Behavior, Dating, Opinion, Personal, Psychology, Relationships, Romance, Sex, Sexuality

The Fidelity Observation

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Preface: A while back, I warned y’all that I’d write more things outside my comfort zone. The analytics are clear, though: posts about relationships, behavior, or anything adjacent to these topics are read by many people. I’d suppose it is because relationships are the central element of our lives. Most of us experience the same issues.

I’ve made no secret of the fact that I’ve been on both sides of the coin.

I’m not ever going to be on the other side again.

I’ve been to therapy to discuss all these issues in detail. I’ve read every major relationship and sexual study out there. I’ve spent a lot of time digesting the conclusions. They all convince me that the blueprint I followed for most of my adult life is the only way I can be happy. To remind myself, I ask myself where not doing things the right way led me. Obviously, I was off course! Had I not been, I’d be happily married to someone who follows the same relationship blueprint I’m looking for. I can’t blame other people, not really. Not taking time for deep consideration would result in further disappointment for me.

And because it’s the only way to happiness for me, I’m assuming it will be more than enough for most people.

There is a difference between adultery and infidelity. Don’t fool yourself. Infidelity can be equally damaging. It violates trust, a promise, and commitment to your partner. It involves breaking any romantic, emotional, or intellectual agreements that you share. It does not require these agreements to be spoken. It’s true that boundaries and expectations between people might vary. But if you think rationally, you’ll discover that most of us have the same expectations. We certainly overlap regarding things that we know would hurt us.

Infidelity: any action or behavior that either makes the partner doing it feel guilty – or any action or behavior that is kept hidden or secret because the partner is aware that it will cause emotional hurt. This is true because it is infidelity to the relationship the moment either half of the first sentence becomes reality.

Don’t overthink it. It’s simplicity in its rarest form.

“Fidelity” is an old word, coming from a mix of “loyalty, faithfulness, trustworthy.” Generally speaking, if you can’t write it, say it, or do it openly and in front of your partner without a reaction, it probably falls on the wrong side of the line. You might argue and fight my interpretation. Obviously, though, behavior and words that are intentionally kept from your partner must have some impetus toward concealment. Motives may vary. The consequences don’t.

Behavior that is benign rarely gets cloaked. (There are exceptions.) If you don’t trust your partner to react rationally, that signals a bigger problem between you. The act of concealment, misdirection, or minimizing deservedly draws scrutiny. It’s not rational to keep things from your partner based on how they might react. Their reaction, if they are your ideal partner, won’t be out of proportion or indicate anything other than their confusion or hurt. You have to put in the work when misunderstandings arise.

Healthy relationships with an ideal partner require transparency.

Transparency is a child of honesty.

Stop defining infidelity as a specific act. If it triggers you to conceal or if it will hurt your partner to see it, hear it, or hear of it, it’s infidelity. Yes, I know my comments are a bit general.

Examples: flirty behavior, however you define it. Giving someone the impression they hold your interest. Secret conversations in any form. Sexual innuendo, as it leads to the false (or correct) interpretation that you are available. Sharing your time and emotional energy with someone. We all have a set amount of time, focus, and energy. If it’s spent with someone else, it’s done to the detriment of the relationship. Etc. Again, these are general comments, not an exclusive or inclusive list or blueprint. I didn’t include any physical examples because I’ve distinguished between adultery and infidelity.

Infidelity is a huge slippery slope of defense mechanisms, explanations, and rationalizations. A kiss, though physical, is infidelity.

The behaviors that get hidden or concealed are the stepping stones to a breach in your emotional intimacy.

The modern era makes it harder to honor your relationship.

Just reverse roles when you’re engaging in actions or behaviors that trigger recognition in yourself. How would you feel if your partner did it? That’s how you know you need to do things differently.

Compassion on a fundamental level.

We all want to be loved and appreciated. To achieve that, we have to learn and follow behaviors that contradict what led us to where we are.

X

Art, Lemon Moment, Personal

Prisms Wash

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When the Sun is at the right angle, my apartment is washed inside and out by hundreds of simultaneous prism rainbows. I leave the blinds open for the ficus tree. Sometimes Guino and I sit here in relative silence and let the colors fill the room. We both watch the beauty as it travels omnidirectionally.

