I am currently on a holiday in Whistler, British Columbia. Getting here has been a harrowing experience. I won’t bore you with all the granular details but because of circumstances out of my control, I arrived yesterday when I was actually supposed to arrive on Monday. Flying is the fucking worst.
But I’m here now, reunited with the wife. I don’t think I realize how much I missed her, how much she makes me whole, how easy and loving our connection can be. I am appreciative of that. Where would I be without her? In many ways I’d be fine, just like I was fine before we met, living a bachelor New York City lifestyle. That lifestyle had a lot going for it. But it was also a lonely life.
I think much of the progress I’ve made in the last 5 years with regard to my practice, my writing, my health has been because of her love if I was to be completely honest. I’m not sure I’ll share this all with her lol, because I don’t want to give her a big head.
Other thoughts rumblings going through my head on vacation. I’ve had recent vacillations with regard to having children. My emotions, my biological urges tell me to have a child, that I will love it. But the other voice in my head is saying different. It is a distinctly antinatalist view. I have been asking myself the honest question: if I had had a choice, would I have been born? I honestly don’t know. It’s not like I’m even depressed when I say that. But to be born means to suffer. It means loss. It means dying. It means anxiety and depression. It is so hard, sometimes. And it’s not even really clear if all this suffering means anything. It’s a lot.
Obviously, this view stinks of negativity bias. This ignores all the pleasures life can afford. Just yesterday I went to this badass outdoor spa, which was just incredible. And last night we had some champagne and great cheeses and talked and danced a little. If I wasn’t alive I wouldn’t have got to experience any of that.
But I think I see so many people in pain in therapy. And I think I am far more in touch with my fragility and pain than I have ever been. I am far more aware of the fleeting nature of everything, how there is nothing to hold on to. And it’s often scary. Do I really want to put another being through that even if I will love that child to death? Is it worth doing?
I have no idea, to be honest. Maybe the wife and I could just live our lives and do what we love and move forward. Maybe we can travel and hang out and have a dog, and just live. That sounds really nice to me. I already feel like my life is meaningful as hell with my work and writing and my relationships. So who knows what we will decide…
Anyway, I plan to keep writing on my vacation, just as a record of what I was feeling during it. I’ll probably write here tomorrow or the next day.