Dear Mom: GOODBYE

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I had a beautifully disturbing realization this past week: I couldn’t remember the last time I talked to my mother. I really couldn’t. This realization was even more delicious because I was pretty sure that I hadn’t even THOUGHT about her for what seemed like several months. Not for a single second.

And why should I? Over the years this woman has been emotionally manipulative. She has hurled insults. She has literally THROWN things at people. She has belittled everyone that ever cared about her. And she has done it with an insatiable, uncontrolled rage. But I guess regular readers already know that.

LET ME BE CLEAR
Let me be clear about this. My mother is not a two-dimensional monster. I understand and respect the reasons why she acts the way she does. In fact, I actually love and admire her greatly. You guys have no idea what she has been through. She is one of the most courageous and intelligent people I know.

But I’ve come to the conclusion that I just don’t care anymore. I really don’t. I’m tired of feeling sorry for someone who is often only interested in making me miserable. I’m over trying to reach out to a person who is so emotionally damaged that they are incapable of sharing love. I’m sick of being yelled at. I’m done being the adult.

GOODBYE
I’ve decided to simplify my life once again. I’m basically not talking to my mother again. Ever.

I can’t express how happy this makes me feel. The happiness is reinforced by knowing that I am not doing this out of some sort of hurtful need to spite the woman who gave birth to me. I am simply doing something that will bring peace and tranquility to my life.

And yes, I’m aware that there are some practical impediments to this decision (family gatherings, calls initiated by her, etc…) but believe me, I’ve thought about them and they can all be overcome.

DISTANCE CAN BRING YOU PEACE
The bottom line is that sometimes distance may be your only option. If you are fortunate, you may be able to use that distance to find simple, peaceful understanding. Not only for yourself, but for those you love.

Tonight I feel completely free.

I'm Getting a Vasectomy

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Well, it's settled. I'm getting cut. I'm doing the old 'snip, snip'. My little swimmers will soon be no more.

I'm getting a vasectomy.

DIFFICULT DECISION

I have to admit that the decision was harder than I thought it would be. And I'm not even referring to the realities of the medical procedure.

When I first considered this option I didn't really see a coherent argument against it. None of the arguments I came across (“what if you find a person you love who wants kids;” “what if you change your mind;” “not having kids is selfish;” etc...) were really all that persuasive given my motives, my preferences and my own internal ethics.

And then something happened. I'm not sure how I can even describe it. Let's just say that I suddenly felt a twinge of existential guilt. It was almost as if the universe itself could somehow get pissed if I voluntarily eschewed a fundamental imperative shared by all living things. As much as I tried to shake it off I couldn't help but think that by getting a vasectomy I would be committing a crime against nature itself.

And then, just as suddenly, I found a solution to my dilemma that made sense to me. Why not make a bargain with the universe for the right to get a vasectomy? Surely I could offer the universe something more valuable than the chance to nurture a brood of future bike-riding, nature-loving, list-focused, sex-crazed Jacks.

JACK'S BARGAIN WITH THE UNIVERSE

Dear Universe,

I'm sure you know by now that I'm all about getting a vasectomy. Before you say anything, you should know that I've always been a very big fan and I really, really don't want to piss you off. That is why I want to make you this proposal:

let me have my vasectomy and, in exchange, I commit to spending a certain amount of time and energy every year having a direct, positive impact on children's issues. I'm also going to allocate a certain amount of money in my personal budget to help children in some way.

Now, I know I haven't quite figured out how this is going to work, but I want you to know that I am committed to this.

So, what do you think? FYI, I might make an appointment sometime next week so let me know ASAP.

Take care,

Jack

Jack as Santa: Merry X-mas!

That's right my dear reader. That is an actual photo of me waiting patiently by an elevator right before walking into a family X-mas party to play the part of Santa.

