12.10.04
Posted in culture at 9:54 am by
Just to clarify, don’t let the title of this entry make you think that I’ve got this all figured out. I heard a song though, by David Wilcox, last weekend that shed some light on the topic. Of course, it works backwards, too. That is, I could’ve just as easily entered the title of this post as how to be a good wife. However, that sounds a little condescending coming from a man.
The point is the first thing you need to do in any good relationship is to break up. That’s how David puts it. The concept being that if you break up, you’re free to have true conversations. By ‘true conversations’ I’m talking about those conversations that are about the truth.
It always bothers me that people make ‘the truth’ out to be this glorious achievement. As if you’ve reached the pinnacle of holiness if you can somehow be honest with folks. The truth is that ‘the truth’ isn’t very glorious at all. Lies are glorious.
For example, I’ve jumped out of a helicopter and skied down a mountain from the very top. Lie. Never did it. Sounds glorious and wonderful, doesn’t it. Very self promoting, I think. The truth is that I like to ski. I don’t do it very well. When I ski down a mountain, it isn’t from the top. Also, I tend to resemble a camel in snowshoes when I ski.
I’ve actually told that lie. Probably to countless friends, each of whom I can’t even keep straight. It made me seem like I had the bravado that I really don’t have in real life. (Unless, of course, you count my daily decrys of fundy failures as bravado…I tend to think of that, though, as beligerence.)
But, my friends, when you get into a relationship which there’s some value needed to stabilize the image of the person to whom you’re attached, you tend to tell lies. Initially, those lies are little lies. You probably don’t even think of them as lies.
But, those lies can mutate. Usually, though, they don’t mutate into bigger lies–at least they haven’t for me. For me, those lies turn into conversations like this one:
Jen: How was your day, Honey?
Brandon: Mmmph. Good. (Doesn’t look up from laptop.)
There’s very little, if any, truth in that conversation. No connection, no real talk. Jen pursued me in that conversation and rather than revealing the tapestry that I’ve been created to be, I’ve revealed the 15 dollar dimestore welcome mat.
If you’ve read this far, you know that you don’t really need to break up in order to have that conversation. You just need to focus. Focus on the truth, no matter how bad that truth sucks. And, that’s the thing. The truth is rarely glorious. It’s usually boring. And, it’s the most important boring thing relationships have to offer.
Permalink
Trackback URL »
http://www.badchristian.com/2004/12/10/how_to_be_a_good_husband/trackback/
Posted in culture at 9:54 am by
Just to clarify, don’t let the title of this entry make you think that I’ve got this all figured out. I heard a song though, by David Wilcox, last weekend that shed some light on the topic. Of course, it works backwards, too. That is, I could’ve just as easily entered the title of this post as how to be a good wife. However, that sounds a little condescending coming from a man.
The point is the first thing you need to do in any good relationship is to break up. That’s how David puts it. The concept being that if you break up, you’re free to have true conversations. By ‘true conversations’ I’m talking about those conversations that are about the truth.
It always bothers me that people make ‘the truth’ out to be this glorious achievement. As if you’ve reached the pinnacle of holiness if you can somehow be honest with folks. The truth is that ‘the truth’ isn’t very glorious at all. Lies are glorious.
For example, I’ve jumped out of a helicopter and skied down a mountain from the very top. Lie. Never did it. Sounds glorious and wonderful, doesn’t it. Very self promoting, I think. The truth is that I like to ski. I don’t do it very well. When I ski down a mountain, it isn’t from the top. Also, I tend to resemble a camel in snowshoes when I ski.
I’ve actually told that lie. Probably to countless friends, each of whom I can’t even keep straight. It made me seem like I had the bravado that I really don’t have in real life. (Unless, of course, you count my daily decrys of fundy failures as bravado…I tend to think of that, though, as beligerence.)
But, my friends, when you get into a relationship which there’s some value needed to stabilize the image of the person to whom you’re attached, you tend to tell lies. Initially, those lies are little lies. You probably don’t even think of them as lies.
But, those lies can mutate. Usually, though, they don’t mutate into bigger lies–at least they haven’t for me. For me, those lies turn into conversations like this one:
Jen: How was your day, Honey?
Brandon: Mmmph. Good. (Doesn’t look up from laptop.)
There’s very little, if any, truth in that conversation. No connection, no real talk. Jen pursued me in that conversation and rather than revealing the tapestry that I’ve been created to be, I’ve revealed the 15 dollar dimestore welcome mat.
