Armistice

I have waited a long time to write about the most intense challenge in my life over the last several years. I may write about the specifics of that another time somewhere else, but it seems important to reflect on what happened while I was waiting for it to be over.

I have had three different jobs, have slept in at least four different houses, and have been on three different health insurance plans. Other things have happened, too – I have made or re-made three sterling friendships, gained confidence acquiring new skills, and rediscovered a cultural environment where I feel more at home. I found someone who cares about me like no one else ever has.

This last part is a key point that took a while to understand. As a passionately independent person, I have never had the feeling that I ever needed anyone. Often, this inclination has had negative consequences. Regardless, people around me could be there or not depending on their preference or mine, but I have never wanted to rely on anyone. I have heard from multiple people that this means I need counseling for, but to me it seems rather self-preservative. If you depend on someone emotionally, on some level, he or she always holds the key to your satisfaction. People are often disappointing each other, so why not operate on a level where you take the good with the bad but can always walk away clean.

The relationships I have built over the last two-plus years have consisted of mutual enjoyment, trust, community, and commiseration. Ironically different from the kind of community I sought in different church communities, my urban family has supported me through my changes, my extreme feelings of failure, minor tragedies, mistakes, and triumphs. We support each other and enjoy each other's diversity. It's not a centralized community, but rather like a social octopus, with a couple of stable legs that are often picking up new people and ideas.

The closest of these relationships, the one with my partner, significant other, co-captain (however one wants to define these things), becomes more secure, comforting, and loving as time goes on. I said at the beginning that I didn't believe in romantic love anymore, that the only relevant application of the word applied in a Gandhi-Buddha sense. Love of everyone, the Oversoul (thanks to Emerson for the concept). She changed my mind and has patiently stood aside while I went without sleep, got sick, ate too much fast food, argued too much, and forgot important errands.

My blood family has offered support and encouragement to me through the process as well. From sending messages of support and embracing me in a knowing way, to listening to me spin out the tale. In particular, my mother and father have demonstrated the patience of three Jobs and, more importantly, the ability to listen and understand someone with whom you don't immediately agree.

My three beautiful shooting stars have been by my side the whole time. True, sometimes adult concerns and debates needed an appropriate editing-out, but they have shown me joy, wonder, forgiveness, and belief that I sometimes forgot existed in the world. My beliefs about larger questions have changed significantly in the last two years, but they have been the root which I use to discern goodness and truth. I read several years ago that having a baby was like hiring a zen tutor for 18 years – one that can teach you patience, sacrifice, mystery, etc. They have not failed me in this regard, and they continue to be my strongest connection to something I can only describe as holy.

If you are wondering, no, this is not the speech I am offering upon completion of my Ph.D. That one is still a ways off. But the pen, above, was the instrument that closed this chapter of my life today. It was disorienting, exhausting, and pugilistic, but it is over.