And how did it go you ask? Well, let's just say that (1) the right-hand side of my beard started falling off as soon as I walked into the apartment, and (2) Santa had to walk barefoot because otherwise it would have been obvious he was wearing jeans and flip flops. But all was well...not sure the 3 and 4-year-olds noticed a thing...

Merry X-mass everyone!

Snuggling in Bed With Dracula

So, I get to this small village called Villeta right around 7 pm. It's already dark and I am absolutely wiped. The heat on the road has been almost unbearable and the day's elevation change totaled close to 1,800 meters (>5,700 feet). By the time I stumble into my motel room I'm a bit delirious. I immediately strip naked, run into the shower and let the cool water wash away all the grime and dirt I've picked up from the day's ride. I dry off and collapse on the bed face down, naked and exhausted. The room in pitch black.

By this point, there is a part of me that is absolutely starving and wants to go out to forage for food, but there is also an equally demanding part of me that says that what I really need is a good night's sleep. It is in this fog of indecision that I first hear what I can only describe as chirping or crackling right above my bed. At first, I'm not even sure the sound I am hearing is real. I am sort of going in and out of consciousness and the chirping/crackling is being drowned out by the sounds of salsa floating up from a couple of bars right below the motel.

And then, it happens. Twenty minutes later, still lying on my chest, butt-cheeks up in the air, in the pitch blackness of a Colombian motel room, something suddenly falls on my back. SMACK! CHIRP, CHIRP, CRACKLE, CRACKLE! I jump 10 feet in the air and reach for the light. Fifteen seconds later I record the following video. My apologies for erasing my 10-year-old girl screams.





POSTSCRIPT
Those of you who follow me via Twitter and Facebook know that after my initial bat-induced heart attack I decided to rent a separate room for the night. I didn't want to alert management because I feared they would just kill the poor critter. I had left the window open hoping that it would scamper out into the night. But I just didn't have the energy to move all of my stuff into the new room.

This morning I went back to the scene of the crime. At first it looked like my plan worked. I cautiously went through all of my things, one at a time. Everything checked out all right, until I looked inside my bike helmet. It's hard to see in this video, but believe me, it's in there.

Dancing Update

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It has been a relaxing couple of weeks. Nothing like some sun and more than just a few beers to relax the mind and reenergize the spirit.

Now that I´m back from vacation, I can now turn to several things that have been bugging me recently. Top of my list is how I´m doing on the dance floor.

Frankly, this whole learning how to dance thing is not going well. I JUST DON’T GET RHYTHM. Let me rephrase…I can generally hear the rhythm in a piece of music and can even clap the rhythm out for a bit. But I´m screwed when it comes to applying rhythm on the dance floor. You have no idea how stressful my lessons have become. I feel bad that I´m not advancing as fast as I should be. I am constantly apologizing to my teacher for taking so long to get the basics. I am always watching the clock, hoping that the hour passes as quickly as possible. In short, I´m really not having any fun.

But, hey, nothing worthwhile is ever easy. I´m going to take another shot at this thing with a new attitude. Maybe I´m putting too much stress on myself. The point, after all, IS to have some fun and learn the basics at my own pace. I´ll let you know how it goes.

On Getting a Vasectomy

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I'm seriously considering getting a vasectomy. Yeah, I know...

To voluntarily allow a sharp, pointy object anywhere near Jack Jr. ranks right up there with looking inside Jeffrey Dahmer's refrigerator. And yet, here I am, googling the procedure like mad, trying to understand my options.

The benefits are clear. As someone who doesn't want children, having a vasectomy would largely eliminate any nasty surprises going forward. Plus, it would be wonderful to have the freedom to make love to my partner without fumbling for a condom, or relying on their own contraception method.

There are definitely some drawbacks. First, a vasectomy is not a sure thing. But WHAT is ever a sure thing? Also, it's not a procedure that can be easily reversed. On the other hand, there is nothing stopping me from freezing a batch of little Jacks in case the love of a wonderful woman happens to change my mind.

I have a lot to think about...

