A first attempt

Earlier today, as I was walking past a railway station near where she used to live, I remembered the first person that I asked out. Given something that has happened since, this seems like a topical entry for this blog.

I was 23 at the time, and she was someone who I'd earlier met at church, but later met at tennis group classes.

Leading up to the time that I asked her out, I was a real mess - nervous and uncertain about what to do. I walked to work in the hope that it might help clear my mind ... it didn't really (but it did start that habit). There was someone else at tennis who saw us and prodded gently from the side.

Eventually, I asked her out ... she said "as friends", and I said "sure" - I figured that any relationship has to start off with friendship (maybe that is where I was so wrong).

Anyway, just before we went out, she asked if I minded if she brought along a friend - I felt trapped - how could I refuse given my previous response.

When it came to the night, I went around to her place (a nice looking place hidden in one of the back streets of Hawthorn), and when she greeted me at the door, I gave her some chocolates (how cliche, I know).

She invited me inside and we had some wine and cheese - I felt so much out of place - like a fish out of water. This seemed far to sophisticated for me. I felt like I was a little school boy and she was someone so much older (she was 26 ... I was 23 - so that wouldn't have helped).

After the wine and cheese (and me feeling like I was sinking into the chair / like I was way out of my depth), we went to see a movie - I had Mum's car, and I trove them. She sat her friend in the front and sat herself in the back. This, along with the conversation wherein she seemed to be directing me and her friend to chat, made me feel like she was trying to set me up with her.

After the movie ("Awakenings"), I drove her and her friend home, dropping them off at her door before feeling like I was racing off. At tennis, I barely acknowledged her. At church, a couple of years later, I was helping serve communion one year and saw her - this really turned me upside down at the time. Nearly nine years later, I worked up the courage to send her a Christmas card in which I wrote the following letter:

I don't know if you remember me - I'm a bit of a ghost from the past - eight to nine years ago, to be exact. If you can remember back to the time when you were living in Hawthorn, and taking tennis lessons, then you might remember that I once (very clumsily) tried to ask you out - we saw "Awakenings" with a friend of yours. We haven't really spoken to or seen each other since.

Anyway, I have been thinking of you, and for quite a while now have been wanting to look you up and to catch up with you - to see what you've been doing, how you've been going, etc.

I noticed (from the phone book a few years ago) that you were no longer living in Hawthorn, but was able to find you number (and therefore your current address) through other (legitimate) avenues - I hope you don't mind.

Anyway, I'd love to see you at some time (yes, just as a friend) to catch up. Perhaps dinner, lunch or a coffee some time (or for something different, breakfast one Sunday morning)?

It would be great to hear from you.

Ironically, about six months after sending the card (and hearing no response), I was at a function which she also attended. To quote my words from my diary at the time:

A ghost from the past was also there. I'm not really sure if she recognised me, but I know that I did my best to pretend that I didn't know her, and we never got close enough to speak. Interestingly enough, if I'd known that she was going to be there, it probably would have been enough for me not to go - not because I don't want to catch up with her, but more because I'm paranoid that she hates me, or that she might think I'm stalking her or something. Having said this, this morning I really wanted to sit down and write her a letter asking if she hated me, etc.

Anyway, that was TS - the first person I ever asked out ... and it was a month shy of another three years before I tried asking anyone else out (which ironically put me at the same age as TS was when I asked her out).

Now, while this blog entry may be interesting (or maybe it paints me as a stalker ... or a total loser), there is more to it than that. Yes, one of the things on my blog list is to recant stories of those who I've asked out - as they help paint a picture of who I was, and how I got to be who I am, but this seemed topical for reasons beyond the fact that I remembered it today.

I went looking at lounge suites today with my wife. She has a particular style that she likes - a style that I am at best cool towards (and incidentally, the style I am warmer towards is one that she describes as very common, boring, baby-boomer-ish ... or something along those lines). I have been trying to place my finger on why I feel cool towards the lounge suite style she likes - in another observation I wrote today (thinking as I wrote, but not being very certain) "the styles that she likes I tend to see as ... I don't know ... perhaps try-hard sophisticated snobbery, academic chaos ... I'm not sure I can quite place it". To use nicer words, I think this style feels like it is trying to be too sophisticated, and perhaps I don't' see myself that way. It conjures up images of trendy and perhaps pretentious high brow lounge rooms in clubs where there is a veneer of falseness over everything. Note that a lot of these comments, on reflection, may not ring true to me - please forgive the attempt to put words around feelings that are at best vague.