If you’ve read this far, you know that you don’t really need to break up in order to have that conversation. You just need to focus. Focus on the truth, no matter how bad that truth sucks. And, that’s the thing. The truth is rarely glorious. It’s usually boring. And, it’s the most important boring thing relationships have to offer.
Permalink
Trackback URL »
http://www.badchristian.com/2004/12/10/how_to_be_a_good_husband/trackback/
Shannon said,
December 10, 2004 at 12:03 pm
I’ve been with my boyfriend for over four years now, starting before my senior year of high school and through to what is now my senior year of college. We broke up between high school and college, and it was probably one of the best things ever for our relationship. Because I knew he would love me no matter what (we were very good friends) and I didn’t have to worry about him breaking up with me, I could spill all of my worries, doubts, fears, weird thoughts, etc. etc. that before I would have worried about him knowing. It allowed us to be totally honest and say things that we wouldn’t have been able to otherwise. It turned our relationship from a high school romance into something much more important, much deeper, and much truer. We ended up getting back together that Thanksgiving, but those three months separated made a world of difference. It’s probably a different style of truth than you are talking about here, but it’s still truth, nonetheless.
Liesa said,
December 10, 2004 at 1:20 pm
The Fish and I broke up for about 6 months, and like Shannon, it was the best thing we could have done for ourselves. We got too caught up in the ‘husband wife’ roles that we forgot how to be friends. That time apart from each other allowed us to build that friendship and helped us to see what we had done wrong, and we strive daily to hold onto that friendship first and foremost.
kate said,
December 10, 2004 at 2:10 pm
I’m another blogger whose relationship was incalculably enriched by an AGONIZING break up. Those three months we were apart were the worst three months of my life, but I can see now that they were necessary for our growth as individuals, and therefore as a couple. I learned more about God, suffering, and the nature of grace and faith in that time period than I had in the 24 years leading up to it, I think, because I had to LIVE what I’d always believed–had to believe that God was present and loving even in the midst of a shitstorm, had to believe that God would resurrect and restore me, Nathan or no Nathan. And God did. Even if Nate and I hadn’t reconciled, I think I would be grateful for that time, albeit in a completely different way–after all, I did get the guy in the end!
H. Kent Craig said,
December 10, 2004 at 3:25 pm
Brandon,
In one of those truly amazing non-coincident-coincedences, today as you publish “How To Be A Good Husband” about the sometimes need for space and such to preserve a relationship, today, as in this morning, my wife of the past four years and I finally got officially divorced, after a year and a half’s separation (1 year minimum legal separation is required before a divorce can be granted in North Carolina).
Of course, it was today’s fodder for my blog, and you can read the entire treatise about the divorce, my views on divorce and marriage, my Gnostic Christian perspectives on that and other related topics, etc., at:
http://hkentcraig.com/P5.html
…a truly amazing “Grand Will” coincidence, your entry and mine today.
In another matter, changing the channels, would you mind linking back to me, please? Just being honest, your Google PR/Page Rank is “5″ and my humble little blog just begun last month has a PR of just “2″, so a linkback on your mainpage links section would definitely be appreciated, Thanks!
Lara said,
December 10, 2004 at 3:25 pm
The spirit of that song seems to fit well with the themes on Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind as well. I’ve been meaning to write about that for some time now….
Although David also addresses another issue of Eternal Sunshine in “When You’re Ready”.
Brandon said,
December 11, 2004 at 1:01 pm
This actually isn’t Brandon, it’s Jen (I just don’t know how to change who this is from…this is why I don’t keep a real blog). Anyway, on a lighter note than the previous comments, Brandon and I have never actually broken up. But…his lie did almost cost him the relationship. You see, I’m not a very adventurous person, and after hearing his story about jumping out of the helicopter on skis, I decided that I could never date him. At the time, he had another girlfriend, but I was still always analyzing him to decide if we could ever work together. After hearing the skiing story, I was convinced it would never work. How could a person who thinks lying on a beach for a week equals a great vacation ever work with a person who jumps out of helicopters onto mountains. How would these two ever agree on a family vacation? It was actually a few months into our relationship that I found out this never actually happened.
Just throught I’d tell the other side of the story.
Jen
Adam said,
December 12, 2004 at 10:01 pm
So if I want to have a truthful conversation with God, Do we need to break up?
Brandon said,
December 12, 2004 at 10:09 pm
I think for some people, Adam, the answer is yes. And, I think God is just dying to have that conversation with those people.
Adam said,
December 13, 2004 at 5:07 pm
Or perhaps he has already died to have that conversation with them.