Reflections (5): I Don't Want Children

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I don't want children. Period.

I've moved away from some ealier ambivalence on this issue. I think there is still a part of me that questions whether I could have the patience and commitment necessary to be a good parent. There is also a measure of selfishness in not wanting to place an irrevocable limitation on my finances and my personal life.

But what has completely transformed my thinking on this issue is a new-found understanding of what, specifically, I want out of life. There was a time when essential life decisions (education, career, love...) were clouded by social, cultural, and class expectations, by other people's opinions, and by perceived familial obligations. No longer.

Jack's new life paradigm is rather simple: (1) figure out what I need to secure long-term “happiness,” and (2) go out and find it. Anything that I don't consider an essential componet of this theoretical “happiness” is just not prioritized. And guess what? I just don't find child-rearing to be essential to my long-term happiness. After some soul searching I have come to the conclusion that I just don't have an overwhelming need to pass on my genes. I also don't believe that children are required to sustain meaningful love between two people. And, more importantly, I strongly suspect that the valuable lessons a person learns as a parent can be learned thorugh other endeavors.

This is not to say that I will NEVER have kids. It just means that having them is not a personal priority. I could see a situation in which I meet a person that becomes very important to me and who does prioritize child-rearing. At that point, a decision will have to be made that might very well change my life forever.

[Reflections introductory post]

Dear Mom: FUCK YOU

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RATIONAL JACK

Dear Mom,

I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something for a while now. I don’t know how else to start so let me just cut right to the chase:

I hate so many things about you Mom. I really do. I hate the fact that you feel entitled to criticize everyone in your life because they have chosen a different path from you. I hate your intolerance. I hate your inability to control your anger. I hate feeling sorry for you. I hate it when you do your best to make me feel guilty about the decisions I have made in my life and the kind of person I want to be. I hate it when you scream and yell things that are intended to hurt me. I hate your hypocrisy.

All my life, I’ve been walking on eggshells. I’ve been patient. I’ve swallowed insults. I’ve apologized unnecessarily in order to assuage your insecurities. I’ve spoken quietly, even as a crescendo of screams and accusations rained down on me and other people I love.

But no longer. From now on you will respect my opinions and decisions. You will talk to me in a calm, rational manner. You will accept me for who I am.

You will do all of these things or you will lose your only son.

IRRATIONAL JACK

Dear Mom,

Fuck you, you manipulative, angry bitch!

You think just because you are my mother you are entitled to treat me like shit? Let me let you in on a little secret you lonely, pathetic excuse for a human being…you are NOTHING. Let me repeat that: YOU. ARE. NOTHING! The saddest/funniest thing is that you have only yourself to blame. All your screaming and yelling, all your self-righteous bitterness, all your indignant intolerance has driven away your entire family. Including your only son.

Tell me? Does the thought that I will soon be traveling all over the world with nothing but the clothes on my back confuse you? Does the fact that I no longer give a shit about money, status or expensive “things” make you go bat shit? If so, GOOD. That makes me happy.

I have only one thing left to say to you:

Go fuck yourself.

Thoughts of Christmas

As Christmas comes upon us this week I can’t help but think about one particular Christmas that changed my life.

I had been living far from home for some time, trying my best to feel AND be lost to my family. Maybe there was a lot of anger inside me. Or maybe I just felt numb and preferred to ignore the fact that I actually had a family. Regardless, I was oblivious to their calls, mocked their emails and threw away their letters. “I’m living my own life,” I would say to myself. “I can take care of myself.”

And then something happened that tore my heart out. Suddenly, I was by myself, far from home and inconsolable. There were days during that period when my tears never stopped and my thoughts turned to dark places I never knew existed inside a person. I was ashamed. I was confused. I was alone.

Somewhere in the mist of all that darkness I realized that I could not make it alone. So I decided to come home for Christmas.

As I opened the door that Christmas eve I was greeted by the smell of a roast in the oven, a large Christmas tree in the living room and the warmth of my mother’s arms. “Don’t worry Jack,” she said to me. “You are now home. Everything is going to be ok.”

