The Thing All Our Relationships Have In Common
When we talk about relationships we usually mean the type which is a subject in many movies, the type where two people meet, sparks fly, something goes wrong, and then everything's right. We assess these relationships as being fundamentally separate from all other relationships we have, but I think that's not true, at least in my opinion. Perhaps I think so because recently I have been observing a common pattern in people engaged in all kinds of relationships and today, I will talk about it.
Have you ever heard a young man or woman say, "I wish I could just give up this family life and travel! I need my space. I need my freedom." Or something along those lines.
Have you ever heard a parent say, "I don't know why I had kids. I was so much better off without them." Or something along those lines.
Have you ever heard a spouse say, "I could have been so much had it not been for the pressures of the family. I had dreams and I had the talent. But what can I do? Family comes first."
Have you ever heard someone young say, "I'm never getting married. It's such a trap. Once you're in it's so hard to get out."
We've all heard these complaints, and I'm sorry to say that these complaints are more commonly heard from males than females, not because females have a different attitude but because that's currently the socially accepted norm (and can we please not dwell on this gender difference for too long and move on to the matter at hand?). It's so common to get tired of the relationships that bind us down, so understandable to get frustrated by the people who are closest to us.
A lot of us reason that it's because human beings are biologically not designed to get stuck with the same groups of people forever, and that is especially problematic since we live twice as long now. There are narratives of how being shackled inhibits our creativity and productivity, examples of how single men and women have done great things in life which may have not been possible had they had three other living beings to worry about. I'll admit there is some substance to this argument. I do think some amount of distance is important, and it is at that distance that our best can come to light.
My only issue is that I've noticed a pattern where whenever people talk about being too tied down, they're usually talking about being the one that would leave and not the one that would be left behind. In a lot of people's heads, their hero's journey begins with leaving, but getting left behind is quite the opposite of being a hero. It's being a victim, a ground for disillusionment and suffering.
Don't get me wrong here. There are relationships which truly are unhappy and people definitely have the choice of leaving them. Here. we are talking about relationships that, in our hearts, we do cherish and would hate to lose, but lose sight of the value of when we're too close to them. In our heads, we grow the idea that we'd be doing so much more if not for the people we are bound to. My favorite example of people thinking this was when a couple of my friends said to me, "I sit with my work for so long but what can I do? The minute I reach an epiphany somebody from my family assigns me with a task I must perform right away. It breaks my flow." And all I could think was, "Well, that's one heck of a coincidence, isn't it?"
A lot has been said about how romantic comedies give people unrealistic expectations. But not a lot has been said about how the narratives that are the exact opposite of these give us unrealistic expectations, too. The act of leaving has been associated with emancipation and independence, coupled with the romantic notion of 'If you love them, let them go.' I agree with that caveat but I don't think people are necessarily trying to hold us back anyways. But the way it's portrayed is that the people in our lives are essentially hurdles in the path to freedom, and it is only by cutting some ties that we can attain a state of fulfillment or realize our dreams.
Pop culture also plays a part. We hear stories of great men and women who've done so much without any familial responsibilities and very soon 'greatness' becomes connected to 'detachment.' We do hear stories of people who have supported each other to reach a better life, of families that have established themselves over generations, but those stories often don't have the drama of the single man who made it. We can get conditioned into believing that people are the sacrifices that we need to make to reach our goals, even when those sacrifices hurt and there's melancholy music playing in the background as our hero walks away in slow motion with a quivering chin and steely eyes.
A little bit of tragic romanticism is good for all of. As I have mentioned before, a little bit of distance is beneficial too. But if you take people out of every equation in our life, all that remains is objects and places, and is that truly worth it? Is it possible that our constant urge to walk away is probably just a fantasy we hold on to, something that undervalues the contributions of others in our lives? These are things to think about the next time we go on a rant about what we could have been, if only there weren't so many other people to think about.
As for me, without the people who love me, I would be nobody. I feel that everyday I grow from all my relationships, even when I'm at blows with my family, when I'm at odds with my parents, when somebody's in tears and the other doesn't know what to do, because I think we all act out because we care. These people multiply the value of my accomplishments and set a bar of expectations that I strive to reach because I care about their opinion. As Barney Stinson says, it only matters if you're legendary if your friends are around to see it. I hope I never leave anybody behind.