Güino is with me on my lap as I did the short video of me near the window.

X

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Animals, Behavior, Opinion, Personal, Safety

Anger, Flying Windows, And A Cat

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Entering the convenience store, I noted several people waiting or milling around. A couple of them seemed uncomfortable. Within a second, I realized why. A woman was standing near the counter, berating the workers for some kind of misunderstanding or error regarding the gas pumps. No matter the content of her argument, all I witnessed was someone forgetting the stupidity of such behavior. Her anger possessed her. I could see it contaminating everyone witnessing it. The woman in question stomped out, hollering, “Never mind! I give up.” When I exited, I could see her angrily talking to another person at the pumps in a different vehicle. “Spread that anger infection some more, yes, please,” I said to myself in my head. I hope I remember the experience the next time I feel anger flare uncontrollably inside me. Anger seldom looks attractive on anyone.

On the short leg of my drive home, I followed behind a Jeep. It happened quickly, so I had no reaction time. The plastic cover inserted into the missing back window frame blew out. I watched in slo-mo as it flipped over a couple of times and went under my car. It seemed inevitable that it would have flipped up and hit my windshield directly. I followed the Jeep, honking my absurd horn. It slowed as if to turn left. I honked again, and the Jeep instead continued straight. As it neared the light ahead, it turned red. When the Jeep stopped, I hopped out and ran to the driver’s side. “You lost your back window back there. It didn’t damage my car, but it’s still on the road. You’re going to be a bit cold without it. Have a great day!” I gave him a thumbs-up and ran back to my car.

Because no one knows how to easily turn into my driveway, the Jeep contained ahead, and I turned in. After parking, I watched the road for a minute. The Jeep went back by in the opposite direction. The driver undoubtedly decided that the cold warranted a return trip for the plastic window insert. It made me happy to think I took a chance to let him know. I’d recommend some screws or duct tape if he’s going to put it back on.

As for Gûino, he will be 15 early next year. He’s a spry, healthy cat for his age. If he is so inclined, he can scrunch down and jump seven feet straight up. There’s no doubt about it that he shouldn’t go outside. When I moved here, and he came back to live with me, his paws didn’t go far from the door and certainly not downstairs. He’s grown familiar with the building, the pitbull who loves cats (really) on the end, and some of the residents. I stopped letting him out in the dark after a particularly scary moment a few weeks ago. But one of his joys is to scamper out the door and sniff, discover, and explore. It could easily result in a surprise or tragedy for him. There’s no denying it. But at his age, given the unlikely scenario that he’ll survive as long as I’d like him to, I stopped struggling with the overwhelming worry he would get lost, kidnapped, or fatally hurt out there. I try to monitor him. Sometimes he fools me. I have three Blink cameras to surveil him. If the worst happens to him, I will be devastated. I’ll feel immensely guilty. I temper that possible outcome against his age. To be inside all the time when I know he’s grown to love scampering outside, sometimes forcing me to chase him on the upper landing, up and down stairs, and across the parking lot. It’s a game to him.

Erika sent me a video from her Blink from yesterday. Gûino had already enjoyed his prison yard time but decided to dart out the door without written permission from me. So, to startle him into remembering he can’t do that, I chased him all the way down the building and stairs, all the way back inside my apartment. And yes, I know I was running a little bit fruity in the video accompanying this post.

I want him to have a longer life. But I’d rather him have a fuller life, even if that brings risk.

As someone who narrowly avoided precarious death a few times, it’s hard to convince me that risk is entirely real.

Love, X
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Behavior, Personal, Psychology, Social Rules

Power Outage Thought

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Last night, a neighbor texted me to ask about the power situation. Which was thoughtful.

I was at Erika’s, watching colorful lights flash after the power went out. And listening to a literal version of the sound of silence. It’s damn near impossible to sleep deeply when the sounds and environment aren’t what your accustomed to. Cats get the zoomies in those situations. They enjoy doing their interpretive dances, often including every human being who’s futilely attempting to sleep.

I don’t sleep with my phone in the room. It’s a habit I followed before, but sleep therapy taught me that it’s about the only way to be disengaged enough, even on a subconscious level. Had my neighbor texted me to tell me that my apartment was ablaze, I guess I would have awakened and made roasted marshmallows over the embers. Because that’s all you can do really. Make the most of what you’ve got.