I’m not ashamed to say that I am crying as I write these words.

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Happy Holidays everyone.

On Family

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Boy, is this an awkward topic.

As I work to unhinge myself from a life that no longer makes sense to me I am becoming aware of all sorts of new possibilities and opportunities. On the other hand, I am also questioning a great deal of what I have been conditioned to believe constitutes happiness in the first place. In some ways, this is sort of inherent in this process of simplification. To question the need for a 3,000 square foot house, the virtue of becoming trapped in a lucrative but unfulfilling job and even the merits of living a lifestyle full of unmitigated excess is to question your own assumptions about the very nature of happiness itself. In all the ways that matter, the old paradigm is dead. In its place is an urgency to question all assumptions about what truly makes a person happy.

Which brings me to the third rail of the voluntary simplicity movement: do you need to have kids to find happiness? More to the point, is procreation a prerequisite to happiness?

DEVIATING FROM “NORMAL”

When I first went to law school I felt like I was following the path of least resistance. The steps were pretty clear to me: finish law school, get a job, get married, have kids, and live happily ever after. While I don’t think I had a very clear sense of why this seemed like the right path to take, in retrospect, this seemed like the right path precisely for the same reasons buying a huge house and coveting a high-paying, stressful job seems like the right path for so many other people. Our society conditions us to accept the “normal” path from the day we are born. To deviate from “normal” by choosing to forgo our right to procreation is to embrace the unknown and accept a life outside the mainstream. More importantly, choosing not to have children challenges the choices made by those who have found their own version of happiness in the realm of the “normal.”

This is not to say that there is anything inherently wrong with the “normal” path. Every day I surf my way through people’s blogs and I get a glimpse of what it would be like to have a family of my own. I won’t lie to you, my dear reader. There have been times when pictures of a family doing stuff together have left a heavy lump in my throat. I have seen myself in those pictures, holding something small and precious, something that can live on after I am gone.

BUT, IS HAVING KIDS REALLY FOR ME?

But, is having kids really for me? Believe it or not, there are a growing number of families that have chosen not to have kids in the first place. Some couples base their decision on ethical concerns (“having children only adds further stress to our natural resources…”); others don’t feel they will be good parents; still others see children as a threat to their financial and social independence (i.e., a child born today will cost a family anywhere from $130k to $260k).

All of these reasons resonate with me. The last two, in particular, brings up all sorts of conflicting emotions. I know that, at least for the foreseeable future, I would be a TERRIBLE father. I am still too selfish, too damaged, too quick to assuage my own needs at the expense of anyone, or anything else. Things are getting better every day, but this is a process that has to take its own deliberate course. I need time to heal. Right now, I just don’t have the time and/or energy for anything else.

I’m also weary of the strain having a family will have on my long-term plans. How can I travel the world when I have to be at home and do the responsible parent thing? How can I take months-long bike rides when there is a little one depending on my emotional and financial support at home? How can I embrace simplicity when the very act of becoming a parent seems anything but simple?

STOP YOUR WHINING, JACK!

“Stop your whining, Jack,” I tell myself. “Just be the best person you can and everything else will fall into place. In the end, you will know the answer.” That’s pretty good advice.

Call Follow-Up

I wanted to provide a brief follow-up to an earlier post about a conversation I had with my mom that did not go so well. During that very tense, unpleasant conversation I basically came clean about wanting to quit my job just so that I could pursue happiness on my own terms.

My mom and one of my sisters were in town this weekend. More than anything I wanted to see my mom so that we could come to some kind of detente. Nixon eventually visited China. The Soviet Union was all about perestroika for a while in the 80s. My hope last Friday was simple: if my mom and I could have an open, direct conversation about my Plan she would see the wisdom of my plans, she would be impressed by my maturity, and, more importantly, she would be inspired towards simplicity herself.

