfect remedy to this entry. Yet, it's sometimes difficult to achieve that attitude when everyone seems to be coupling off and I feel like I'm going to wake up tomorrow and be my 55 year old neighbor, who is single, childless, still paying rent, and appears to spend most of his energy in actively disliking my rooommates and I.
I only think about these things occasionally, but when I do, they pack a whallop.