I Blame Her...and Her - Feel

"What is this feeling,
So sudden and new?"
- "What Is This Feeling?", Wicked

"Why are you doing that?"

My friend and I were sitting in the bar. To avoid an unremarkable evening, I'd co-opted him (definitions 2 and 4) into accompanying me to a blues night at a local music venue. In that comfortable state of mind induced by a silly beverage and too-much-drums bar music, I was recounting tales of discarded life experiences and missed opportunities.

"Why are you remembering all this? Are you stuck in regret?" he asked again.

I didn't have a good answer at first, making do with "Not regret, really. Just remembering."

It wasn't until a day or so later when I put words to the action. I was _feeling_. As a recovering codependent (a subject for another post) and as a guy, I'm constantly refining my understanding of the proper role of emotions in life. This world offers many conflicting opinions on the matter. Some say, "Live your feelings," some say, "Emotion is weakness." Some say, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything." Some say, "If you can't feel God at work in your life, you need to have more faith." (how would a less emotional person experience God, then? ) As I mature, though, I continue to explore and resolve how the "feel" part of life is supposed to work.

Long ago and far away, I used to be a homeschool kid raised in a super-strict subculture. I've alluded to it before in my writing, but you'd probably have to go all the way back to December 2006 to see a lot of influence. Over the last couple years, God has been digging recent brokenness out of my life. As I get most of that squared away, though, He's starting to dig deeper. Lately, we've been skirting the edge of sorting through "stuff Kenton learned as a kid".

I was taught things like "Always have faith", "pass the praise to God when you're complimented", "this too shall pass", and any number of teachings against strong emotions either positive or negative. A Facebook friend recently posted an article on how legalistic teachings on romance and relationships have continuing adverse effects on healthy relationships. If I had a dollar for every time I heard some variation on the theme of "don't be defrauding" or "expressing attraction shall only be done in a rigidly-controlled framework" or something of the ilk, well, I'd still have to work but could eat lunch for free for a week. And probably lunch at Chipotle too, not Ramen. Similarly, anger was always an indicator of inward character flaws; sadness was an expression of not submitting to God's plan; and so on.

I'm not sure what we were being trained to be or what the goal of the philosophy was. Were we to be automatons? Pavlovian machines existing to feel only at others' behest? Nothing healthy and mature, that's for sure.

One characteristic of codependency, (part of the definition, in fact), is to subjugate your feelings to another's will, whether well intentioned (weaponizing "humility" as a concept) or merely as a reaction to abuse (codependents can be often found in relationship with addicts/addiction is a family sickness). I'm still working out where mine got started, but "where it started" is much less important than "making it end". As I mature out of my codependency, I grow into God's vision for what role my emotions play in my healthy adult life.

A self-help book I was reading earlier this year particularly called out the importance to a codependent of feeling. When ripples happen on the pond of life, instead of being locked up by fear of others' opinions or reactions, the teaching was to feel what you feel, identify how you feel, what's causing it, and any necessary actions; then let it go. It's just a feeling - it doesn't control you. (The 12 Steps are rooted in similar truths.)

After growing up in the formulaic, rules-based subculture, my spiritual maturity took significant strides while I was dating Andie. She persuaded me of the value of being a human and feeling, rather than always thinking and judging with pure logic. Then she left and that systemic emotional shock left me "shut down" for the better part of a year. There was no "feel", just...nothing.

To an extent, I "blame" Andie in a positive sense for breaking me out of my "completely logical" shell. For that I am thankful, and rightfully so. On the darker side, though, I also assign her some blame for the rising tide of darkness that followed the stormy end of our relationship. In conclusion, yes, I blame her.

Years later, as I began a relationship with Mary, I was reticent to feel again. The way to a healthy relationship was to feel, but I was leery of being hurt again. Slowly but surely, she helped me peel off the scabs left by others and again I felt emotionally "whole".

Of course, we all know how that ended. Badly. My heart felt like it had been put through a cheese grater. In a strict metaphorical sense, it had been defoliated - the entire surface removed; no leaves, no flowers remaining. Then came that moment after you get hurt where you see subcutaneous flesh knowing this is going to hurt and bleed, but the slow red seeping hasn't quite started yet.

"I feel like sh*t
But at least I feel something"
- In Flames, "Disconnected"

I blame Mary for teaching me (again) to feel. (Rather more successfully, I might add.) I also blame her for the feeling of my entire life hurting at once.

That was a while ago now. I've grown and healed since. No more cheese grater, no more systemic shock. Presently, along my journey of life, I can experience, feel, then let it go.

