I'll Be Better When I'm Older

Tonight I went to that Presbyterian-Muslim Dialogue I mentioned previously.  It was quite interesting.

However, as is sometimes the case, that's not what I wish to discuss right now.

A possible advantage to the fact that it takes me an hour and a half to get from Bloomingdale (where I work) to Evanston (where I worship) is that I get a lot of time to think.  Because I am admittedly somewhat anxious and excited about dinner with Chris tomorrow evening, I found myself thinking about relationships, and especially what went wrong with Trevor.

Well, those who keep up with this website already know what went wrong with Trevor, or at least, know well enough.  Those reading this who don't know what happened I suspect are very much in the minority, and really, the details of went wrong are not important enough to warrant a re-telling of that whole messy affair (as of Monday night, affectionately termed as "The W", for reasons that would only make sense to me and the girls).

Rather, I would like to go over the lessons gained from that experience.  In The Way Forward is With a Broken Heart, Alice Walker states "our lovers are all teachers who arrive with important lessons that, if understood, can help us to grow."  And I have learned from Trevor.

I understand now the importance of having boundaries, and knowing where they are.  I also realize the importance of having enough self-discipline to maintain those boundaries.  The boundaries do not have to be rigid, and in fact, in affairs of the heart, they should perhaps NOT be rigid.  Rather, they should be flexible within reason.  Much like a balloon...you can inflate it if you like, but only so much.  Allow your boundaries to bend, but don't take it to the breaking point.

Unfortunately, I don't know all the rules.  I don't even know if dinner with Chris constitutes a "date" or not.  I'm still trying to learn.  And I don't really like the expression "rules" because it seems to imply to me a rigidity at which I am inclined to balk.  And it's not like there's really a set guideline anyway.  Every relationship that I've observed, it seems, has its own individual set of "rules" specific to the couple.  In many cases, those rules cannot be easily applied to other relationships.

That's frustrating.

I've also learned that it's not necessarily advisable to allow yourself to be helpless in a relationship.  In fact, it can be downright unhealthy if it's not the right person.

Now, for me at least, I will admit that, conceptually, there is a certain allure to the aspect of helplessness in a relationship.  To hang upon every nuance of your lover, to become lost in him, to have your world consumed by him.  However, it's got to be the right person.  Trevor was not at all the right person.  And while I did not exactly allow myself to be helpless to him, I am forced to confess that there was a part of me looking to do that.  And it was that part which was most injured by Trevor's behavior.

Helplessness can be a good thing, but it's got to be a slow surrender, I think.  For me, anyway.  I've got to learn not to fall too early or too quickly.  In fact, rather than fall in love, I think it would be more appropriate for me to descend into love.  The verb "descend" seems to imply a more controlled fall.  I would never say that people who are skyjumping are falling to the ground.  They are descending, or gently gliding toward earth.  They are not falling.  At least, not once they pull the ripcord.

So, I've got to be more cautious, I think.  The problem for me is that my applications of caution tend to be stifling.   The applications of caution become so constrictive that they chafe at my life and spirit.

I have to learn how to protect myself without hiding myself, and how to share myself without exposing myself.  And I mean that spiritually, emotionally, and, yes, physically.

I hope I can figure it out soon.  And I hope that Chris is not a harsh educator.