Feeling trapped, freedom, and letting go

I awoke almost in tears this morning from an upsetting dream. In the dream, I was driving to work with my wife. I got confused in the heavy traffic, and we were almost in an accident. My wife was so frightened and enraged that she turned into my ex.As I lay in bed, trying to process what that dream might have been about, my eyes fell on a mounted poster that I've had for fifteen years. It's a print from a painting society exhibition in a tiny town in France. "Société Artistique de BEAUGENCY - 1988 - 20e Anniversaire". The print is of the winning painting, which I've always loved. I bought three copies of the print, and mounted one of them. I have the other two rolled up somewhere, to replace this one when it wears out. Number one has lasted me sixteen years and probably a dozen moves, and is in pretty good shape.The painting is in oil, in dull, almost drab, unsaturated grays and browns.The scene is from about two inches above the dashed white line in the middle of an asphalt country road, looking up into a sky full of gray and white clouds. Looks like rain. On the left, in the middle of the empty road, is an abandonded suitcase, sitting upright. In the middle of the scene, one end of a knotted rope lies beside the suitcase, and the rest of the rope ascends into the sky and disappears into the clouds.So the story is, someone was trudging along an empty road, carrying this somewhat battered old suitcase, when without explanation, a rope fell from the sky at his feet. Without hesitation, he simply put down the suitcase and climbed.To me, this painting has always been about freedom; about what freedom is. For most of my life, I've considered freedom to be about not being tied down by commitments. At any point, if something better comes along, I can drop that suitcase, take that opportunity, and climb into heaven. Trouble is, at the other end of that rope, seems like there's always just another suitcase. The great new job, turns into just having to go to work today, even if it's still "great". The relationship, whether it's going well or poorly, fills me with anxiety--yes, this is love, but is it love enough? What if someone else comes along and I realize I made a mistake? What if, instead of being married to an angel, I'm married to a suitcase?I think I see the error I've had in my thinking all of these years. I thought that freedom was about having options, and commitment was a problem because it cut down on options--so freedom and commitment are in tension. I think there's some truth in that, but it's only part of the truth.What I realized as I was looking at the painting this morning, is that it's also about letting go. As resistant to commitment as I've been in my life--in my career, in relationships, in consistently working on a skill--I also cling to the past. I feel regret over opportunities I lost because I didn't take on leadership and responsiblity in previous jobs to the extent I could have. I mourn some of the loves I had that I decided to not make permanent. All the suitcases I've put down, I continue to carry around, stubbornly. Makes climbing hard.In the past year, I've gotten married, changed careers, bought a new house, and moved, and now Zoe's on the way. If a baby isn't commitment, nothing is. Yet my wife, my career, my child, the mortgage--these commitments don't seem burdensome to me. They're not suitcases. Why? Because I've actively chosen them. Because each one of these things, in greater or smaller ways, are ropes that have fallen at my feet, and that I've grabbed onto and begun to climb. There's two things I have to remember. First, to let go. I can't climb a rope if I'm carrying half a dozen suitcases. And second, and most importantly, my commitments won't be burdensome if I keep choosing to be committed to them, and joy will come from that. So I'll keep climbing that rope, or, God willing, walking along that road with my wife and child. And eventually, I'll come to realize that the rope and the suitcase are the same thing.

Living for stuff

Sometimes it feels like I'm just living for stuff. Filed taxes today--had to pay $8000 because I sold a house last year. I owe C the amount of her refund, too. Fortunately, I'm getting enough back from not having filed in 2001-2 to pay for it all. But this morning: an half-hour in traffic. An hour in the bank to cash one check and get two bloody cashier's checks. Half hour in the car. Another hour looking for the Post Office at the Naval Hospital in Bethesda. (Damn hard to find.) Half hour in the post office. Errands, errands, errands. Dealing with stuff. What happened to living?Work was good when I finally got there. The new technical lead position is invigorating. I haven't been this excited about work since I got my first co-op job. But I don't know how to lead yet, exactly. Well, maybe I know some things. Like be clear about when I do and don't know something. Listen to the client. Listen to the people in my group. Persuade with good humor. Requests, complaints, and obstructive behavior have underlying reasons (though not always the apparent ones). Most of those reasons are about things I don't understand yet, and so I need to learn to understand them. Other times, I think I do understand them. If my understanding doesn't help me deal more effectively with the situation, then probably I'm wrong about what I think I know.Found an interesting Web site today: http://www.smartmarriages.com. Has a creepy "registered" symbol after the "smart marriages" name. But sounds like it's based on good research, based on a spot on This American Life (http://www.thislife.org). Social scientists have been quantifying communication styles, and now some claim they can predict which marriages will and will not make it. And teach people, in fairly short order (~10 hours of classes), how to communicate to improve their marriages. They claim a 50% decrease in divorce for their training. Of course, there's a selection effect there. I'm not too sure what the statistics are or mean. But these people clearly get that relationship is about relating, and want to teach people to relate. Looks like good work to me.Tonight C and I watched a great NOVA show, Life's Greatest Miracle, which you can actually watch on line if you missed it. I couldn't help wondering what happened to the zygotes and fetuses we were seeing on the show--or were they computer graphics? Some were clearly electron photomicrographs. I'd be interested to know what properties they use to do the false color (or do they just color them "by hand"?) But the Web site says "extraordinary microimagery", so I think we were seeing the real think. I said C and I watched the show--actually, I watched it, and C talked to her nanny, who doesn't look like she's going to come to help with the baby. She was on the phone for over half an hour, and came back just in time to see the delivery. Ouch. She's already having little "oh, no" moments about that, I think. Now it looks like the UTI's back. Thank God for doctors and strong antibiotics. Where will we be if those become ineffective?Iraq is scarier than ever. Junior was on the tube tonight, his third-ever prime-time press conference, after lounging in Crawford while the war he started goes to shit. I deliberately watched something else--what's the point in watching him stand there and lie?Heard a great comment on Wait Wait Don't Tell Me last week. One of the panel said they wished they could hear the 9/11 chief executive closed testimony, just so he could see the part where Junior talks while Cheney drinks a glass of water.