That's what I was doing in the bar that so puzzled my friend - taking memories from times when I didn't process as well and bringing them to the foreground so I could understand, feel, then let it go. It's a better way of life - I'm less chained up with less "stuff" in my mental backpack. While I'm not entirely sure how I got here, I'm glad for the journey.

I blame her...and her...for bringing me along this journey.

Like the Phoenix

Like A Phoenix...

"First I was afraid/I was petrified/Kept thinking I could never live/without you by my side" - Gloria Gaynor (courtesy of Google...)
"Those who wait upon the Lord will rise up as eagles..." Isaiah 40:31
"I want to fly like an eagle/To the sea/Fly like an eagle/Let my spirit carry me
I want to fly like an eagle/Till I'm free " - Steve Miller Band

I think probably everyone knows the legend of the phoenix. According to a website I found...

The legend of the Phoenix has been around for centuries. There are a few variations, but the basic idea is this: The Phoenix is a supernatural creature, living for 1000 years. Once that time is over, it builds its own funeral pyre, and throws itself into the flames. As it dies, it is reborn anew, and rises from the ashes to live another 1000 years. Alternatively, it lays an egg in the burning coals of the fire which hatches into a new Phoenix, and the life cycle repeats.


This essay will build on my thoughts from the end of my relationship with Andie. The previous post or two should catch you up if you haven't been reading lately.

Anyway, back to the phoenix. Sometimes I can see me in my relationship with Andie as something similar. We lived for a while, and it was cool. (The phoenix is usually beautiful (wikipedia) ) Sadly, though, it seems to have died. If the remains of our relationship were something that I revisited constantly, if I paid homage to a grave, my life would be constantly tethered to that "dead bird body". I would always be reminded of what used to be.

However, the road I choose is different. I choose to recognize that what is past is just that. Especially at the end, it was not healthy for "us", and marginally good for either her or me. We broke up, and although I thought at the time that we might be able to eventually fix stuff, I see now with the passage of time (even though it's been just a few weeks) that our life paths really were different. If you look close enough at two crossing curves, they appear parallel for at least a short distance. With perspective, though, you can see just how far they diverge. With that insight, I have chosen in my mind to figuratively burn what's left of "us". Andie and I may be friends one day, if enough common ground exists. As of right now, though, I've got higher priorities. I choose to burn the old and move on.

If you burn something, it leaves ashes. Wood ash and water are used to make lye, a very corrosive chemical. Think drain cleaner, which is usually lye with additives. If you get lye on your skin, it will chemically destroy it. Sounds painful, I choose not to try :-) In the same way, I could muck about in the ashes of our relationship. Ashes of the past and tears of regret, though, will only make a caustic mess that will make even more painful marks.

The best option by far is to do as the mythical phoenix (except for the mythical part). Our relationship died. The corpus must be put away, permanently. It is only then that I will be able to rise above the old and be made new. Hot air rises, right. If I pay attention to what God is trying to teach me through this hot place, it will be able to lift me higher than I would have been otherwise.

One of the first times I spent an extended amount of time with Andie, I had just injured my shin. Injured as in "took a chunk of flesh out and left blood dripping". Thinking nothing of it, I saw the mess only when I got home. It was amusing as time went on and our relationship progressed to watch the healing process - first it scabbed, then the scab left. Next there was sensitive new skin around the sides of the hole left in my shin. Now the surrounding skin is almost back to normal, but a small depression remains. Probably that mark will always be there.

In a similar way, although I have put our relationship behind me, there are effects that will linger, not all unwelcome. I learned a lot through our relationship (much of which I will try to share, given enough time) about myself and how I relate to other people. Also, now I appear hooked on Stargate (SG-1 is better, but Atlantis is OK too), and my tastes in music have been broadened. Although listening to the Beatles will probably always remind me of Andie, I will continue to enjoy groups such as the Moody Blues, Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, CCR, ELO, the Allman Brothers, and Jackson Browne. It is a part of me now, just as my preexisting musical tastes.

Some lingering marks are not so pleasant. I thank God for growing restraint into my life. While the girl I marry will not be my first girlfriend, I have still saved my first "real" kiss for her. I was privileged to be able to share a lot of my previous and present life experiences with Andie, and she probably knows me better than almost anyone else, but I will also be privileged to catch up my wife-to-be with all the awesome ways that God has worked in my life.

One of the neat aspects of my relationship with Andie was that we were able to share a lot of everyday things that would have otherwise cut into our time together, such as homework or the various other school-related drudgeries. Now I am reminded of Andie when I do these same tasks by myself. However, as time goes on, the pain will dull and disappear (a process already well-begun), and maybe one day I can share these things with the girl destined to be by my side for the rest of our lives.

This is not the end of the story. It may be a while, as my full-time job is taking quite a bit of my time, but I will strive to catch up. Until then, my friends.