"Undermining my electoral viability since 2001."

My Love Is A Monster

Spending a week inside the Robbins Family Nest got me thinking quite a lot about my own rather barren romantic landscape. I'm being screwed by O'Hare Airport (as usual) and have several hours to sit here, so I figured I might try and organize my head a bit about this.

I've come to see my decision to relocate to remote Humboldt County in part as a semi-conscious decision to get away from women. In one way it could be seen as a sort of self-purification or monastic thing. Alternatively, it could be seen as a decision to flee. It's unclear, but all in all the decision was right for me, and I am where I am, so I sort of try to look forward.

It occurs to me lately that sex and love are in some ways skills, requiring energy, attention, and more than anything practice if you want to do well. It's like a bicycle in that you never forget how, sure, but it also really seems like the kind of thing where you can lose your edge; or, to be more specific, where I currently feel dull and edgeless.

So there are flashes of paranoia that, having taken myself out of things, I may not easily find my way back -- that I could end up drifting along nonplussed by the world, libido curled up asleep inside me where I put it to bed. That's an unpleasant thought.

And then, thinking of that mis-attributed quote about how our greatest fear is our own power, I'm immediately struck by the opposite idea, that maybe what troubles me isn't ennui or boredom, but rather a fear of living, of what I might do or be or become.

That would explain this semi-conscious self-divorce. If I made a move to cut myself off from sex, I must have done it for a reason, and that reason probably has something to do with me not being very happy with myself.

And, thinking this, I know immediately that it is true.

When I visited with my Father and family, I spent a good long late night talking with my step-sister, who is honestly closer with my dad than I am these days, having lived with him as a teenager and stayed closely connected since moving out and starting her own family in Phoenix. Talking with her got me to consciously see my old man in a different light, one which I realize had always been there, but I hadn't really thought of directly.

He's this really classically moral guy, you know? And even though I have a great deal of confidence in my own moral fiber, I know I'm not like that (e.g. I've used drugs and have no compunctions about premarital sex). And even though I don't want to be like that, apparently I'm not quite happy with how I am.

That's what made me want to make "more sex" the counterpart to the "less work" lead-in for my new years slogan. In the past, I've found my best and strongest love interests in times where I was sort of free and sleazy. That sounds bad, but there's a cycle that works between confidence and openness. Getting to the point of finding capital-L Love requires (for me) heroic feats of surrender and vulnerability. It's a leap of faith; takes a lot of chutzpah. Feeling free to get laid has helped with that in the past.

For the last year or so, I've been fighting against that pattern: pining away over the lack of love, but keeping a pretty tight lid on my sexuality because for whatever reason I got it into my head that doing it that way was "wrong."

Wrong? Immature, maybe, but where did that normative self-judgment come from? I don't quite know, but there's a lack of self-love there, that's for sure. There's something about the Shadow-self too, and something about permission to make mistakes. It's a lot to figure out, but clearly it seems necessary to get past that kind of self-judgmental thinking.

And the real downside, beyond the simple lack of practical success, is the slow bleed of self-belief. That dullness I started out talking about is looking a lot less like a lack of desire or edge, and a lot more like a crisis of confidence. Intellectually I understand I have a lot to offer -- not fishing for compliments here -- but there's a big gap between (for instance) knowing you're good-looking and feeling hot. Until I really feel it, it's going to be an uphill battle.

Similarly, the fact that my emotions and desires are beyond my control and could be compromising in a number of ways leads me to stuff the whole business down, even as I long for some jolt of something to break the monotony. I know this is no way to live, dreamless, repressed and un-romantic, but knowing that and living differently are (once again) two very different things.

In many ways this is familiar territory. Back in early May of '07 I wrote a piece called Fumbling the Flutter (Or How I Realized My Sex-Drive Needs An Overhaul) which still feels very accurate. I have a certain low-level confidence that things will work out, but it's sort of annoying to still be in the same place.

Hence the resolution/slogan: less work; more sex; flossing. I've flossed several times now, and should be able to take most of next week off of work. Hopefully the rest will come too.

Responses

I don't know what to say but for some reason I feel like saying something in response to this post. When you're not in it, love is monotlitic. It seems to exist. But in reality love isn't an entity, but a series of choices where you choose someone else over yourself. Because you enjoy it. Because they interest you that much. Because whatever. If its reciprocal, they're choosing you back and you somehow both end up with more.

What does this have to do with your post? I'm not sure. Except that I think its all more incremental than you've invisioned it here (and as I've read you write it in the past). You know you have a lot to offer. But perhaps in practice, the question is, what do you offer in each interaction, and with what motivation. That goes for sexual, emotional, casual, friendly, all interactions. What do you offer, and what do you accept? That seems to be where the moral balance would lie anyway. Could be that the balance is fine. Could be that you offer a lot, but accept little, wouldn't work any better than the other way around. Could be that you're not putting anything on offer, even in more casual contacts, because of these feelings you write about, which makes sense, but makes it hard for people to give back to you... I don't know if this is relevant really, but just trying to offer a different lens that might be productive.

That all makes a lot of sense, and you're right. The downside of being a thinker is being an over-thinker, and I do have a real tendency to get way ahead of myself. Makes it hard to be present, "in the moment" as they used to say in Acting school, which is a real killer.

I suppose what I'm waiting or hoping for is some sort of feeling that's so strong or sudden or whatever that it sweeps me out of that, but it's likely true that this isn't how things work. Salvation is a nice romantic concept, but really life is a series of smaller moments, and hopefully they start adding up. That's a good way of looking at things, I think. Thanks!

For a while i was unsure as to whether you meant flossing or, ya know, flossin' as they say in the hip hop songs. I see that you mean flossing. But you could try flossin' too.

Indeed, I think both interpretations will help out overall. Good dental hygiene and a little showboating could be just what the doctor ordered.

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