Archetypes, Assholes and Jesus

Now that I'm back to my usual charming self after all the commotion last week over Mr. Wisdom, I've been thinking about all the commotion last week with Mr. Wisdom.  Fortunately, the full moon in Virgo last week was all about Clarity, and it always helps to have the moon on your side.  I learned that from Gwendolyn Holden Barry of New Global Myth and Daughters of Isis/Ancesestor Aromachologie.

I've been saying for years that I wanted to settle into this new phase of my life with as an independent, autonomous individual.  I've never done that before.  Even when I was choosing which college to attend, that decision was based mostly on where my friends were so I could have the most fun.  It was my own decision to run off with a Yankee to New York, but I'd have never done that if there hadn't been a Yankee in the first place.  It was all about the man.  It makes sense because the career I had chosen for myself was Wife and Mother, and my BA in English was essentially and MRS.  Before the Yankee, it was The Man from San Antone.  Before that,  my choices were pretty much based on what my parents said they would subsidize.

Ergo:  Now that I'm a grown woman with a modest independence, I wanted to decide whether to live in New York City or Texas without having a man influence my decision - besides Velvet, of course.  He's still a man-child, but he's a man nevertheless and the only man who I choose to allow to be a factor in my decisions.   Once I settled on New York, I wanted to establish a new home for me and Velvet on my own.   If you look at a situation in terms of the unconscious at work or from sort of a yoga-ish perspective where your energy goes out into the Universe and the Universe responds accordingly,  then I've gotten exactly what I wanted all along, because without Mr. Wisdom in the picture,  I'm moving into my new place without a man telling me what to do.

I don't mean to be disrespectful to men.  We all know how much I like the way they smell - or at least, I particularly like the way a few of them smell.  The point is that men are often driven to find solutions, and they consequently sound like they're bossing people around when they are simply offering an observation.  Given that I have shown a profound tendency in the past to see the man as an authority figure whether he wants to be in that role or not, it's probably best if there's not a man within sight while I'm trying to make up my mind about something.

Things have progressed well enough with the lawyers and the bank so that we're all shooting for me to have possession before the end of April.  Hopefully there will be enough time to get a few things done to the place before Velvet and I move in, but if not - fuck it.  I don't want to pay rent on this place for May when that money would easily cover the cost of the movers and a new dishwasher or window treatments or something.  My parents will be on hand to spring into action the minute I get the keys.

My mother has flipped 21 properties over the years, and she's able to determine the most effective use of space for the least amount of money better than anyone I ever saw.  It's a gift.   Although I value the insight and support of my friends, the only person's opinion I trust implicitly and without question with regard to real estate is my mother's.

The commotion with Mr. Wisdom last week guaranteed that there wouldn't be a man in sight while I'm jumping through the next set of hoops with the bank and with the co-op board.  There won't be one around to offer suggestions on modifying the kitchen, refinishing the floors or even to offer noncommittal remarks on paint chips.  To be clear - I'd be damn glad to have Mr. Wisdom over for dinner as soon as I've got the dishes unpacked, but until that moment, I've got enough on my mind.  And we haven't even factored in the general strike on May Day, or getting Velvet situated.  Velvet's okay, he's just still completely without direction.  He can't play Dungeons and Dragons with the trust fund crowd downtown forever.  I have strategies in place, but they have to be implemented.  Meanwhile, he can paint the fucking kitchen in the new apartment.

I've felt better ever since I sent Mr. Wisdom a note the other night saying I chose to interpret the current situation through a lens of Love instead of Fear.  I totally get it that he's stuck in a Category Five shit storm, and there's so much shit swirling around his head that's all he can see.   I closed by saying that I hope our paths cross again when he can see me as a blessing instead of as more shit.

It's really easy to see a situation with Love instead of Fear once you recognize that nobody involved means to be an asshole.  That Narcissist meant to be an asshole.  He elevated Ass-Wholery to an art.  The whole point of meeting Mr. Wisdom that night at Cafe Lux was to make sure he was not an asshole.  He may be overwhelmed and exhausted, but he's not an asshole.

