This continues to be a tough time, despite all the blessings I see around me. Why? Because of the gout that keeps me from walking? Or the emotional devastation from being surrounded by so much personal history? I sense, because I am asking myself to truly resolve my life, it is not a matter of simply patching, I want to rework everything. This pattern started in my school days forty years ago when I discovered I could feel a new man just by changing schools. Moving to art school in New York City as a teen confirmed this. I found a sense of self that I could not even imagine in my suburban youth.
There was to come moves to other States and countries, moves into new careers, new relationships, and new art projects, that are impossible to chronicle considering their frequency. The feeling of being born again was invigorating and propelled me to take risks and explore options. On the other hand, I now challenge the virtue in always starting from scratch. Perhaps I am just tired, but isn't there a way to choose those aspects of my life which are good and extract that which isn't, without starting over again?
Part of my inertia is knowing it would be hard for my children and, at the same time, I would be overtaxed financially and emotionally. I do not want to subject my family to that kind of revolution. Having a large house and a good income, with sizable holiday time, is difficult to replace quickly. More importantly kids do not really like change that undermines there sense of security. While I was changing as a boy and young man my childhood family home remained the same.
But change is effective. Perhaps the question really is, "Is fundamental change possible?" If it isn't, then moving on makes sense. If the only effective change is cosmetic than a fresh start might be very liberating. But if there is a way to truly change, then doing it where I am makes more sense. Okay, so that said, why hasn't it happened?
The confusion, deep confusion of losing someone integral to every aspect of your life, to suicide, and the feeling of failure, of a health system and world community unprepared to deal with the phenomena of depression... But far more deadly emotionally is my feeling of failure as father, husband, and friend... for not knowing. Not knowing what was happening or what it meant, or keeping it from happening. Comprehensive love should see and solve such problems.
All of this is behind me historically (two years now) yet any day will have an opening bringing tears. So much of me is shut down, tears signal progress, but the process is painfully too slow. Is this just a self-pity play to keep me from the hard work of transition? This summer should take me down enough memory lanes to allow me more freedom next year. I pray I don't remember this as a missed opportunity.