Also, my apartment was filled with the smell of someone enjoying a natural herb in excess. Because the air wasn’t on due to the power outage, I suppose it must have collected, like cigarette smoke once did in bingo halls. I think I have a contact high. I swept all the stairs and threw down salt. As a deicer, not for any potential margaritas that might be made in my neighborhood today, though the latter is probably more likely.

I did my morning routine in a blur and came to work.

Though there is no direct correlation to my post, I’d like to remind everyone that planning almost anything is impossible. Whether it is a power outage, a surprise November snow, or putting off anything until the next day. Those hours ahead, the ones you’ve set aside mentally to do something important, they might not come. Or life might jump up and say, “Hey hold on a minute there!”

Have a lovely Tuesday.

Just keep in mind that procrastination or delay might rob you of an opportunity to do what adds value to your life. Whatever that might be.

Love, X
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I took this picture through a prism hanging on my landing.
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Lemon Moment, Personal

Meteorite Motivate

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The advantage of pre-morningtide vivication is that I was able to see some of the meteorites around 2:45. Later, after I got to work, I observed a few more streaking in the interstices of the light cloud cover. It was beguiling, beautiful, and temporarily luminous. I missed the eclipse of last week due to cloud cover. Because the cold November morning was largely absent vehicles or other people, I observed the streaks in the solitary stillness. Not bad for a Monday morning!

PS no picture of the meteorites… Too transitory to stand in the cold with my camera up, waiting. Witnessing them and archiving a memory in my head will have to be enough.

X
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Lemon Moment, Photography, Politics, Religion, Social Rules

Voting In The Trees

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Yesterday, I thought I was in line for free pizza. Much to my surprise, I turned out to be in the voting line. I’m not sure I trust a world in which I’m able to vote. This time, despite dropping my license behind the table and next to the window (where it was almost unreachable), I relentlessly repeated my name and address as if I were being interrogated. I’ve voted early for so many cycles that I forgot how different it is to vote on the actual day.

I voted at Sequoyah UM Church. It was fast and efficient. Remarkably so. Whoever is in charge there did an outstanding job. Other than letting a couple of loons on the ballot. Whenever I see obviously unqualified candidates, much less fringe ones, I remind myself that maybe I, too, could get elected without much sense or qualifications.

Don’t worry about my vote counting. I am still so liberal that I might as well be voting in Finland as in Arkansas.

After voting, I wandered the back half of the property. It was not well-maintained, but I had some moments of beauty walking back there. The weather was uncharacteristically warm and calm for November. It was odd to sit on the benches in front of the rudimentary cross, feeling the sun filter through the trees and listening to the birds sing. Not too far away, the hectic comings and goings of voters might as well have been a mile away. It was a contemplative place, one that I alone owned for several minutes. I admit that it was a bit strange thinking that the ballot contained an initiative for religious freedom; it’s obvious that the intent is anything but motivated by freedom. Had I been in that mindset, I’m sure I could have felt the presence of a creator in those trees and on those benches. Please don’t fault me for not feeling such a presence. It was sufficient to be there, seeing the beautiful world around me.

When I walked across the dilapidated bridge walkway and emerged from the trees, a man exiting the voting place asked me what was back there.

“Five minutes of peace if you search for it.” I smiled.

“I’m in a hurry, but I’d really like to see.”

“You only live once. Just tell them a crazy guy at the church where you voted told you to take a moment.”

He laughed. “Deal! They will believe that.”

As I walked toward my car on the opposite end and side of the building, I turned to see him traverse the wooden bridge and disappear behind the treeline.

I’m certain he found something worthwhile back there.
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I rendered myself transparent in the picture because I felt a little other-worldly in the retreat behind the trees.

Love, X
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Jimmy, Lemon Moment, Music, Nostalgia, Personal, Uncategorized

Mullet Memories

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I’m in my cathedral at work. Because I usually have a couple of hours with no one in here with me, I can blast heavenly music curated with the intent to inspire or motivate. My cousin Jimmy used to torture me with Metallica, and sometimes with horrible bands like Pantera. Because he’s been on my mind a lot lately, I played a few songs for him and had to laugh. I also played “Far From Home” by Five Finger Death Punch, a song Jimmy didn’t live long enough to enjoy.I ended the set with a heavenly song from Il Divo, probably the most opposite and contrasting music possible. In his last few years, he would have appreciated the switch. And we probably would have laughed about his mullet.

