Completeness (1 of 3)

Well I've just seen another good (if not mindblowing) Oprah episode and I have to say that having seen Dr. Robin Smith on her show twice in the past week (talking first about debt and marriages and now about death and grieving) I think that Dr. Robin doesn't just blow Dr. Phil (who I don't like and won't link to on my blog) out of the water, but she actually says things that are really valuable. I believe I already quoted her on my blog, before, about what it means to be "private."

In her Lies at the Altar book she lays out the Top 10 Truths & Lies about marriage (and apparently at 2:45AM I'm prompted to adopt German capitalization rules?) and one of them is the following (not QUITE directly-quoted):

Lie: Getting married will make a person complete.
Truth: You cannot be partnered until you are whole.

I remember my first girlfriend at Columbia and how, during our first year together, the claustrophobia that threatened me by her even mentioning a relationship, let alone making me the target of romantic and sexual desire, made me realize a lot of valuable truths about myself (truths that it would take me another four years to actually cope with and help address).

I remember it as if watching it on video (you'll see the irony in what I told her in a minute) climbing through the levels of the Butler Library stacks with her and telling her how much I disagreed with her attempt to use Plato's writings on love to justify why it is that, in that time that I was coming to realize my problems and incompleteness, it was the perfect moment for me to be with her. She tried to argue that two people help complete each other. I argued, and it's funny that the argument should return, now, through a doctor I have seen on Oprah, that I totally disagreed, and that you cannot have a healthy and mutually-supportive love in which people grow and flourish unless both people are sufficiently complete and whole BEFORE and APART from the relationship; I even said (and I'm not kidding) that as much as I liked Plato, we should think about it more like Oprah -- I didn't want to sabotage or self-destruct, and I didn't want to bring her down with me. I needed to work on myself before I could work for us.

What's my point? That six years later I was vindicated by a motivational speaker on Oprah? No. Well actually, yeah ;) But that's not my ONLY point. My other point is that I want to say something briefly about the journey towards completeness.

To further complicate my already winding thoughts, while introducing an even lower brand of daytime tv, I remember the now-sacked Star Jones from The View making the unusually insightful comment that, for all the time she was waiting for the right man to come around, she herself was not the right woman. She was educated, successful, great on paper (if a bit thick through the waist), and expected for herself a total catch who would appreciate and adore her. The problem, she realized, was that she was not, yet, herself in control of all the attributes that would make her merit a person like that. Was she kind? Understanding? Discussive? LOVING? No. She was demanding and unqualified for Mr. Right.

I think (since this is my blog and it should be about me ;p) that that's basically where I was at between 21 and 23 (in other words: after my first evil Russian boyfriend and up until this past year). I had a lot to offer, but I wasn't really putting it all together, and I'm not sure I was ready to. I was not ready to be totally self-empowering (even if I could talk the talk and help others to walk it) -- my jealousy being a huge manifestation of that -- and I don't think I was prepared to make the lifelong commitment to being an emotionally-healthy person. Like getting over an addiction and having to say goodbye to your favourite substance, I had reached a kind of development impasse where I could articulate my problems, but had somehow accepted them as "me" rather than as "the parts of me I need to work on and get past in order to really engage my life in a full and fruitful way."

It has been a gradual process (and like all processes such as this, it's a process of becoming that doesn't have a clear beginning or end) by which I've had to draw from both devastating experiences and joyful ones, but (dare I say it), I think that I've recently, in the past seven months or so, taken absolutely enormous strides towards completeness. Of course, I'm not Jesus on Prozac, and I still make mistakes and I give-in to personal darknesses, but I think that the ways in which I think about and respond to my family, my environment, myself, and my romantic partner manifest this emotional growth spurt (which I'm trying frightfully hard to articulate rather unsuccessfully, here).

I was aware enough, before, of the kind of love I wanted, but I was not aware of what I needed to do to prepare myself to manufacture and receive it.

Knowing healthy v. unhealthy is big. I had that. Knowing how to embrace healthy and cope with unhealthy (which will always exist in most aspects of our lives in one manifestation or another) was a step I did not take until, I'd say, this past summer.

I'm too tired to write the other things I'd planned (hence the 1 of 3 in the title of this blog entry), but here's the preview of the VC Completeness series, lol:

Part I: VC's unsubstantiated and meandering introduction to (his own) completeness
Part II: VC's declaration of appreciation of the completeness of others
Part III: VC' tests for the presence of completeness

Well I need to rest-up before a visit to my brother and niece (both of whom I have not seen since Christmas 2004), tomorrow. I had a great diner with my mother, sister, and other niece, and hope that tomorrow will be as enjoyable (I think it will be).

VC