I
bought a pair of cross-country skis at the Thrift Store for $10. I told a
friend at work and he asked my shoe size. He said he had a pair of shoes that
might fit me. They were his brother’s. He said his sibling had ‘checked out’
prematurely. Those were his words. I won’t use the one we commonly use because
I don’t like the word. I think it is inadequate.
Life
is hard. It’s not hard because it’s an uphill climb in both directions; it’s hard because, while we’re making the climb, we have this
urge to do something that has no place in our plans to climb the hill. As crazy
as that urge is, we must listen to it or let it drive us crazy.
One
of my many sisters initiated divorce proceedings, moved out of her house and
got a boyfriend. She never finalized the divorce, still sees her husband and is
having a good time with her new beau. That may sound illogical but it was what
she needed to do to continue on with her life.
Once,
when she was making dinner for her three children, homemade pasta with
meatballs and excellent spaghetti sauce, she confided in me that she was
worried about her ‘crazy Irish’ side. This was before she moved out and her
life was still seemingly normal to all but unbearable for her. She worried that
our family had a history of ‘early retirements’, although there were none that
I could recall.
Last
night, I had a dream about a friend of mine who is a member of our tango
community in Durango. She’s taking hormone treatments and is growing a beard.
She wants to be more masculine. I tell you what, a beard will do the trick!
A
persistent theme in this dream was my need to tell her about a man’s fear of
rejection and what a difficult emotion it was for us to deal with. When I
couldn’t bring the dream around to a scenario where I could tell her this, I
woke up and felt the need to write it down.
I
don’t think it is weird that she wants to be a man. At fifty-three, I am quite
comfortable with what people have to do to satisfy their particular urges. My ‘urge’
came when I was eighteen. I quit college and joined the Air Force. Later, I
became a whitewater river guide and began an incredible relationship with the
river and nature that pervades my life until this very day.
From
an outsider’s perspective, I’ve had a lot of disappointing setbacks: divorce,
layoff, loss of my 401K, etc. None of that bothers me because my kids are healthy and they are nearly finished with college. It also helps that I took up dancing
and writing.
Dancing
the tango provides me with some sort of communal nourishment that apparently
was lacking in my life. Writing helps me understand the people I meet while dancing, my weird dreams and other peculiar things in life.
Growing
old isn’t easy. We shouldn’t expect it to be. All the events leading up to the
present - birth, puberty, parenting - are all indicators that the future will be
more of the same but in a way you never expected. Don’t fight it and don’t try
to make sense of what life is telling you to do, just do it as long as nobody
gets physically hurt.
You
are not insignificant. The Universe is absolutely aware of your existence. Often
times, we get so caught up in climbing the hill that we can’t imagine that
taking a sled and sliding down the hill for once would make us feel good. It’s medicine for the soul
prescribed by the omnipresent force that is constantly looking out for us.
I
look forward to old age but I have to admit it is a little daunting.
I imagine
leaving the womb was tough for the embryo but, after the vaginal dismount, there
was breath; puberty was extremely difficult but it did lead to sex and having
kids, which was the scariest thing I ever did yet I found it to be the most
rewarding aspect of my life, so far.
I
don’t know what lies ahead but I can say for certain that it will be hard and,
in the end, I’m reasonably sure that I will find happiness along the way.
For more of the Kayak Hombre, read my book Fear of Intimacy and the Tango Cure or River Tango. Available on Amazon.com in paperback or Kindle.
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