I have just begun yet another journey: the journey of
dating. This one MOST likely won’t result in weird eye, nose, or throat
infections or some sort of gastrointestinal cholera-like “issue” or sleeping
with cockroaches… or maybe it might! Though it may appear self-indulgent, I
want to share this quest for a partner, fundamentally a quest for
connectedness, with the blogosphere for three reasons: 1) it is better than
talking it out with a UBC psychology graduate student (all I would be able to
afford) or bothering my most precious friend resources too much; 2) Because
when I am experiencing fear, vulnerability and insecurity, I find solace in
hearing other people’s experiences and to find that we are all going through
the same shit; and 3) fun to practice non-academic writing (okay so it is
MOSTLY self-indulgent but I’d argue that cat pictures are more self-indulgent).
What is this drive for connectedness that drives us into the
arms of another, or multiple others? I have caught glimpses of this
connectedness, feeling true freedom, while in moments of meditation or while in
the throes of debilitating “love”. I recall a moment of freedom from a little
over a year ago, meditating outside at my parents little northern Alberta acreage.
I experienced a fleeting second of knowing that I am made up of the same “stuff”
as the rest of the universe, the rest of the earth, the other animals (my earth
brothers and sisters, as I refer to them while at the same time being
shit-my-pants scared of wild animals), the trees that were around me, the wind,
etc. I remember thinking, “if I am all of this and this is all of me, how can I
ever actually feel like I am alone???”. We are soooo not separate from the
universe but rather embedded in an infinite network of energy and intertwining
cosmic fascia. Like I said, it was a fleeting moment of feeling fully connected.
At the time, I was voluntarily not employed and being cared for and looked
after by my mummy and daddy in the forest in northern Alberta where peace and
quiet (and Mormons) abounded. To say that maintaining this sense of connectedness
was challenging upon re-engagement in society a couple months later is both a
euphemism AND a paradox.
For those of you who know me well (and perhaps those of you
who do not because, evidently, I am “cool” with telling anybody anything), one
of my intentions for the last year and a half has been freedom. Freedom from
thinking that my life “should” be different, that I “should” be different, that
I “should” be “further along” on the life road map laid out by our culture
(think Hasbro’s board game, Game of Life where we were either pink or blue
little stick men driving what appeared to be Sebring convertibles). These “shoulds”,
according to Buddhist philosophy, are the source of all desire and therefore
the source of all suffering. By coming into mindful presence and a peaceful
acceptance of the universe unfolding imperfectly perfect we can detach from the
concocted story of how things “should” be; each of our lives is exactly how it
is, perfect in its imperfectness. No “shoulds”. However these “shoulds” are the product of our culture's value system and are
imprinted and profoundly embedded profoundly in our psyches. They are no joke.
In particular, over the last year and a half, I have been
seeking freedom from the paralysing belief that when I find a partner, THEN I
can do all the things I want to do. I experienced a traumatically disappointing
breakup in the spring of 2012, the kind that causes you to actually leave your
body as a self-preservation mechanism with the resulting emptiness being first
filled with fear, doubt and bitterness before light and wisdom re-emerge to displace these poisons. One of many pieces of innate wisdom that emerged was
that this belief in a partner being a
priori to me achieving my goals was a belief I had held for my entire life.
This belief manifested in my behaviour as I sat and waited for someone to
choose me all the while acting incredibly desperate as I just wanted to get my life
“started”. This insight has indeed made the last year and a half the most
positive, productive, exciting, and confidence-building chapter of my life thus
far.
An event occurred last week triggered my old friends,
insecurity and vulnerability and perhaps desperation. I moved to Vancouver a
few months ago to begin a phd program. I rent a nice comfortable one-bedroom
apartment, I cook nice meals for myself, have some savings for a holiday next
year, some savings for retirement, do some yoga, swim lanes at the community
centre, sit in nice coffee shops and work, plan my garden for next year, etc.
You know, a nice single 31 year old existence as budgeted for in accordance
with the increasing income that comes with more and more training. I have yet
to be awarded a grant for my studies so I work full-time in 3 separate
wonderfully invigorating and challenging academicky part-time jobs. In a
meeting with my supervisor last week she first asked if “isn’t just working 2
of the 3 jobs enough of an income for you (2000$/ month)?”. I responded
confidently with resounding “no”. She
then tells me that “theoretically you shouldn’t be working so much”. I respond
by telling her “I don’t know how to respond to that comment. It is what it is”.
This event may seem like “so what’s the
big deal, Adrienne???”. It shook me. It did not sit well with me for two reasons.
First, it forced me to remember how vulnerable and insecure my position here actually
is right now and then of course I proceeded to dwell on the accompanying worry.
Of course, as I often do in times of worry, I totally neglected to remember how
insecure and vulnerable my position has been for the last 7 years and how it
has ALWAYS worked out. I began to panic, to feel homesick for the security of
Alberta and my friends and my family, and even my university there; homesick
for connectedness and grounding. Secondly, as I asked around to other graduate
students I work with about their experiences with working and supervisor
expectations, the majority of them had not had to worry about earning less
income while in school. This majority had partners. These women have or had
partners in their life during graduate school. These women had a double income
household to buffer the insecurity. They then almost all solidified their
security by having a baby while writing their dissertations. Babies equal
relationship cement (debateable?). I am simply trying to make a
life for myself that does not assume I will ever have a double income. I am
very honest about this, but one of the reasons I am doing a phd is not only because I have tended to be good at
academia and I find it incredibly
stimulating as a potential career, but also because it could one day allow me to
earn an income as a single woman that might facilitate me in buying a piece of
land in rural Alberta where I can grow a food forest.
All of this has triggered this strange desire to find a partner,
as if that will make me feel more secure financially. Ha. Crazy right? Nope. While
I am no victim-blamer, I am fairly certain I, along with a number of beautiful,
intelligent, still- single friends of mine, am wrestling against a long history
and deep-seated ethos of women as the helpless dependent. This historical ethos
is perhaps not so historical and, I would argue, still influences the mechanics
and structures of our present institutions. This event that has retriggered my
fear, doubts, insecurities, and vulnerabilities is the first time in my life
that I have ever felt like I may not be able to succeed at what I am doing not because
I am a woman, but because I am a single-woman.
Next stop, travelling to the beginning of my online
dating/prowling in Vancouver: The crap, the crappier, and the crappiest.
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