Endings

I've been thinking a lot about endings recently.  Part of it is the season--one year is making way for another.  Part of it is the news that a friend's 4 and a half year partnership has ended.  I've also had a few chance meetings with people who belong to my "prior life"--the two years I spent in a Christian seminary, struggling to fight off lesbian temptations.  And, on a more abstract level, I've been reading Process Theology, which describes the essence of life as flux, and past moments as being incarnate in the present.  For Process, it seems like endings are a mirage.

But what are endings for the spiritual life?  And as gay and lesbians move towards marriage equality, what ethic will we develop for ending relationships?

From a spiritual perspective, there are two opposing tendencies: overemphasize continuity or focus on discontinuity.  We all need to have a narrative that makes sense of our life, and if one period is at odds with another, we have choices for making interpretations.

As I've moved from Reformed Presbyterian Christian to Unitarian Universalist, I can look for parts of my personality which seem to be the same throughout (focus on philosophy/theology, homo-affectionate orientation, little experience of a divine presence).  Doing this reassures me despite the change in beliefs, which seems external to the "me" I experience.  But it makes me wonder why I was convinced of Christianity's "truth" (or if I ever was).

So I can take an alternate approach, and emphasize how I was previously depressed, angry, isolated from outside influences, repressing my personality, and so on.  It's a good explanation for why I was "fooled", and it frees me of any leftover blame or guilt for the mistake.

Of course, how we respond to an ending has much to do with how the ending took place.  The instances I have to draw upon are the result of my own decisions.  While I was excommunicated, it was after I wrote a letter to the elders of my church to inform them of my perspective.  I have the dubious honor of never being dumped, but always being the dumpee.  This means that I have to work harder to bring unity out of these changes of heart and mind.  Someone who has been rejected by a lover or a church may feel more solace in distinguishing those times in their life as "another chapter" or simply "a mistake."

From the perspective that I'm coming to acquire, through a combination of Buddhist teaching and general study in philosophy, I have serious doubt that there is one single viewpoint from which to judge a "narrative."  The viewpoint within which we are standing is always moving, which means that the "me" from which I have experiences now is different than the "me" from which I had experiences a few moments ago, or will later.  Even the cells in our body are being replaced.  They commit little suicides, sometimes to make way for new ones, sometimes not.  That doesn't mean that my experience of myself, through memory and perception, doesn't seem to be unitary.  Nor does it mean that you would look at me today, after not having seen me for a week, and ask to be introduced.  We do treat each other as unitary individuals enduring through time.

When a relationship commits apoptosis, whether to make way for another or for a period of singleness, what happens to the individuals which previously comprised the couple?  Though it's a cliche to use phrases like "I'll always carry a part of him with me", cliches are based in common experience.  The question for gay and lesbian individuals, especially as marriage rights are on the move, is how we'll prepare for the end of relationships.

There's no universal law which means that marriages or partnerships should last until death.  At least, not in the way that gravity works.  If I drop a pencil and it doesn't fall to the ground, something is seriously wrong (or I'm orbiting the earth).  If I marry my partner and we part ways, it is up to her and I whether we consider it an event worthy of guilt.

It's something worth considering beforehand, however, since our emotions and personal narratives are highly influenced by society.  We can easily believe our relationship was a failure, one representing the failure of LGBT equality everywhere and the oppression of heterosexual hegemony.  Or we can point the finger at ourselves, and our internalized homophobia, or lack of self-realization, or what-have-you.

The assessment of those factors may be quite accurate--but if you haven't decided at the outset that your relationship is forever, then why bring shame onto yourself unnecessarily?

I'm sure you're asking, "Who goes into a long-term relationship expecting it to end?"  Probably very few people.  But how many of us have expected our spiritual beliefs or religious alliances to change radically?  Some of us remain within the same religious affiliation throughout our spiritual evolution, just as some of us remain within the same partnership throughout our lives.  I hope to remain partnered with the same woman for another twenty years or more.  Still, I've thought through what might be (for my ethical viewpoint) a legitimate reason for ending a relationship and what actions I expect of myself to try to maintain it.

Though we ask for legal rights equal to the heterosexual institution of marriage, we cannot expect society at large to think through these questions for us.  Though we owe a great deal to the rise of feminism and the struggles associated with gaining wider divorce rights, the history of heterosexual marriage (as conservatives constantly remind us) is out ours.  Forging a public policy of gay marriage (and divorce) begins with thoughtful consideration of what our relationships are about, individually, and building a dialogue within our community.

Comments

[Kathi]

What role models do we have? Most of our parents are divorced and we have commitment problems. Our relationships our barely tolerated and we "move in" together and set up house after 2 weeks of dating. Yes, you are right, we need to look at our relationships differently than we ever have. Now financial legal responsibilies are coming with the package of "marriage". Maybe we will start taking life a little more seriously. I certainly have. I've taken the marriage leap in Canada and have never been happier. Finding an emotionally and spiritually healty person to share my life with has been the key. Good luck to all in our newest endeavour of "gay Marriage".

[ck]

Kathi,
You're right--and even those of us with parents whose marriages have endured through time don't have the same kind of role models that are gay or lesbian.

There are unique relational issues within same-sex marriages, as you probably know, combined with the economic and cultural pressures, which make the questions harder. (Even identifying them!)

Best of luck in your marriage--I hope that you can join the new generation of role models that is emerging.