Have you ever heard a young man or woman say, "I wish I could just give up this family life and travel! I need my space. I need my freedom." Or something along those lines.
Have you ever heard a parent say, "I don't know why I had kids. I was so much better off without them." Or something along those lines.
Have you ever heard a spouse say, "I could have been so much had it not been for the pressures of the family. I had dreams and I had the talent. But what can I do? Family comes first."
Have you ever heard someone young say, "I'm never getting married. It's such a trap. Once you're in it's so hard to get out."
We've all heard these complaints, and I'm sorry to say that these complaints are more commonly heard from males than females, not because females have a different attitude but because that's currently the socially accepted norm (and can we please not dwell on this gender difference for too long and move on to the matter at hand?). It's so common to get tired of the relationships that bind us down, so understandable to get frustrated by the people who are closest to us.
A lot of us reason that it's because human beings are biologically not designed to get stuck with the same groups of people forever, and that is especially problematic since we live twice as long now. There are narratives of how being shackled inhibits our creativity and productivity, examples of how single men and women have done great things in life which may have not been possible had they had three other living beings to worry about. I'll admit there is some substance to this argument. I do think some amount of distance is important, and it is at that distance that our best can come to light.
My only issue is that I've noticed a pattern where whenever people talk about being too tied down, they're usually talking about being the one that would leave and not the one that would be left behind. In a lot of people's heads, their hero's journey begins with leaving, but getting left behind is quite the opposite of being a hero. It's being a victim, a ground for disillusionment and suffering.
Don't get me wrong here. There are relationships which truly are unhappy and people definitely have the choice of leaving them. Here. we are talking about relationships that, in our hearts, we do cherish and would hate to lose, but lose sight of the value of when we're too close to them. In our heads, we grow the idea that we'd be doing so much more if not for the people we are bound to. My favorite example of people thinking this was when a couple of my friends said to me, "I sit with my work for so long but what can I do? The minute I reach an epiphany somebody from my family assigns me with a task I must perform right away. It breaks my flow." And all I could think was, "Well, that's one heck of a coincidence, isn't it?"
A lot has been said about how romantic comedies give people unrealistic expectations. But not a lot has been said about how the narratives that are the exact opposite of these give us unrealistic expectations, too. The act of leaving has been associated with emancipation and independence, coupled with the romantic notion of 'If you love them, let them go.' I agree with that caveat but I don't think people are necessarily trying to hold us back anyways. But the way it's portrayed is that the people in our lives are essentially hurdles in the path to freedom, and it is only by cutting some ties that we can attain a state of fulfillment or realize our dreams.
Pop culture also plays a part. We hear stories of great men and women who've done so much without any familial responsibilities and very soon 'greatness' becomes connected to 'detachment.' We do hear stories of people who have supported each other to reach a better life, of families that have established themselves over generations, but those stories often don't have the drama of the single man who made it. We can get conditioned into believing that people are the sacrifices that we need to make to reach our goals, even when those sacrifices hurt and there's melancholy music playing in the background as our hero walks away in slow motion with a quivering chin and steely eyes.
A little bit of tragic romanticism is good for all of. As I have mentioned before, a little bit of distance is beneficial too. But if you take people out of every equation in our life, all that remains is objects and places, and is that truly worth it? Is it possible that our constant urge to walk away is probably just a fantasy we hold on to, something that undervalues the contributions of others in our lives? These are things to think about the next time we go on a rant about what we could have been, if only there weren't so many other people to think about.
As for me, without the people who love me, I would be nobody. I feel that everyday I grow from all my relationships, even when I'm at blows with my family, when I'm at odds with my parents, when somebody's in tears and the other doesn't know what to do, because I think we all act out because we care. These people multiply the value of my accomplishments and set a bar of expectations that I strive to reach because I care about their opinion. As Barney Stinson says, it only matters if you're legendary if your friends are around to see it. I hope I never leave anybody behind.
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