Well, so how did it go, you ask? Not so good. Jack was, as always, a victim of stupid, naïve, idealism. Following the format of my previous post, I wanted to share the following observations about our only face-to-face conversation:

Jack’s Mom Loves Him Dearly

“I love you Jack. You are a wonderful person and an even more wonderful son.”

Jack’s Mom is Set in Her Ways

“Back when I was young the focus was always to work all your life, take care of your kids and only relax after you retire. To do anything else is pretty much just being lazy. And I know you are not a lazy person.”

Jack Suspects That His Mom May Be a Bit Jealous of His Plan

“I mean, who decides to essentially retire before they are even 32? Look at me…I’ve gotten up at 6:00am every Mon through Friday for decades just to take care of my family. That’s the way life is. To do anything else is just plain weird.”

Jack Suspects That His Mom’s Ego May be Involved

“What am I going to tell your family? What about all my friends? What am I going to tell them? That my only son, the son who graduated from Ivy League Law School X, who makes $X a year wants to give it all up just to be a bum? Because that is precisely what you will be Jack, a bum.”

BOTTOM LINE

The bottom line is that nothing was really resolved; my mom still thinks that I'm absolutely nuts ala "who are you and what have you done with my son.” I may never be able to make her understand what this process means to me or how much I value this new life I am slowly crafting for myself. But you know what? I don’t care. I can’t care. She is in her late 50s and has lived her life in her own way. She is who she is, just as I am who I am or, at least, who I hope to be.

What matters to me at this point is that I am, indeed, determined to complete this journey. I am focused. My mind is resolved. My will is unshaken. My mind is strong. I am not giving in. I am not giving up. And to hell with anyone who stands in my way. Including my mom.

Last Night's Call

One thing you need to understand about me, my dear reader, is that I’ve never been all that close to my family. I had a pretty complicated upbringing: there were several marriages, separations, and divorces, all of which were sprinkled with the inevitable needs of multiple offspring; there were harsh words exchanged in front of children much too young to know the difference between love and desperation; most (worst?) of all, there was a sense of hopelessness that permeated the air of my youth. In the end, I thought the only thing I could do was flee so that I could one day breathe air that was pure and free. And so I did.

LAST NIGHT’S CALL
I got a call from my mom last night and all hell broke loose. I planned to have a conversation with her about the Plan sometime next year when things were rolling closer to fruition. But she called me last night with some questions that left me no choice but to spill the beans a little early. I didn’t quite mention the sale of the townhouse or getting rid of all my stuff. THAT might have given her a heart attack. But I did happen to mention that I would be leaving my job sometime next year. Here’s a little taste of what I was facing last night.

Jack is Inconsiderate
“Jack, what do you mean you are going to quit your job next year!??” Why didn’t you tell me about this before? How dare you keep things from me!? How dare you!”

Jack is Insane
“Who the fuck does that!? Are you insane!? Have you been to a doctor? Please tell me that you have been diagnosed with some sort of medical condition? Otherwise, who in their right mind would do such a thing. I mean, it’s crazy! How dare you!”

Jack is Selfish
“Why are you being so selfish!? Don’t you know that I will be retiring soon and the economy is going to shit? You need to think about what you will be doing to your family. How dare you!

Jack is Throwing His Life Away
“Have you thought about all the work you have put into your career? Think about all those nights studying for exams, all the money you spent to pay for school…all that sacrifice will be going down the drain if you do this! You are throwing your life away!! How dare you!”

DO I NOT HAVE THE RIGHT TO…?
I kept my cool during the call. I always do. I think it has something to do with the need to maintain control in the face of uncontrollable anger and rage. I guess my childhood was good for something.

But the call did prompt some soul-searching. I mean, seriously:

*Do I not have the right to leave a job that I find unfulfilling?

*Do I not have the right to make decisions about my own life, even if, ultimately, I find that I need to take a different path?

*Do I not have the right to try and be happy the best way I know how?