While I don't really see anything wrong with the current lounge suite, if we had this other type, I would probably feel the same about it.

I guess that what I'm trying to say in tying these two subjects (TS & lounge) together is that the feelings from both are similar - like I'm being put into a situation which feels falsely sophisticated - as if it is trying to make me feel out of place or create a lie. I know that is not my wife's intent, but that is my best attempt at identifying my response to the lounge.

When we were in the shop, she started to walk off in a huff when I didn't give a positive response to the lounge. At home later, she started complaining about the style in which I furnished my place ("it says a lot about you ...," she said). She also complained about not feeling at home here ... which is a very poor reflection on me after three years of marriage. I hope in writing this, it doesn't frustrate her further.

Living in Limbo

The title for today's entry came to me while I was walking into work this morning ... not that I have a shortage of other titles (many of which also came to me while walking wo work), but today's seemed most pertinent at the moment, and in a strange way it ties back to a life that is "sustainable". Both have a feeling of waiting for something to happen, of nothing changing, of the same old routines and outcomes being repeated over and over, of being stuck in a rut.

Why do I feel like I am living in Limbo at the moment, and is this feeling isolated to just one area or is it across a multitude of areas in my life?

Unfortunately it is across a number of areas. At home, my marriage feels like it is somewhat in limbo, at work I feel like my career is in limbo, other escapes I may have in life (dancing, diving, tennis) are the same, and that list of things that I need (want) to tidy up at home (getting my life in order) is no better.

Let's start with my marriage. I think that since day dot, both Nina and I have been hedging our bets that things may not work out, and while we are both committed to making it work, sometimes I fear that one day one of us will toss in the towel (she often tries to convince me to jump) or decide that we will be happier not married to each other. She commented last night that she still sees everything as mine - it is my house (not hers), my bed (not hers), etc. Naturally, I told her that they are ours, and added for good measure that I am her husband, but to a degree I feel a bit the same - I can still identify which books on our bookshelves and CDs on the CD racks are "mine" and which are "hers". We each have our own computers and cars which the other barely touches or uses, and our finances are not at all intertwined (she has a couple of my credit cards with her name on them). We have thought about getting a pet, but at the back of my mind is a worry about what happens if we don't stay together. This feeling is compounded many times over when the subject of having a child comes up (the subject of its own future blog entry). Recently, I have been thinking of getting a new car (packaging it through work) - but for this to make any sense, we would probably need to get rid of both of our cars (and even then it would cost more than we are spending today) - one of my worries with this is that if Nina and I split up, then she will be left without any form of transportation. Indeed, it may sound silly, but one of my fears if our marriage fails is that of what will happen to Nina.

My career … where do I start? At the moment I am not feeling at all engaged in my job. That can be read a couple of ways, and in writing it, I intend it to mean both of them. At the moment, I am not mentally engaged or stimulated in what I am doing, and I do not feel that I am being used in an effective manner or providing optimal value to my employer. This means that the days drag on, I am not getting a sense of achieving anything and do not feel a lot of professional self-worth or value. It also means that I feel no purpose in my job and have little optimism regarding my longer term career prospects. In effect, I feel like I am marking time in what I am doing. The irony is that my employer seems to be happy with what I am doing – which only makes me feel like more of a cheat. With this lack of optimism about future career prospects in my current role, and uncertainty about how long my current role will last, thoughts of that new car (mentioned earlier) become even more cautious.

In the past, I have had a number of other escapes in my life. These have included scuba diving, tennis, and dancing. For at least the last year or two, I have not been involved in any of these activities. In some ways I miss them, but in other ways I feel trapped in a rut and can’t motivate myself sufficiently to take any of these up again. I often also feel like I am doing things for the sake of doing it, but am more watching myself rather than being emerged in the activity. It is almost like I am living my life outside my body and judging my performance and actions. This is a hard way to live. It is especially hard as I often can’t honestly say that I know how I really feel about the activities that I do – and therefore am left questioning why I might want to do a particular activity.

