More of the Nothing

Rereading the previous installment I see that editing would be a good thing. As an improvising musician that's not so much my way. As a writer I know this makes me more than simply lazy. At the same time I'm not the one who heaped either title on my little pointed head.

And so I start the meander with whatever that was. On to the aforementioned nothing!

Reclusion. Isolation and solitude. I think for some the ideas are romantic or even comedic, but I came to them purely as a means of survival. We don't, as far as I know, have a choice in being born. Instigating one's own demise is both criminal and seen as a breach of morality. Most take it as a character flaw or a sign of weakness. But anyone who denies that life is hard is a liar or has never suffered. I've known a lot of the former and, sadly, a few of the latter, too. What a strange world we've made for ourselves.

Does this mean I want to die? Of course it doesn't. I love life. But the living of it can be a motherfucker. A lot of the reason for that is simply being human, but probably a bigger part comes from having to interact with one another and the fact that we're all so different, that we have to function within the construct of society as we've made it.

Further, both in terms of biology and social programming, men and women might as well be cats and dogs. We're drawn to one another but as strongly vexed by each other. Men are predominantly linear, changing slowly and preferring to stay focused on a goal but also governed in no small part by testosterone and aggression. Women are physiologically in a near constant state of flux and this colors  so much of a their lives. Women also, in my experience, don't believe men are as simple in their orientation as we in fact are.

So how the hell do we reconcile this?

We don't. We acknowledge that these differences exist and, should we opt for real relationships, do all we can to make communication possible and forgive often when we lose sight of those difference.

Anyone who's been in a relationship knows that this returns to that whole not easy business I brought up before.

I can't write much about men. I'm told that I'm not like a lot of men. Don't know if that's true and really I don't know that it makes much difference. I'm just me, whatever that is. I do know that my experience isn't common and that's shaped me, so possibly my perspective is different, skewed, interesting, ridiculous or worth your time. I guess one of us will find out before long.

What the hell was I writing about?

Women! Right.

In the previous post I described myself as a grudging romantic. That's only today. Previously I'd have called myself wildly romantic. Some might have used the hopeless or eternal labels. Lately I realize that no matter how cynical, sarcastic, angry, vexed or anything else I become, that frigging romantic streak will not die. It's a cockroach of a character trait. No metaphoric or metaphysical microwave or decapitation will do it in. I've tried.

But where I lived my earlier life for women and for the wooing of them, I am changed and so are my views. I still love women but after about a half century on this spinning marble I have seen and endured a lot. I know that a lot of what I was taught about women -- and chose to believe -- was more than wrong: a lot of it was lies. Maybe it's what we as men would like to believe of women, but...

We're taught women are weak. Women are strong. We're taught women are emotional. Women can be emotional, but women can also cut off their emotions in a heartbeat to deal with something completely dispassionately if they feel they need to. We're taught women are sweet and I believe there is powerful sweetness to most women, but women can be mean, ornery, malicious and straight evil.

None of this is to say men aren't the same or worse. I repeat at this point I know little of men. I know me some and if I'm not like most men then I'm hardly going to write about men.

At the same time, I'm not generalizing about women. I'm writing about the women in my experience. More specifically the women in my romantic experience.

It's possible to know a woman for years or even decades and not really know her at all. I became involved with two of my deepest friends after long periods, 15 or 16 years in one case and 30 in the other. What I knew about them for all those years before we got together sexually and romantically was a lot, I thought, but women are wildly more multifaceted than men, I think. Or in my experience.

I remember one of the most powerful exchanges I ever had with a woman. As a musician and writer I'm always trying to get at some truth. I think I've always been this way. But I can't forget when I finally managed to meet and get to know a woman I'd been intrigued by for some time. We connected well and shared some incredible conversations. When I told her about my philosophy and approach to things her response was,

"I believe everyone is lying all the time."

Stopped me in my tracks. Stunned me. I was angry, chagrined and indignant.

Then I realized, as I sometimes remember to do, that we're different people with different lives and different histories. I knew nothing about her at that point, including how she grew up or anything else. But I did know she was an actor and as part of her craft that belief was central. To get at the heart of a character it was essential to grasp that the surface and the core may be wildly different things.

But this was the beginning of a journey. Last year I was talking with one of my favorite people. I was in a lousy mood and she was bubbly. She commented on my snarkiness and I pointed out that I was sick of the ways women choose to talk to me, how they treat me. She smiled and her eyes were laughing.

"Lying to you, huh?"

"Yes!" I blurted.

"Women lie all the time. Sometimes we don't even realize we're doing it."

Again, stopped me cold. Stymied me.

But I'm a man. I don't have to put up with any of what a woman has to deal with constantly. Not in any real way. Whatever condescension or objectification I'm dealt are a fraction of what any woman has to deal with most of her waking hours. Rape is not the same thing in my mind or in my life. I haven't had to learn from the first how to deal with slimy looks, attitudes, characters or behaviors in at least 50% of the people around me at any time. Threat is not a looming presence in my world. Not really. And it's not convoluted with media images telling me constantly what I'm supposed to be, with everything tied up in my looks and my sexuality. Bitch, slut and whore are rarely things I'm going to be called, to my face or behind my back. They won't be screamed by strangers or casually uttered by my friends.

For all that, for all the confusion of being a man and dealing with women, I'm told I should not carry baggage into every exchange. I need to treat every woman as an individual.

That's fair. Difficult. Challenging. But fair.

At the same time I know I'm constantly being compared to everyone from a woman's father to her ex to the one that got away. And after knowing women some, these comparisons are done in a VERY different way than how the men I know do it.

None of it's fair. All of it's human.

Hmm...

This is getting a lot longer than I'd intended and it's not really going much of anywhere, is it?

I'll need to go into my diatribe on the conditional tense at some point.

I don't know. At the end of the day what I get back to is that I don't know.

We're all of us limited creatures. We change and grow, if we're lucky, but we can only see and know so much. Sometimes when we think we're being open we really aren't. We're blind to so much in ourselves. And as my friend pointed out, we may not even know we're lying.

Yes, I just expanded that to include men.

But honestly I don't think it's a hopeless thing. Not an easy thing, but not hopeless. We're drawn to each other and if it's gonna be more than making babies, we owe it to ourselves and each other to try and be more, to be better. And I think we can be. If my own life has taught me anything it's that we impose more limitations on ourselves than anyone puts on us. We rankle when we're told what we can't do and we rail against it. But we seem just fine with the things we tell ourselves we can't do. How bizarre is that??

I guess I should wind up for now. Tune in again for more of this idiotic ranking and dribble that passes for brain fodder!

And if you made it this far, thanks for taking the time. Really.