Black Oak's Daughter

Minime moved back home a few weekends ago. She’s done a lot since she’s been home. Her room is set up the way she wants, all the kid stuff is mostly gone.  She had a temp job and probably a couple of offers for full time positions coming. She’s been out rollerblading almost every day trying to get back into shape after 4 years of crap food and parties at college. She’s already lost almost 10 pounds. She’s doing a lot of things right, she has grown up in many ways. I’m pretty proud of her for that. 

The one thing that hasn’t changed, is that it hasn’t sunk in yet that this isn’t the home that she left.  The place where things were always in a state of disorder, and chaos was the norm.  Where everything was left where it was used and no respect was shown to the other people in the house and no thought was given that the next person that came along would have to deal with the mess before they could do what they needed to.  That was the norm with my ex here. He had no respect. It was useless to try and teach her that cleaning up after herself was courteous to others when 1. the place was never clean and 2. ex belitttled her for everything she did, it wasn’t ever good enough.

 The result of that environment is that when either of us, me or roomie, tries to tell her how it is here now, and what the procedures are, she gets very defensive. Her conditioned response (see Pavlov) is that she’s always on the defense when anyone tries to suggest something. She can’t stand instructions because it means that she didn’t do it right in the first place (ex in her head), not that there might be a ‘different’ way or “here let me show you this shortcut”.  She did quite a bit to help out around the house the weekend before last, and Roomie complemented her on each task and how well it was done.  She’s been praised but she doesn’t remember that, all she feels is attacked because that’s what she reacts too still.

There’s nothing that I can do to change the past. There’s nothing that I can do to change her response to me.  All I can do is live now. My life has changed so much since she left.

For the last 4+ years I’ve been friends with a man that has had a profound impact on my life. For the better part of the last year, I’ve lived with him.  He has lived a truly wondrous, remarkable life, and his outlook is equally as remarkable. He has been through so many things in the last few years that would leave lesser men defeated, but he doesn’t allow that attitude in his life. That inner strength is a lot of what draws me to him.  He has respect, deep down respect, for all things.  He is a man of honor in the Asian sense. Honor is everything there. His integrity is obvious. He has taught me how to live by setting the example and living that way himself.  His standards, for himself and for others that he chooses to be close to, are high. They are very similar to the ones that I grew up with as a young child.  There is also joy in his heart that nothing can touch. He’s quick to smile. He has a faith that is unshakable. I could go on and on. I respect him, I admire him. I’m also not a fool. He has a couple of faults too, but not many, and part of loving who he is means accepting the rough edges along with the beautiful heart. It’s easy to do with him. He honors me with his friendship, as I hope my friendship honors him.  

The day he moved in, this place began getting better.  We adapted pretty easily to each other. We have almost silently come to agreement on how to live in peace together and with love in our hearts. In many ways we commune together. Things just make sense now. There is order where there was chaos.  We also do things for each other.  Small things, but they don’t go unnoticed by either of us.   The point is that we aren’t in it for ourselves here. We flow together in a way that is beautiful. There’s nothing to be gained by any of the manipulation or passive agressiveness that used to be in my life.  That’s part of my past that I’m glad to leave behind. There’s no honor in that behavior.  He and I are family. That’s what it feels like. The difference is that you can’t choose family.  I chose him, and for whatever reason, he chose me.  We’re here for whatever time we spend together,  appreciating life, enjoying the company, and building a home where we can both live in peace and harmony. Living that way is profoundly beautiful at a very basic level.  Our relationship could very easily evolve into something beautiful  on a physical level, but it hasn’t yet.  Many people assume that it has and to be quite honest, I wouldn’t mind a bit if it did, but if it’s meant to happen it will. I’m not rushing that. I hold back a bit because we both have our own issues that we’re working on independently of each other. We both came out of devistating relationships and joined our lives in friendship while we’re both rebuilding and healing ourselves. I hold back to protect that friendship. I don’t want to lose it by pushing for something that I don’t think I’m ready for yet.

