Notes from a Cathedral

I went to a fascinating lecture on Friday night by the author of the NY Times best seller Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert. I knew it was going to be great…first, because it was held in the National Cathedral, a place where I expected to feel uncomfortably awestruck (like an atheist who accidently ends up in an evangelical revival) but instead felt absolutely comfortably awestruck. It is a beautiful, beautiful place. Secondly, because Eat, Pray, Love is one of the best, most honestly written books I’ve ever read; a book that clearly touched the heartstrings of American women in a way they wish their men would (there were over 2,000 people in the audience, 99% women).

Gilbert is effortlessly clever, unrehearsed, and refreshing in her honesty. She didn’t talk much about the book that made her famous. Instead she talked about being a writer and being a woman. After her journey through Italy, India, and Indonesia to try to reclaim mental health, she predictably returned to the U.S. relaxed and confused by American’s sense of unnecessary urgency, relentless self-criticism, and exhausting work schedules. (If you’re an American who has spent real time abroad, you have returned confused as well, wondering how your own priorities got so off-kilter.) She smartly disclaimed that she didn’t want to come off as one of those people who spends 3 months in Bali and then asks all her neighbors in the U.S. why they are so stressed. But she did wonder why we feel compelled to “reduce stress” or “manage stress.” Why not instead “eradicating stress,” eliminating stressful thing altogether. Easier said than done, obviously, but it is a nice mantra.

She also talked about having kids, an issue that presented itself to me several times over the last few days. My beau’s sis had a baby, I found out my ex’s family are expecting a new member, I hung out with new parents who were grateful to have a night without the little one, among other events.

I’ve always been of the strong opinion that momhood isn’t for me. Kids scare me. They have big soft heads that bobble around, swinging dangerously towards objects like the corners of tables. Not to mention being prego for ages…your body is taken over by a sizable parasite, your hormones go ape shit, and you can’t even have a drink to calm yourself. All that work and what do you get for it? You get flipped the bird by an angry teenager and sucked dry of money. Then you get a mother’s day card. My terror of childbearing is real, however misinformed and dramatized.

According to Gilbert, 10% of women historically don’t have biological children. Though these women don’t leave a genetic legacy, they support those that do financially, emotionally, babysitter-wise. More than once an aunt has saved the day by sending money to an impoverished college student. More than once a godmom has been the understudy of the lousy babysitter who canceled last minute. It seems that those women who don’t have their own kids might be an evolutionary requirement, vital to the survival (or at least, the mental stability) of the species. That takes a load off me. Just in case I really can’t swallow the jagged little pill that is motherhood, I can still be a kick-ass godmom and Auntie Rach. It isn’t selfish and it isn’t abnormal. It is just a decision like any other.

Also, Gilbert said that she saw a study that said that women who don’t have kids are actually just as happy as those who don’t in their old age. Turns out, the things that really determine a women’s happiness in old age is poverty and health. So as long as I save for retirement and eat healthy, I should be fine either way, thank goodness.

Anyway, whether you’ve ended up on the bathroom floor in a puddle of your own tears before or not, I highly recommend reading Eat, Pray, Love.

Breakin' up is hard to do?

I'm a pro at breakups. I have them all the time and have managed to get quite good at it like one might get good at chess or snowboarding. I got another practice last night.

There are lots of ways to deal with a breakup. You can wallow in self pity. You can start nasty STD rumors about the newly excised. You can run out and have a silly rebound. My strategy of choice is to negate the importance of the entire relationship. The beauty of this method is that as soon as you do it, it immediately becomes reality...a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts. (This can be either good or lousy, depending on how sentimental you are.)

I have a well-rehearsed speech beginning with "I never liked him that much anyway" and ending with a complaint i didn't feel compelled to speak aloud while we were together; sometimes easy to rationalize (i.e. "He was an alcoholic."), sometimes more a stretch (i.e. "His shoes were too white and he didn't even like edamame.") However near or far i need to reach, complaining always makes me feel that there is someone else out there without these lame qualities...someone fabulous who is man enough to adore my quircks and like me anyway.

I didn't date last night's heartbreak long enough to be broken up about it, thank goodness. But, he did lend me the book High Fidelity, which i'm now frantically trying to finish before i have to give it back.

Even though i'm only on page 26 (ironically, a metaphor for the relationship that just ended), I did have much fun thus far. So, in honor of Nick Hornby and because my one and only forever lasting love will undoubtedly be music, here are my all-time top 5 breakup songs:

1. How To Fight Loneliness by Wilco

Well said. You do just laugh at every joke and smile all the time. And, most importantly, it is very wise to know that the first thing that you want is the last thing you ever need. Self help book? Not necessary. Just listen to this song on repeat.

