Saturday, August 31, 2019

 

Here we are the last day of summertime; the last day I live in this house; the last day of being with my wife.

The new season isn’t springtime. It’s autumn.

We said goodbye today. It took less than a minute. I said it was weird. She said yes. She said she was sorry it was ending this way. I said yes.

That’s how it ends. That’s how it ended for us.

My wife  is spending the night and tomorrow morning with a friend, as I had asked. I’m grateful she agreed to do this. Maybe it’s easier for her, too. We don’t do emotions well.

I’m feeling immensely sad for the circumstance. I’m feeling sad that the full experience of being “out here” with my wife never occurred even during our marriage and especially now during our divorce.

I’m sorry my wife could not experience me or appreciate me as the man I am, as opposed to the man she wanted me to be. I could only fail at being that man.

This morning in the call with Werner Erhard one of the many things he said was you can’t have a life if you’re stuck with trying to figure out the meaning of your life. It has no meaning. Life is inherently meaningless. Things just are the way they are or the way they are not. Don’t ascribe meaning.

I get it.

This divorce has no meaning, and trying to figure out a meaning is meaningless. Oh, we can both ascribe some kind of meaning, or blame, or sadness—but it’s just the way it is. The world has given us an opportunity, an opportunity not to be figured out, or known now, or maybe never known. There’s not already an answer.

Where I go from here is all possibility. For me to be free to be and free to act. It’s up to me.

But now the days are short
I’m in the autumn of the year
And now I think of my life as vintage wine
From fine old kegs
From the brim to the dregs
And it poured sweet and clear
It was a very good year

 

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