I learnt to scuba dive about 9 years ago, and did it for about a year, but stopped because I got terribly seasick. Also, the water here is generally quite cold and I often felt out of place when diving and socialising with the diving crowd. Since I got married, I haven’t been bothered to take it up again – partly because of the time aspect, partly because you need a buddy (Nina is not allowed to dive), and partly because of the effort involved. Yes, I say I’d love to be really comfortable and proficient at it, but have never done it enough.

Tennis has been an on-again, off-again sort of activity – at the moment it is off again. The biggest reasons as to why I don’t play at the moment are a mixture of inconvenience at having to get out of the house in time for the games, never being good enough at it, coordinating meals with Nina if/when I do play, and now, because it clashes with the personal trainer that Nina & I see.

Dancing is something that I did for a dozen years before I married Nina, and something that I encouraged her to start. I have stopped (relatively) recently for a number of reasons. I have achieved most of the medals (grading levels) that the studio offered, my teacher was getting short with me and seemed to be trying me to dance styles that I didn’t like so much, and it was getting to be too much of a drain on my finances (especially with a mortgage). Now that Nina is working again, and now that I’ve had a break, it might be fun to start it back up again, but I am not sure I know how to get back into it.

The final thing that I mentioned at the start – the final reason why I feel like I am in limbo – is the endless list of tasks that I have that need doing at home. I have a mental list of tasks that never seems to see any items being ticked off, and the complexity or time required for the items on the list seems only ever to grow. Of course, writing a blog only makes this list longer and diverts me from the other tasks.

A Hedonistic Life

I noted previously that my life at the moment was best described as sustainable, and that I wanted to change it, so what do I want it to become?

The most obvious answer might be "more hedonistic", but what does this mean.

"Hedonistic" is a term that my wife often uses - she says that she used to live a hedonistic life (before me ...) and that is what she still aspires to. She goes on to describe her old life by saying that she was always out, she drank a bit (too much?), and didn't really have any cares. But every time she starts this discussion, I am left wondering what it really means.

The typical way that I often think of it is in Old Testament tales of Sodom and Gomorrah, but that seems to be an extreme expression of what hedonism might be. If that was my wife's definition, then I might expect sex every morning AND night (sadly ... or perhaps thankfully, that doesn't happen).

My trusty little dictionary from about 30 years ago (when I was in 6th grade) defines hedonism as the "doctrine that pleasure is the chief good." Useful, but not overly enlightening.

Wikipedia's contributors provide several definitions that basically also summarise it as the "pursuit of pleasure", but they also leave it open as to what this may really mean.

The problem, as I see it, of defining what Hedonism means is that everybody has their own definition of what "pleasure" is. This, of course, would imply that everyone is hedonistic - but this doesn't really help much.

To some people, a hedonistic life might be one where nobody else matters - an attitude that might be better described as selfish or self-centred. Without meaning to be critical or judgmental, I believe that this may be the sense in which my wife uses the term.

For me, however, the "self above all others" mindset feels uncomfortable. I see and get great pleasure from watching and being with others who are getting pleasure. I feel uncomfortable if I am the centre of attention too much, but do like to do things that give pleasure to others.

In writing about pleasure in "The Prophet", Kahil Gibran wrote, "to both, bee and flower, the giving and the receiving of pleasure is a need and an ecstasy." To take the selfish definition of hedonism would seem to be shallow and miss half the story.

So yes, I obviously want a more hedonistic lifestyle, but the pleasure I seek is not shallow - it must have depth.

The title of this blog

"Beyond Sustainable" - Why did I choose that name?

Some weeks ago on SBS (TV station) there was a show about the work of William McDonough & Michael Braungart on ecologically intelligent design. One of the points that they made in the story was about "sustainable development" - they noted that if you were to ask someone how they were going and they said "sustainable", you'd probably think "oh, that's not very good", yet when we talk about the environment, we frequently talk about "sustainable development" as being a panacea. It isn't.

To the greenies out there who think this might be another flagship blog for their cause, it isn't. That discussion about the word "sustainable" struck a nerve with me. How have I been feeling? "Sustainable" would have been quite an apt way to describe it. Obviously, then, my goal is to move "beyond sustainable" - thus the title of this blog.