The Crazy Hippie
One of the interesting things about writing about relationships, day in and day out, is that we gain some insight. This week, as we delve into the question ‘What do you do when your family is more f’d up than you?’ we find ourselves learning something, which makes us both very uncomfortable. We wouldn’t want to start a trend, would we?
Paul says: I have been trying to figure out how to write this post without getting into too much trouble. When we talk about family, over-disclosing can result in a world of hurt. Without saying too much, I think that it is safe to say that I have a brother. I’m not going to give you his address and social security number nor will I layout his childhood traumas and their resulting impact on his life (as I see them). I can say that I would like to be closer with him. You know, communicate more. That kind of stuff. We do not have a bad relationship in that there is no bad blood or animosity but we do not have a close relationship. That is how today’s thought process began.
Now, here is the twist. As I was cataloging the differences between us and looking for the things that I could write about without the threat of a weepy, angry phone call from my Mom, I realized that I was the one that was considered the more f’d up in this scenario. Ok, maybe not on the cosmic ‘healthy person’ scale but from a personal reality I can see where I am the more ‘trying’ person of the two.
My brother and I are very different: married/unmarried, bohemian writer/ corporate entrepreneur, tall/short. I’m thinking that I should find out what the mailman looked like nine months before I was born, just to see if there are any genetic similarities. I know that Lee and I are not everyone’s cup of tea. I’ve been known to cry. Tales of my soul journey, when I became a cougar, may not be for everybody. A night of wine and discussions of existential issues that bind us to our unhealthy selves may not be the big party that I think it is. I hear that some guys like to talk about sports.
So I’m a few steps off of the beaten path but I do believe that I am healthy. I’ve spent a lot of time and effort to get to this odd state of wellness and I am not about to let that go. Somewhere between my search for psychic wellbeing and my brother’s boundaries, whether I find them appropriate or not, is common ground. It is a Venn diagram, two circles that overlap. One is me and what I want and the other is my bro and his needs. Somewhere the two overlap.
So here is the task: finding the overlap in all of our relationships. As we do and over time, the area of overlap will grow and grow until we are all one in peace and harmony.
Shit, I am a hippie freak!
Lee says: Yes, you are. That’s what I love about you. Unfortunately dear readers, where my husband sees healthy I see self-deprecating. Acknowledging that you are ‘trying’ or a ‘hippie freak’ because certain modalities in the therapeutic world worked for you isn’t exactly certifiable as are some of the people we have to contend with. Paul is loving, social and hard working. He is quite affable and is considered the saint to my devil. His comparison with his sibling is silly. Neither of them are the pain in the ass, f’d up people that we are talking about.
And, while on that subject, why the hell am I saying f’d up? Everyone knows fuck is used quite liberally on this site. Did I miss a memo?