If you ask me, Jesus and the Buddha were both saying that a whole new world was possible if people would consider, for just a moment, that we don't have to be assholes.  With Easter coming up, it's kind of like Jesus is on the cross, but instead of saying "Father forgive them for they know not what they do," he's saying, "GOD, they're such assholes."  The global consciousness shift we've been feeling since the harmonic convergence back in 1987 is based on essentially the same idea - we are finally achieving a critical mass so that enough people on the planet can take a breath, step back from a situation and decide they don't have to be assholes about everything.

We could look on each other and the world with love instead of fear and finally have peace, sustainability and economic justice.  It's very simple:  Stop being Assholes.  Blessed Be.

The trouble starts when people start trying to own the resources - but I'm not getting into all that shit today. It's in the book of Ishmael, by Daniel Quinn, which gives a thorough description of cultural anthropology since from about the time people started settling into agricultural communities.  The stuff about assholes can be found in Lamb:  The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal

I figure that if I'm going to Be The Change, that means all I have to do is give poor Mr. Wisdom a break.  I may have a pattern of falling for unavailable men, but I was in my right mind when I determined Mr. Wisdom is not an asshole.  Woody, who knows all about assholes since he is the founder of the American Society for Recovering Ass-Wholes,  says that it's a big deal when an ambitious, accomplished, successful executive type admits he's not in total command of a situation.  If his wife has finally realized that, as Robin Williams notably said, divorce is the latin term meaning, "to rip out a man's genitals through his wallet," Mr. Wisdom is in for a rough ride.

The thing is that when a man is getting divorced, it's tricky to be with a woman who is a heavy hitter for the other team.  And it's tricky for a heavy hitter to keep her mouth shut - which is exactly what I'd have to do in order to be objective and supportive.  At least in conversation.  Personally, I can see where there are many more productive ways to use my mouth under the circumstances.  However, I've also begun to realize that when a man is approaching 60 years old, and all his time, energy and focus are going to his kids, a time-intensive, travel-heavy job and an irate woman he's trying to divorce, having an energetic, buxom redhead sending you suggestive emails may feel like pressure to leap tall buildings in a single bound, as it were.

Besides, if he's the man I think he is, he'll be back soon.  If he's not, who cares if he never comes back?

A couple of years ago, when that Women's Studies professor was hanging around the periphery indulging in a sexy correspondence with me when he was tired of grading the essays of undergrads, I was comparing the intersection of Real Life and Fairy Tale - which is one of my favorite topics (Archetypes and Internet Romance, Stonerdate 12.19.10).  That episode wasn't the first time when the scenario unfolded much like a suitor approaching a lady in a castle or tower.  With Mr. Wisdom, I find myself in the situation again especially since the tower at the church where I work has been involved in the story itself.

I don't work in the tower.  I work on the top floor of the wing on the right and have been known to wave a giant fuchsia scarf out the window at the sailors during Fleet Week.

So here at the intersection of Real Life and Fairy Tale, I'm back in my tower, capable of taking care of myself and slaying my own dragons.  Velvet and I are on the verge of moving into a cute, cozy home with a river view, and I love my job. I spend my mornings playing with prisms and ping pong balls in a room filled with two and three year-olds who are, at essence, pure human nature on display.   Human nature, before the enculturation process takes hold, is delightful to see.  So delightful, in fact, that I'll call it Thing of Beauty #48-101.

Mr. Wisdom was following the trajectory of his own story when he came into the castle yard.  We know he's a Storyteller, a Teacher, a bit of a Dreamer, an Explorer and a Messenger.  We don't know if he's a Hero or a Vagabond, but one thing is sure - he is no Villain.

Meanwhile, my shoulder is substantially better.  The physical therapist says my mobility has increased by 16 degrees this month - which is pretty major, and I hardly need to even take anymore.  So something's going right, for sure.


*Note* Archetypes from Caroline Myss' Library, Gallery of Archetypes.