My work hours here are 4pm to midnight. Those aren't strict because I often do some emails or online work in spurts during my day – and once in awhile there's an important call that's just beyond that time window that I'll do anyway. But those hours are the goal. Last night I finished and tried to get promptly to bed because there was an important, but brief Board of Directors meeting for our temple at 8pm PDT, or 6 am mine. I'm the Executive Vice President and it was an important thing to attend. Besides which – I am committed to that role and I wouldn't want to neglect it.
Life is of course full of roles and we play many per day. As I mentioned in a previous post, humans are a storytelling animal and our need to know who we are, why we're here and what we're doing give us the meaning and stability to live. When Sennen was little, Emily and I took a Positive Discipline class from his excellent Mommy n Me teacher. One of the key points in her class is that children need freedom within a structure – they need discipline or they feel out of control, but they need freedom to explore and grow. I don't think that only applies to children. Adults seek the same thing, they just have more agency in determining their structure.
Our roles are part of the structure of our lives. Emily actually teaches about this stuff – that we have prescribed roles we're born into the world with like child, sibling, grandchild, niece or nephew and citizen. And we have chosen roles we take on like professional identity, parent, spouse, friend and volunteer. Emily teaches her students about master status – the role that dominates in a given setting or time. When I'm in my home, my master statuses are father and husband. At a restaurant it might be customer or patron and at temple it's Executive Vice President (I'm even supposed to wear a gold-colored name badge at services and events about which I have very mixed feelings).
For me, one of the key purposes of this time is to let go of some of those roles – or at least play them far less of the time. In my heart, I'm a father all of the time, but active time on it is now about 30 minutes on weekdays and an hour or so on weekends. I have let go of being the household organizer/supplier – all grocery shopping, meal planning, making breakfast and dinner, packing lunches, ordering on Amazon, etc – which takes up large amounts of my time and headspace. I have a little more time for the role of friend and have had the chance to talk to a few more people than usual – which is nice. A far less demanding role. And the role that takes up the most time is that of employee and boss – my work. Oddly, one of the winners in all of this is my boss because work gets more of any undivided attention.
Because my new job is much more involved and busy then when we were here the summer of 2019, it serves to provide structure and purpose – whereas in 2019 it was the necessary evil to enjoying the summer here. Perhaps as the weather changes, I may shift around how much work I do at what times so that I'm out and enjoying working at cafes and restaurants more and taking it a little easier at night – mostly focusing on calls and things that have to be done in real-time. Perhaps when late afternoons and evenings aren't so chilly, al fresco dining at the increasingly open local restaurants will sound better. But as Hannibal Lecter said to Clarisse Starling, "You use Evian skin cream and sometimes you wear L'Air du Temps…..but not today….."
So for now, work provides a lot of the structure I need. But the larger goal is to shed many of the roles and demands in order to make space enough to bring down the temperature – both between Emily and me and within my own head. It fits well with the strategy I have employed several times in my life – if it feels overwhelming, figure out what you can cut. Most of the time, things that feel absolute or required really aren't and while there may be some disappointment around taking a step back, the results help. I am already calmer, my back and neck have loosened up and I don't struggle to fit yoga into my day (and it's actually less of a time commitment because there's nowhere I have to go, no arriving at class early to setup and nowhere I have to be afterward that keeps me stressed). No one is expecting me at a certain time and instead of making sure everyone's favorite grocery items are in the house, I just grab a few things here and there – and use whatever veggies and meats are available in the local shops to create my dinner.
But perhaps the biggest change is letting go of the emotional demands of Emily and the kids. I spend a lot of my mental and emotional energy working around their needs and sublimating my own. As much as I love them and it can very fulfilling to support them and live out my roles well for them, it feels good to let go and just be me.
One thing I like about myself is that I'm actually pretty good being by myself and not needing all the roles to be happy or safe. Many people busy themselves during times of tumult because simply being can be the scariest thing you ever do. Without the structure, without the prescriptions, without the template for how we're supposed to live and who we're supposed to be – what are we? That's not an easy question and for many it can feel very unsafe. With good reason too – because to really answer the question, you have to deconstruct your world, perhaps question the assumptions and paradigms you were given as a child and on which you have built your entire life. What if it turns out that a foundational assumption is only a story – and not necessarily a true one? What if it turns out you could have made wildly different choices, pursued a dream, led a different life, found a different fulfillment, escaped expectations that weigh you down? But you just never questioned something that once you see it, seems so obviously untrue. Everything was right there, you had only to question it.
My Bubbee used to say, "What you don't know could fill a library, and it does."
This is the scary danger of our storytelling nature. Telling the difference between stories and true facts or realities can be challenging even to the smartest and most aware. We make illogical jumps to false conclusions all the time. We follow our hearts and our feelings which are really transients and sometimes carry no more truth than that they exist.
Being alone, letting go and facing both the simple, but infinite nature of my being – and also the myriad choices and potential stories ahead of me can be at times both comforting and daunting. But it's not scary. I have had times in life of just being myself – alone – and thriving. Times that included learning to live in places more different than Patmos and being comfortable in my own company. The fact that we can never know the complete story – just ourselves – can be difficult to sit with. But once learned, can be a blessing and source of strength.
Between our brief conversation last Friday, what the kids tell me about what they're doing and the periodic emails about the everyday things like budgets, birthday parties and quotes for new grass in the backyard – I'm getting the picture that Emily is choosing to keep herself busy. Busier than just taking on the workload my absence leaves her. She's keeping social with friends and family, taking the kids to do fun things, getting multiple quotes on artificial grass, gathering pricing on multiple options of the kids' June birthdays, talking to multiple attorneys (not just the one or two I might) about supporting our au pair Alex to change his visa status and stay in the United States. There is no right or wrong to any of this – but it seems clear that staying busy is the strategy for her right now.
Meanwhile, my strategy allows me a glimpse of what she has expressed so often. Being without the obligations of accommodating her needs and emotions is lightening. Our marriage has involved an incredible amount of my accommodating her. It's nice just walking through the day not worried about how she'll react, what she'll need or feeling like there's so little space left for me. So often she feels entitled to all the space she wants and isn't concerned to leave some for me.
The irony, of course, is that her big issue is that while I feel relief from not accommodating her needs, she probably feels relief from not feeling like she SHOULD be reciprocating or accommodating mine. The demand of me wanting a two-way street or the heaviness of seeing me suck it up and settle for less and less weighs on her. I imagine she feels relieved not having my needs around and releasing the "should" she wants to jettison. These are two sides of the same story – and ultimately the gap we haven't figured out how to resolve.
Of course this is the story I'm currently telling myself. It might be spot on – or not. I could use the currently in vogue phrase that I am "speaking my truth" – which validates my perceptions and feelings despite what any underlying facts might say. I think it's safer to say this is my perception or maybe my hypothesis or as our couples therapist liked to say, "my read on the situation."
Earlier today, I asked myself, what does any of this matter? Why do I care what Emily's story is? Why is nailing down my own story so important? Why not just stay with being – at least for now during this amazing opportunity to just be (and eat tzatziki anytime I want)? I think it's because when this period comes to a close, Emily and I will either have to reconcile our stories to a cohesive narrative that we can both get behind – or we will have competing narratives whose battle will determine our futures and more importantly, the futures of our children. In the end, it will not be facts or a clear underlying truth that will necessarily determine what comes next – just narratives.
For now, it's probably best to return to just sitting with myself, doing yoga and just being. It suits me well and I'm becoming happier and healthier for it. On the other hand, Hannibal Lecter could be right – it could be that if I can just solve this situation, save my marriage, I'll never have to wake up to that horrible screaming of the lambs….
