5/19/2008

on wolves, coyotes and gentle men

Just finished reading Amy Irvine's memoir, Trespass. It's a well-wrought story of a Jack-Mormon woman's relationship to the land, in the style of Terry Tempest Williams. One of the threads in the story is about her relationship with Herb, a SUWA lawyer that she dubs the "lion man." Late in the book she shifts his identity from lion to coyote. She writes [note that she's speaking about a picture of the two of them near Lake Powell]:
"Herb, as usual, looks invincible. In this particular instance, it is as if the recessive climactic conditions that threaten the region [of Southern Utah]--combined with the stresses in our life--only strengthened his resolve to flourish.
Now as I stand in the home he has built, it is the photo that helps me grasp that he is not a lion an at all. He is pure Coyote--decadent, passionate, and possessing an inherent tendency to thrive in the worst of times.
But there's more. He has his arms around me in a desperate sort of way--as if he's trying to uphold my burgeoning mass [note: Amy is pregnant]. What strike me now, in thinking about the photo, is how he falls into anything that resembles the work of a savior--that this is how he gets duped into trying to hold the entire world in his hands...It's not wonder that he feels so at home in Deseret--where God and biology are in perfect agreement that men and Canis latrans should take as much territory as possible. But, for all his sparkles and grins in that one photographic moment, his eyes are dark and resigned. It is the glimmer of resentment. The part that blames me for his hind legs' getting caught in the snares of convention and duty. This part is his in our troubled equation...
His response was that of any trapped creature: to chew his paw off and run" (341-342).
This section of Amy's book made me think of a poem that I posted way back in the early days of this blog, speaking about John and GameBoy:

There are Men Too Gentle to Live Among Wolves

There are men too gentle to live among wolves
Who prey upon them with IBM eyes
And sell their hearts and guts for martinis at noon.
There are men too gentle for a savage world
Who dream instead of snow and children and Halloween
And wonder if the leaves will change their color soon.

There are men too gentle to live among wolves
Who anoint them for burial with greedy claws
And murder them for a merchant's profit and gain.
There are men too gentle for a corporate world
Who dream instead of Easter eggs and fragrant grass
And pause to hear the distant whistle of a train.

There are men too gentle to live among wolves
Who devour them with apetite and search
For other men to prey upon and suck their childhood dry.
There are men too gentle for an accountant's world
Who dream instead of Easter eggs and fragrant grass
And search for beauty in the mystery of the sky.

There are men too gentle to live among wolves
Who toss them like a lost and wounded dove
Such gentle men are lonely in a merchant's world
Unless they have a gentle one to love.
-James Kavanaugh

I think this is a tough world for most men. They are taught to repress emotion and/or are encouraged to act tough or even violently, even as they hunger for intimacy. At the same time, in our culture, they are shuttled into the role of breadwinner or provider. The burden of this makes it difficult for them not to play up to the men with the IBM eyes or the wolves of the corporate world. There seems so little space for men to play, to express creativity, to choose a profession that's a passion rather than a "responsible choice."

For many years I've been dependent on John to bring home the bacon, to provide health insurance, and to make my life (and our children's lives) comfortable materially. It's a huge burden that is not without emotional and physical cost. I am often unsurprised when I hear stories from friends of their husband's mid-life crises. It's no wonder that so many men "chew [their] paw off and run" to a place where they can live a fleeting fantasy for awhile.

Yes I realize that part of being an adult is doing things we don't enjoy too much. The slogging mundanity of daily household chores, the endless errands that are required to keep a family outfitted and fed, the days of busywork at a job that depletes one's soul. And I wonder, why does it have to be this way? And how can I remove myself and my beloved from this madness? How can we create a space to live and to thrive even as middle-class corporate America seems destined to suck the life right out of us? Where is the oasis in this desert? Where is the Innisfree where "peace comes dropping slow"?

Your thoughts?

5 comments:

SoCalSingleMama said...

