Navigating the Friend Ship: Part Two

Acceptance. Genuineness. Raw, open honesty. Unconditional positive regard. High standards, but low expectations. These are the qualities that have come aboard the friend ship lately. They are qualities that were not necessarily there before, or if they were, they were lacking or hiding behind some insecurity or misunderstanding.

But now they seem to surround every conversation Random and I have. It adds a different feel to the communication, this new acceptance and vulnerability. We hypothesize that it is what allows for platonic love* to grow. [*"platonic" here meaning strong, non-romantic, brotherly love]

This poses a very important question: How do you let go of romantic love while at the same time increasing platonic love? Is it even possible? I would like to think so, but am still uncertain. I think the transition from romantic love to platonic love requires a more extensive and intricate use of the heart muscles, a workout I haven't done before. (Can I get a personal trainer for that?)

At any other time in my life, or with any other person, I'd probably have just walked away from this entire thing, letting my wounds close up over the parts of my heart that needed further exploring. Instead I stay, one dialogue at a time, in hopes that maybe my heart will learn a lesson it couldn't learn otherwise. Every dialogue is a mix of nostalgia, discovery, pain, beauty and growth. It's exquisite in its uniqueness; We're walking through mostly uncharted territory, with no guide but God Himself (I wish He'd leave us a map or something... just sayin'). It's not particularly easy.

Perhaps this is why so many people run ashore when trying to ride the friend ship. It's HARD. And not like have-an-awkward-conversation hard, but let-me-tear-out-my-old-heart-and-grow-a-new-one hard.

I'm not sure in what ways it's hard for Random, but for me, the letting go is the hardest. Letting go of our past, and accepting this new way of relating. While Random loves me in this platonic way, a way that still fulfills me and brings me peace, it is intrinsically different than it was before. I'm still adjusting to it. It's not a bad, just different, and it doesn't allow for old feelings or emotional baggage (that has to get checked and processed often.. but that's a whole other blog). So I have to practice letting go. I have to accept the direction our friend ship has taken, which is freer, fruitful and to be honest, kind of fascinating.

Moral of this blog? The friend ship is still a bit scary, still uncertain, still difficult, but so far, still worth it.

We'll see what happens next...

"The art of love is largely the art of persistence." - Albert Ellis

Navigating the Friend Ship: Part One

In keeping with the nautical theme of my last blog post, I find it only fitting that this one be named such. Navigating the post-break-up-let's-be-friends ship can be a bumpy ride. Luckily, with Random's penchant for all things viking, and my weird love for all things pirate (I mean, they say 'arrr' and have parrots - love it), I feel like we're up for the challenge of riding this possibly stormy sea of unknown friendship-ness.

When we first started the whole "let's be friends" thing, I was definitely not completely on board (ha! I promise, I'll stop with the word play...eventually). I had plenty of doubts and fears that friendship could lead to more heartache and confusion. And there's still a risk of that, I suppose. But I was willing to take the risk, mostly because I felt like God was calling me to. And I'm glad I did, because with each dialogue I have with Random I learn something valuable.

This week I learned, or felt, something remarkable:

For the first time since I've known Random, I feel more free than ever. I feel free to really be myself. I'm not scared of saying or doing the wrong thing. I'm not worried about impressing him. I'm not worrying about whether he's going to call or not or when I'll see him again. I am free of these worries and fears. And without them, I feel lighter and more myself. Now when I'm around Random, I am just me. Simply, genuinely me. What joy and peace there is in that.

My hope is that this new freedom, this openness, will lead to building a stronger friendship (more on friendship building in the next post!). And while it saddens me to think that it took us breaking up before we could be more open and real with each other, I am so thankful for the gift of these experiences (read: social experiments) with him now.

Alas, since neither Random or I are captaining this ship, there is still some fear about where we're headed (on my part anyway), but if we really trust in God's navigational skills, I'm sure we'll end up better off in the end, no matter where He takes us.

Walking the plank.

I was listening to Gotye's song "Eyes Wide Open" and one of the lyrics really struck me:

"We walk the plank with our eyes wide open."