2. It Hurt So Bad by Susan Tedeschi

I love her voice because it reminds me of Janice Joplin. If you need to be cheered up after being dumped play this at high volume with a group of sympathetic friends and sing along using empty (or full) wine bottles as microphones.

3. Greatest Mistake by Handsome Boy Modeling School

Hip hop has fortunately evolved to talk of things other than the constant pain inflicted by the opposite sex. Leave it to Handsome Boy to come up with a song that is simultaneously sexy, sad, and cleverly written.

4. By Myself by Res

This song is dedicated to only one of my breakups, but if given enough thought, could probably be applicable to the others as well. I'm considering changing my theme song from 32 Flavors to this one.

5. Heavy Heart by You Am I

This is quite possibly the saddest, most pathetic song ever written. I can hardly even feel sorry for myself listening to it, so consumed am i by this poor man's wine stains. If there is ever a song more sad than this, please don't ever share it with me.

And so another one bites the dust. Because i protectively guard my own feelings and selectively bestow my affection and trust, i'm somehow perceived as being covered in poisonous blowfish spines underneath my clothes. What else is new? I'm dating only thick-skinned fisherman from now on. Spread the word.

Biodiversity

I am in a book club and am notorious for reading only one out of every 3 books they choose. I don't know where these women get their time, but somehow they can devour one book per month easily. I finally finished reading our February book, The Omnivore's Dilemma, nearly 3 months late. And since I'm so late and therefore have no one to talk about the book with, I'll talk to myself about it. I've gotten rather good at that actually. All those fascinating and spur-of-the-moment conversations one would normally have with a roommate or significant other…yeah, I have to have with myself due to my constant state of aloneness. Olive helps some but she is decidedly not an omnivore and would prefer a carefully prepared steak for every meal. So I'm on my own with this one.

This book was fascinating in so many ways, but I won't bore you with a book report. Rather, I usually relate to books by marking passages that make me think about a situation completely non-related to the book's topic. This characteristic as a reader also makes me unsuitable for membership in a book club. What else is new?

One passage I marked was in the section of the book where the author is spending time on a sustainable and rotational farm, quite different from the industrial farms from which we usually must get our food. He is commenting on how the farm has an unexpected plot of land devoted entirely to a standing forest. Cows and chickens need grass to thrive and you can't grow grass (or any other crops) in a forest. So one would think that that land should probably also be used for pasture. More forest means less grass…grass and trees are antagonists in the success story of a farm, right? It turns out that the forest supplies a vital storage facility for moisture, wind protection, homes for birds that are natural pesticides for crops, and other resources the farm needs. In fact it is in the edge of the forest, the place where farm and forest overlap, that are the most productive and full of life. It is in the in-betweens and overlaps that nature finds its most healthy state of being.

This could be considered some sort of post-industrial Siddhartha story, the middle path or the theory of moderation. Indeed, it is. But, it also got me thinking about what in my life could be elevated by some complimentary overlap in another person. (See why I'm hopeless in a book club discussion?)

I'm inherently lazy, non-competitive, and susceptible to boredom. I am sensitive and demanding. I can be dramatic and moody. But, under the right circumstances, I am also passionate, affectionate, and indulgent with my friends and lovers. I love having people around me and make pleasing them one of my top priorities. I like to inspire and support my friends and lovers to follow their dreams and make themselves happy. I don't have surface-level relationships…if you're in, you're in for real and for good and I have no inhibitions showing my adoration. I think these characteristics are o.k. They aren't well-rounded by any means, but at 27, I think I can work with it.

What is noticeably missing is the overlap of qualities I don't possess. Much like the thriving grey area between forest and farm, what are things that I need provided to me and what can I provide? Of course, I can't put my finger on the myriad of characteristics that could help me elevate my life to a higher sense of meaning and happiness. The zillions of facets of human personality are a bit much to cover in a blog. But, I can say that after a weekend watching everyone in couples parading around in puppy-love bliss, my missing overlap was felt a bit more than usual.

So, I will now focus on identifying my ideal overlap. I'm not sure whether it will look more like a forest or a farm, but this should be a little more fun for my girlfriends and I…we've grown a little weary of the make-believe personal ad drafted on bar napkins. The good news is that I have lots of friends and their personalities compliment my mine immensely. From my mega-motivated boxing partner who gets me off the couch by hook or by crook to my sister who is a poster-child for responsibility and adultness to my organized girlfriend who makes me at least attempt participation in this stinking book club…I clearly know how to choose the cream of the crop when it comes to girlfriends. Even my furry little friend Olive sitting next to me reminds me that I'm lovable even if I'm hungover and haven't taken a shower for 2 days. Though i'm still looking for my own metaphorical farm-hand/forest ranger, my overlap is clearly very rich and diverse as it is.