When he moved here, the one thing that boggled me at first, was that with everything he did, left the place better than it was. Think about that. Someone comes into your run down messy house, and everything he does brightens a small corner of it. It was a major life lesson for me. That it’s very easy to leave something in better condition than you found it. The converse of that is also true. Leaving the place a mess is also a choice.  He and I, independently of each other, choose not to do that. It was a very conscious decision for me, after 12 years of living with someone that had much lower standards, I had to form new habits. The cool part now is, that  the better part of a year later, the whole place is in better condition, and it happened one little corner at a time and both of us contributed to that.

I spent a couple of years visiting roomie at his house before he sold it and moved here.  It was truly a beautiful place, inside and out. At first glance it looked like one of those showcase houses. It was big and open, and through his remarkable life he had collected so many beautiful and unusual things that were properly displayed. I was overwhelmed the first time I saw it.  It was foreign to me that a man could live alone, and have such a beautiful home.  Most guys that I knew up to then, had to gather everything they could just to pick their socks up from the floor, and here’s my future roomie living in a house where peace flowed like oxygen.  He is through and through a proud American, but having spent so much time overseas, his house was decidedly Asian, as well, as I’d come to learn, is his sense of honor and respect. That mindset is his nature.  He’s peaceful. He’s also one of the most law abiding people that I know. His high standards come from within, they are not falsely represented. That just is what he is. 

I wish I had learned to live this way when I was younger. My later childhood consisted mostly of surviving. The standards were different. There were high standards at home while dad was around, the house was beautiful. Mom always kept the place clean, in spite of 3 kids doing their best to mess it up.  Then dad died and mom was sick, and we just got through that decade with whatever we could and improvised the rest. I lost the standards that dad taught. I wouldn’t have married my ex if I had kept the standard of living that my early childhood had. He grew up in a place where there were no standards, and I adapted to his standard of living much more than he ever adapted to mine.  Minime would have thrived on living well too. It’s harder to get things through to her now, but learning life lessons as an adult is possible. I do it all the time. This is one of those lessons that I hope she gets. 

When she moved home she was told that there would be rules and rent. She reads this, so I’ll now impart rule #1 of living with mom and roomie.

1.  Leave things as good or better than they were when you found them.

There are all kinds of little things that I could list here, like closing cabinets and drawers,  wiping up crumbs on the counter, never leaving dirty dishes in the sink, wiping down and closing the clothes washer and dryer when finished.  These are petty little things that have to be outlined to children because they don’t know any better.  She’s old enough to know better, so the underlying principle that I want her to realize is to basically stop living on automatic pilot, open your eyes, look at how you find things, and leave them equal or better.

It’s a matter of conscious living. Noticing the environment. It’s a matter of self respect and respect for others. Leaving a mess affects the next person that needs to use that space.  Keeping it clean means that you’ll always have a clean place for yourself too. Everyone contributes equally to keeping the place livable, respectful, and welcoming to those that live here and to those that visit.  It is the essence of communal living. We are three adults living here now. In a commune, if someone doesn’t carry their share of the load, they are shunned. It’s not fair to expect the benefits of that kind of life without contributing to the effort. If something needs to be done, do it. If something nice, like a cake, is to be shared, share it. Learn from each other, care about each other, overlook other’s shortcomings and work together for the benefit of all.  Nothing is hidden. There’s no need for secrecy, or covert behavior. Live in peace, with love, and respect. That’s what I have grown my home to be.

There’s a rule that hikers understand well.  Leave the environment as you found it, disturb it as little as possible so that it remains beautiful, and so that nothing is changed for the native inhabitants.  If more people applied that rule to living in their own houses, there would be a lot more peace and understanding in the world.

It’s a standard of living that minime would do well to adapt both at home and in her work life. People are geniunely impressed when you improve something that wasn’t expected of you. It’s how I’ve gotten where I am in my professional life. I am well respected at work. Now, after years of living with no standards,  I’ve relearned to use those same skills at home too, and it just feels right.

This is how life should be. It only took me 40 years to get here.  What a beautiful journey.

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