At first I was delighted at any lyric that inspired pirate imagery, but when I let the words sink (ha!) in further, I realized why they struck me so deeply. I feel that "we walk the plank with our eyes wide open" when we embrace God's truth and true love. We know that defending the truth is a dangerous task, one that may lead to scorn, ridicule or hate. And with true love, we go after it, knowing that within its beauty, there is still plenty of pain, confusion and loss to be found.

But in life we are all called to pursue these things - truth and love - even though they may not be popular or easy. If we are brave enough, or as scripture mentioned yesterday, weak enough (since through our weakness Christ's strength is shown), we will work towards holiness by aligning our lives with Christ's mission to spread His truth, and to love each other completely, "without complexities or pride" (Pablo Neruda's words here).

We were made to walk the plank for Truth, for Love, for God, fully aware that had we hidden from our true calling to be radical in this life, we would not have to suffer the pain of free falling into a vast ocean of unknown. Because we could stay on the boat, laughing and carrying on with all the other scurvy pirates, living a life that is easy and uncomplicated. But it would be a life that is empty. Pointless. How boring is that?

So while pirates are awesome in theory, I think I'd much rather take the radical step off the plank and plunge in the icy water, knowing that I can only fall as far as the cross.

"A ship in the harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for." - William Shedd

To boldly (and prayerfully) go where no one has gone before.

This is what happens when you break up with someone after seriously dating for 8 months:

1. You go through the always awkward/painful ritual of giving back each others things (trade back his Jesuit book for your Oliver Sacks book).

2. You make the unsettling (and somehow more official) move to remove your relationship status on Facebook.

3. You perform the really discombobulating "last goodbye" as he walks you to your car and you realize as you drive away, you won't be back.

4. Finally, you have the moment when you wake up the day after and realize that no, it wasn't a nightmare, you really did just break up with your heart and somehow the world is still turning.

What follows next is assumed from the standard protocol I've witnessed since watching and experiencing adult dating: once those rituals are complete, you typically don't encounter "the ex" ever again. At least not on purpose.

And that's it. You break up, navigate the socially awkward goodbye scene, and you're done.

That is standard protocol, unless of course you are Random.

Random never has, nor will he probably ever, follow standard protocol, something I appreciate and admire in him.

But because of this difference in Random, I find myself navigating a place I've never been before: The Land of Staying Friends After a Break Up.

When I say "staying friends", I don't just mean acting polite but distant when you happen to bump into them at Whole Foods while buying groceries. When I say "staying friends", at least where Random is concerned, I mean building and maintaining a real, honest friendship that involves talking and platonic hang outs.

Dangerous territory? Quite possibly. Uncommon? Sure. Potentially confusing? You betcha.

Alas, Random and I were nothing if not adventurous (okay, he is adventurous, and I'm just impulsive and prideful enough to accept a challenge), and it seems even after the end of "us", we're not much different. And so we're accepting the challenge of being friends despite the emotional baggage, allowing for the baggage to be present, but choosing to work around it for the possible fruit good friendship can often bear.

So where does that leave us? Charting unexplored territory very slowly, very prayerfully and with the hope that God will lead us where He will.

I'm not sure where this will take us, but if our previous dialogues are anything to go by, I'm just thankful for the spiritual fruit, emotional healing and clarity I've gained so far.

No matter what happens, we are in God's hands, and at the end of another day in unfamiliar territory, that's where I place my trust. In His hands, we're never without guidance.

Only the lonely.

[Originally written 5/14/12] It’s the loneliness that gets me. In the beginning, I woke up with it and went to sleep with it every night. It was there as soon as I stopped focusing on work or too many social events or money issues. It was confusing at first, because well, I guess it never left completely, even when Random was around. You see, loneliness followed him, too; though sometimes when we were really in love, it took a break from pestering us. We could breathe, really breathe, in those moments.

But now that the biggest tidal wave of the grief has passed, the slower waves are breaking. Sometimes I’ll go whole days without loneliness, if I work really hard at it. Then some days, I’ll dream of how things used to be, and it's right back to haunt me. Or when I'm alone and no one really knows where I am, and if I were to be eaten alive by feral cats in my parking lot, no one would know for a couple days... the lonely gets loud then, too.

The absurdity of that last scenario distracts from the underlying truth:

I can’t stand the lonely.