Each of us has had our mullet years, the ones characterized by uncertain identity and our place in this world.

When we get older, we laugh about our mullet years. But nostalgia makes it golden.

Some of you are probably living through the best years of your life and you don’t even realize it.

Take a minute today and crank up one of your favorite songs. If you do, I hope it makes you vibrant and joyous.

If it doesn’t, go ahead and fill out that  AARP application.

Love, X
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Poetry And Prose, Writing

The Gatherer (A Story. Or Is It?)

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I sat at my computer, composing an amusing anecdote about my day.

A gentle knock at my door startled me. I checked my outside cameras and saw no one.

A few moments later, another knock, this time a little more pronounced.

I got up to see who might be there, assuming it was a friend ducking away from my camera’s view.

I opened the door to see a man of about forty standing there. He was dressed in a suit and tie.

“May I come in?” he asked, laughing.

“Uh, no. I don’t let strangers inside, at least until they show me a gun or amuse me.”

“Hmmm. No one ever declines my request. Do you know who I am?” He smiled, awaiting an answer.

“No. Insurance salesman? Bail bond agent?”

The man laughed.

“Close. I’m The Gatherer. It’s your time, X.”

He pulled a white business card out of his back pocket. He handed it to me. The only words written on it were “The Gatherer.”

“Well, that is mysterious!” I replied.

“Look closely at my eyes, X” He stepped one step closer. Instead of backing away, I stepped one step closer to him, a trick my dad taught me. The man flinched slightly. I saw a brief surprise ripple through his shoulders.

I stared intensely. His blue eyes shifted, and I saw a blue sky with a burning field in both. It was as vivid as anything I’d ever witnessed. To my surprise, it didn’t alarm me.

“Care to guess now? I think you know. Your time is up.” He grinned.

“Well, I was promised that I would live until at least 2034, so could you come back at a more convenient time?” I laughed.

The man took a step back, a look of confusion on his face.

“That’s just twelve more years, a mere drop in the bucket.”

“I’ve had a good life. I’ve loved and been loved. But I must see how the next few years play out, Mr. Gatherer.”

“In that case, we can work something out, X. But you must invite me in where we can talk like civilized men.”

I laughed. “I don’t know how to talk like a man. And I won’t invite you in. I’ll leave the door open and if you choose to enter, you do so of your own free will. We can have a cup of coffee if you’d like.”

I turned and went to the kitchen and began preparing two cups of Keurig coffee. When I turned, Mr. Gatherer was seated in my computer chair, his hands on his lap. I handed him a cup of coffee and sat on my soft couch. My cat Güino rubbed up against the stranger’s legs. I noted that the cat’s fur stood on end each time he made contact.

“Get to it,” I said as if such conversations were a part of my daily routine.

“Perhaps I can delay my duties until 2034, but there is a catch. But you knew that.”

I nodded. He continued.

“To concede you these extra years, you must both save a life and let a life willingly go. Not cause it. Just let it happen.” I could see a hint of fire in his eyes.

“I accept.”

“What? You don’t want to know the terms?” He was definitely confused.

“No. You and I both know there is a hidden catch and a deeper context. I’m not smart enough to know what that might be. I’ll take my chances and let it ride.”

He laughed. “Would you believe me if I told you that it is much harder to save a life than to allow one to pass? You’re the first person in eighteen years who managed to get me to avoid my gathering as soon as we met.” He shook his head. I’m sure he was remembering the last person who had done so.

“I didn’t know for sure. But I like creativity, and I love good stories. I was waiting on aliens, but the reaper has a nice touch to it, too. I’m not dumb. I know my hourglass is tipping over. What happens next?”

He took a sip of coffee. “I’m going to finish this cup of coffee and tell you some secrets. In full disclosure, the truths are something you think you want to know, but they will plague you until your time to meet me again comes.”

“I survived the last president and Covid. And a Love Boat remake, so I think I’ll be okay.” I snorted a little.

“First, you will be blessed with good fortune. Not necessarily monetarily. Death pings worst when you have a good life. Second, the person you’ll have to allow to pass will surprise you. Every ounce of your body will fight it.” He smiled and his mouth curved into a cruel crescent moon.