As I've struggled with coming to terms with my own place in the adult world of providing for myself and my family (current and future) at the cost of doing something I don't love, I've realized two things:

1) The pulls of supply and demand dictate that an economic community functions best when people do what they are best (i.e., most efficient) at, not what they love the most. Those who are best at the thing they love the most are either incredibly lucky, or are willing to be patient and put in the significant amount of time that may be required to become the best at what they love the most. Immediate demands often make it very difficult - if not impossible - to wait to have what we love the most be what we are best at.

2) If one truly wants to put in the work and time necessary to practice until what we love is what we are the best at, it is usually necessary to make choices that limit immediate demands. A simple example is the pursuit of a PhD. Perhaps you can choose between having a couple of kids, traveling all over the world, acquiring lots of assets, or becoming an expert at the subject you love the most through the PhD.

I see my participation in the rat race of Orange County as a fairly direct result of the difficulty I have limiting immediate wants that drive my immediate needs. I'm one of those lucky Planet Earth citizens who has never had to worry about having shelter, food, or clean water. So, my struggle is not to keep myself alive but to divide my time between worthy needs and wants without driving myself insane with busy-ness.

My husband would sum all of these ramblings up by telling me that the oasis in the corporate desert is the art of the word "No". As in, find more things to say no to.

Yikes, this response turned out quite long. "Your thoughts?" was a broad question! :-)

angryyoungwoman said...

That poem was really beautiful. You have such blasted good taste!

Caroline said...

I think you guys have done a good job of finding that oasis. After doing the SAHM thing, you're pursuing something you love, and John has chosen to leave the rat race behind to some extent by working somewhere where he can take classes and have decent hours to spend time with the kids. It's probably not perfect, but I think you guys have a better balance than a lot of people.

I was just talking to Mike about the pressure put on men in our world and in our religion. It's funny - he doesn't resent it. He doesn't have a problem with the idea that he's supposed to bring home the bacon. I don't know why exactly, but I think part of it is that he doesn't want the converse - to be a stay at home parent.

My optimal oasis is part time working at something fulfilling and part time parenting. I've been lucky to have that the last few years. But I recognize that that's not very realistic for some people who need benefits.

FoxyJ said...

Right now in our ward a number of my friends have husbands who are graduating and moving on to careers. My husband is graduating too, but he's found a part-time job to work from home so he can be more available for the kids this fall when I start my PhD. We've gotten a wide variety of reactions to this from people we know; it's interesting how many people seem bothered by the fact that we aren't following a more linear, progressive path. And I do feel somewhat jealous of my friends that are moving on to having stable jobs, homes with yards, and health insurance. We've been married for 6 1/2 years and spent that whole time with one or both of us in school and juggling a few part-time jobs. Ideally we would like something where we both work part-time, or possibly even something more full-time with a flexible schedule, especially as the kids get older and start school. Some of my dear friends include a couple that teach at BYU. They have six kids and homeschool several of them; he teaches MWF and she teaches TTH. They often take their kids on research trips or to conferences, and their whole family feels like a part of the department. My husband and I both feel like, for us, our family is most important. And my husband is a gentle soul. He'd much rather braid hair or make Halloween costumes than join the rat race. Anyways, I'm rambling. I would be curious to find out how many Mormon men feel trapped by their role as provider. My impression is that not very many actually do; most of the couples I know feel very happy with their role division.

jana said...

JG:
Your spouse's musing about the art of saying 'no' hit me as profound. Thank you for that. And I wish I knew what I was most efficient at--I think I gravitate towards those things that I'm not necessarily very efficient at at all!

angry:
This poem was part of a packet given to us by some friends when we married. They gave us a whole stack of thoughts and quotes. Many of them are now favorites.

FoxyJ:
I did a bit of math (John correct me if I'm wrong here), and for the last 18 years of our togetherness, only two of them one of us hasn't been in school full or part-time. That's kinda sobering. Is there a 12-step for this academic addiction? (j/k)
:)
good luck with grad school, btw! I hope you'll continue to write about your academic ventures on your blog!