Maybe I was one of the smartest kids around, back in the day: at a fairly young age, I vowed never to marry, because I realized there was no way to be sure that my husband and I would change in congruent ways as we aged—thus, I concluded, making promises that were binding “until death do us part” was not a wise move.
Then I must have turned into one of the dumbest teenagers around, because with my first experience of something approaching adult love, I repudiated my childhood vow, and worse: I ignored signs of deep-seated differences, and made those “until death” promises.
Don’t know which end of the intelligence spectrum I’m closer to these days, but I learned a lot from that relationship, and I have been much more observant and careful in subsequent voluntary relationships.
Back to that marriage for a couple more minutes, though, for some important context: while we were still dating, he made a future-oriented promise to me that centered on a very important personal goal I had. It was an extremely generous promise, and one I never would have asked for—in large part because it was complex and nearly impossible to guarantee. I didn’t hold him to the literal promise; but I did expect he would at least try to honor it.
He didn’t.
My disappointment at his unwillingness to even try to honor the promise was deep. The revelation that he had no intention of trying came just after I’d read The Fountainhead, which was my first explicit exposure to individualism and the freedom philosophy. Because of that book, for the first time in my marriage, I contemplated which was more important to me—the relationship or the goal. I chose the marriage at that time, but for the remainder of its duration, I was very mindful of performing that calculus. And I continued to do so at intervals, particularly after important events. Ultimately the result of the calculus shifted: I understood that if I were to keep my wedding vows, certain things, vitally important to me, would have to die. And I wasn’t willing to perform those murders.
Some might blame my shift to an explicit evaluation of the pros and cons of staying in the marriage for ultimately bringing about its end; but I think to do so is akin to shooting a messenger bearing bad news. The negative signals were there prior to my shift; I’d simply chosen to be blind to them, as much as I could be. Once my eyes had been opened, I found myself deliberating over many more choices—in many cases, choices I hadn’t previously acknowledged were open to me. Rather than feeling overwhelmed by this new-to-me superabundance of choices, I felt liberated. I didn’t “have to” do certain things, or refrain from other things; I was choosing to do them, or not, and with the awareness of choice came a lot of thinking about the elements that had gone into making my choices. It will probably come as no surprise that as I changed my choices to come more into line with what I wanted to do—rather than what was expected of me or what had become habit—I was told I was being selfish. Having read more Rand by this point, my typical response was something like a warm, “Thank you!”, which invariably befuddled my accusers. While not agreeing completely with her published ideas on human psychology (or human nature, if you prefer), I continue to find much value in her defining selfishness as “rational self-interest”.
Grokking that doesn’t mean that making certain choices becomes easier, though. For me, trying to maintain some balance between individual goals and valued relationships is especially difficult. Despite having written an essay [Wow, nearly three years ago!] on personal power and relationships, I can’t claim any sort of expertise on the subject, either in theory or practice. Putting my personal interests aside while the snolfs were infants and required a good deal of my energy was very difficult for me, despite knowing it was necessary, and despite wanting to be a good parent. And I still engage that “relationship calculus” from time to time. MAL and I, like any two individuals, aren’t in complete agreement on every issue and goal; and I’d much rather face potential serious issues before they become make-or-break items.
As I wrote in that essay, being in any kind of relationship necessarily means giving another person some degree of power over one—less so in casual friendships, and much more in intimate, loving relationships. It seems to me that knowing that helps a person evaluate the types and scope of power given to another; and that in turn helps ensure that power—that trust—isn’t misplaced. It may appear to others to be selfish to be so cognizant of relationship dynamics; but given the stakes—especially in intimate and parenting relationships—it seems astonishing that a person would not want that kind of awareness. Down such blind paths lie myriad dangers. Love can be painful enough without inviting the Marquis de Sade in to romp.
All this might seem very far afield from the question I asked in the title of this ramble: can a relationship and freedom happily coexist? I see that question as one of the more challenging onions to peel. On the surface, a quick “Yes!” response scores a direct hit; but it shows nothing of the effort required to craft such a relationship—to say nothing of trying to maintain it over the years. One always has the choice of being mindful or not of the work, honesty, and integrity that are essential to building and maintaining healthy, vibrant, freedom-enhancing relationships (along with many other choices). To my mind, honest selfishness, and monitoring a relationship’s value, are essential to keeping individuals, and their relationships, on a path that enables eudaimonia. It is no guarantee, however—because there are no guarantees in such endeavors. Individuals change, goals change, relationships change ... sometimes in ways that don’t make it possible for positive interactions to continue. For me, it’s preferable to identify that state, if it comes, sooner rather than later.
wow
are you certain that you don't have a direct line into my psyche? now 250 pages into atlas shrugged - where Dagny and Hank just rode into Colorado over the Rearden metal bridge. balancing chaos and order comes into every sphere of existence and the positive selfishism can easily be taken by the free riders as an invitation to hitch on board. but to not empower the system and to bow out gracefully depends on there being a Galt's Gulch somewhere.
i also have noticed that our bloggosphere seems to be commenting on the same things from different perspectives, showing an increased symmetry in the thoughts of us individualists. Vache Folle and i each cued off Jomama before we surfed to find other opinion. There are certain folks who's blogs i read every so often and enjoy - but don't wish to understand in that much depth to place the time into it to really know what is going on. But do we know what is going on, ever? In a given situation? i sometimes reflect back on the decisions that i made or didn't make based on the dynamics of relationships and the things that are important at the time. Hindsight really is not 20/20, because the facts change after that were rationed out for the action. It's why perspective at different scales is very necessary.
pinning down a schedule while attempting to deal with the chaos of a relationship and the chaos of good work at the cutting edge of your thought means a whole lot of freedom is required, to be where the need for you be. Reading those personal relationships and developing the trust over time is so crucial to the support network of effectiveness - but personal comfort and chaos are hard coexisters - especially at the comfort level of the duo in the personal relationship. and each snolf adds a different relationship alltogether. complex energy levels of activity require a shiftable energy state - one where the mirror at level a is unrelated to the complex issue on sublevel f that has your attention.
the muddle in the middle - the miasma of lemmings - is a cacophany of competing self-interests, with the assurance that only the capitalist system can provide. self-actuation is a commitment to remain there activated - because it took too much time and effort to get to that stage of understanding to not get to do more. But sustaining higher energy levels requires the support systems working. sometimes i wish i had never discovered maslow's hierarchy of needs because they are so personally limiting. but that's the penalty of knowledge of the current working paradigm - the inability to see past it.
but to step outside is to not be defending your interest inside. and when those you trust let it go - well isn't that the Plame case in a nutshell. i'll be interested in what they present in the movie - i love the fictions that hollywood creates that become fact in the mind of the sheeple. anything possible can happen, and does - but we create our own reality with our perception. I struggle, wondering whether the tap on the shoulder is friend or foe - because nobody is on anybody's side but their own, it's no way to run an empire. how grounded does a fact have to be to be a fact?
so to answer - at time i have been happy, at times i have been productive, at times i have been channel focused. the relationship is on the ground level and when it doesn't work right, it creates the chaos necessary to get you the energy you need to get further away from your center to the cutting edge of your work - but at the cost of that relationship, especially if you cannot fulfill the role expected. The original activation energy based on intent, meanspirit or innocuous, doesn't matter; you cannot sustain chaotic energy levels over significant time spans without eventually returning back to ground; hopefully graduated on a median grade slope rather than all at once or not at all.
to thine own self be true. or ashes to ashes, dust to dust.