It’s suffocating. It makes me tense up and want to run. Where I would go, I have no clue. I guess that’s why I love reading so much: I can escape, however briefly, the lonely that lurks around.

We were not made to be alone. When I’m alone all I can see are the people around me who are not alone. (Jealousy is very close to loneliness. Second cousins maybe. I hate it, too.)

Perhaps the loneliness I feel, that we're all prone to feel at times, is the result of forgetting what's inside us. God's presence is with us always, even in the darkest of moments. If we truly believe and trust that God dwells within us, who are we to fear such a small thing as loneliness?

It's only loneliness. It's only pain. It's only suffering. It's really an opportunity to cling to God with all our might and remember that in the end, He is all that matters.

"Yet it is in this loneliness that the deepest activities begin. It is here that you discover act without motion, labor that is profound repose, vision in obscurity, and, beyond all desire, a fulfillment whose limits extend to infinity."

- Thomas Merton

Love and pain.

Peace. Happiness. Fulfillment. Love. These are all the things we yearn for, strive for. These are the things that we push for whether we realize it or not. Freud may have been wrong about many things but he was right about this: all humans seek pleasure and avoid pain. It's natural, right? Who wants to be unhappy, broken or lost?

Unfortunately for us, life isn't always sunshine and roses. Sometimes (or a lot of times) life is full of the very things we hate: pain, heartache, loss, and uncertainty. We can question why - why must I hurt? Why must my life be filled with misery? Why me? But really, shouldn't we be asking ourselves why not me?

The truth is, pain in life is inevitable and unavoidable. Sure you could curl up in a hole somewhere and hope that nothing terrible befalls you. You could sit waiting for the bad things to pass, and tell yourself, "Well, when things get better I'll finally start living." But if we waited until circumstances were perfect to go out and embrace the daily gift of life, we miss the whole point. Life isn't about being happy or free from pain. Life is about loving. Life is about giving. We learn to love despite the pain; we learn to give despite the fear. Besides, in pain there is always the joy that comes with uniting our suffering with Christ's. There is no pain we have that He hasn't also endured. And He endures it willingly and lovingly. Aren't we called to do the same for Him?

Pain and heartache will come and go, that much is certain. But the joy and peace of Christ is ever-present, if we only choose to hope in Him.

Where hope would otherwise become hopelessness, it becomes faith. ~Robert Brault

Pro's and a con of dating Catholic guys.

There are many pro's to dating a hardcore Catholic man. Going to mass together, going to adoration together, saying a rosary together, having late-night discussions about theology and Church teachings... all beautiful and blessed things to do with your significant other. While I dated Random (obvious name change here), he surrounded me with faith, buying me my first crucifix, teaching to me out of the catechism, and even doing a stations of the cross with me in the candle-lit chapel at St. Louis, with no one else around. This man knew his faith and was proud to profess it. He was everything a Catholic girl like me could ever hope for.

But there is one downside to dating a Catholic man, and that downside comes in the form of discernment. True Catholic men know how to discern and they discern well; Random was no exception. He was so good at discernment, in fact, that he broke up with me, something I didn't really appreciate at the time. I ranted and argued with him about it, actually. This mostly-hardcore Catholic girl suddenly wished with everything she had that Random was not as hardcore Catholic as he was. Because you see, he ended it something like this, "I love you, but don't feel called to marry you." Um, ouch? Excuse me while I scoop my heart off the floor and try to figure out how to regain the use of my vocal chords... Seriously, how on earth does anyone argue with that? What could I say, "Oh, well God is wrong on this one" or "You need to wash out your ears and listen again"? I could do nothing but watch in awe as this man walked away from love because he felt God was calling him to. That takes faith that I still don't understand.

While grieving the loss of Random is painful and confusing and not exactly how I want to spend my free time, at least I know that his decision was somehow rooted in God. And okay, I admit that being good at discernment isn't a downside at all. It's a blessing that I'm sure I'll come to appreciate once I grow a new heart and get through this incredibly awesome (not) post-breakup season.

Moral of this blog? Dating good Catholic men is the way to go, even if it doesn't turn out the way you want in the end.

"Love is so short, forgetting is so long." - Pablo Neruda