“They will have died anyway,” I said, certain I was right.

He hesitated. “Yes, that’s true. But everyone feels like they could have done something. And in your case, you could have.”

I stood up and walked toward him. “Look into my eyes and you’ll see what’s there.”

The Gatherer peered directly at my face. I let him delve into my memories. His eyes widened in shock. I knew he found that hardness left from my childhood, the same hardness that allowed me to survive it. Few people knew that it was a tangible thing sitting in my heart. He saw that I had been convinced more than once that I was already seeing my own death. And that I had witnessed death that convinced me I might not make it out alive afterward.

“Hmmm. Interesting. They didn’t tell me you were one of those people. But everyone breaks under the deal I’m making.” He patted Güino’s head. I could hear my cat purr. He finished his cup of coffee in one gulp.

“Before I go, I must share another truth with you, X. In another version of your life, you should have been wildly successful, traveling the world and helping people. That life was glorious.” He smiled with his teeth this time.

I reached out my hand to shake his. “I assume when we shake hands, I’m agreeing to the terms and conditions, whatever they might be.”

He nodded and took my hand. His hand was cold but shockingly hard and firm.

“Before you go,” I told him, “look into my eyes one more time. I already see the loophole.”

He shook his head. “No, you don’t. No one does.”

“Look, then.”

And he did, drawing in a powerful breath and holding it.

I let him peer into the future, the future I was choosing.

He saw it, the loophole closing in my head.

“That IS interesting! No one ever sees it.”

“It’s simple. As long as I am ready to go, the deal dies with me. I still have free will to make my choice. It will have given me the choice of a few more years. I will save a life and give my own. That’s the way it’s always been, hasn’t it?”

He laughed. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

“You as well.”

As he walked out, he turned and said, “I will meet you again, X”

“Yes, but when I’m ready. That’s the deal. And lose the suit and tie. Wear something casual and enjoy yourself.”

He closed the door behind him.

I sat back down at the computer. Güino jumped into my lap as I began to write again.

Love, X

Ancestry, Death, DNA, Family, Genealogy, Jimmy, Privacy

Dear Jimmy:

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I have a surprise for you!

You’ve been gone many years. 2013 was two iterations of my life ago.

You left a legacy of which you weren’t aware.

You have beautiful grandchildren from a daughter you never knew of.

She found out today that you’re her father. That’s staggering news for anyone who wanted the simple truth and simplicity of an answer.

I’m sorry life took you so early. You’d be older and tired of the habits that deflected you from focusing on what makes you happy.

I can imagine you walking up to your daughter for the first time, seeing her children, your grandchildren. Especially if your smart and handsome son Noah were with you, each of you seeing a silhouette of yourselves in her face.

I’ve done the best I can to give your daughter some closure.

Your daughter will be able to separate what you call mistakes from the fact that you were in the world. She’s here because you were.

I’m humbled by the fact that science and DNA can unlock doors in a way that people couldn’t.

Knowing the past doesn’t change it. Judging it doesn’t color or discolor any of our previous chapters.

I didn’t find out my own dad had fathered a child until 26 years after his death. That I had another sister was a secret for 46 years. There’s no doubt that some of my family knew about her. They chose to rob us of the opportunity to know each other. I understand it even though I disagree. Age gives me the ability to dislike it but also to nod my head to some degree. Most of us are doing the best we can, and such decisions are complicated.

Jimmy, I know that your daughter would have brought you joy. She’s married and loved. She’s smart, kind, and the perfect complement to Noah, who is the embodiment of what you’d want your son to be.

Be proud wherever you are.

I sit in amazement at how life still surprises me, Jimmy.

I would give anything to have you here, even for an afternoon, to watch your eyes dance with joy meeting the daughter you never knew you had. To listen to your stupid, outrageous laugh.

For now, though, I’m still happy with this turn of events.

Maybe we will talk about it one day.

For now, know that you have a daughter who finally got a lot of answers. I’ve shared your pictures and stories with her. Her children can look at the family tree I’ve made and see through generations.

I used a picture of your daughter Brianna when she was 13. It was the month you died. It brings me to tears knowing you had such a sweet young daughter who was hidden.

With Love, X
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