Many divorced families will be spending the holidays in complicated arrangements and since joining the statistics, i have discovered that when i google world statistics i found that there is a state called Palestine but not Israel, according to a website claiming to be divorce science, apparently the site had divorced Israel as a state, and so much for objective scientific data..
I digressed from the topic, which inspired me to write after having read this insightful article by love expert swiss philosopher and tribe member Alain de Botton .
Alain seems to be able to take complicated issues and break them down to digestible bits; at a price of perhaps over simplifying complex matters but also making complex ideas accessible to all.
Holiday season are particularly annoying to divorced families; this year i have learned that once again my ex husband dictated the schedule as if i or the older religion and the faith of the Christmas baby did not exist;
The first night of Chanuka will be spent at a Christmas dinner at the home of the father of the children, as if and my holiday did not exist, and the next nights would be spent commuting to the paternal grandparents who live near by, and have ignored my existence ever since i filed for divorce.
The Swiss judge and the system argued that the children are also non-Jewish, not a fact that is recognised by the Jewish religion, but a fact that is adopted by fascist state that is the number one on the ADL antisemitism scale in western Europe.
Can i change the Swiss mind set that my children must be familiar with the dominant religion?
Can i argue with the swiss claiming to be seeking religious neutrality in their ruling that Moslem women many not wear a head scarf while working in a public place such as a supermarket but the central square of the town hosts the “not so religious neutral ” Christmas scene of baby jesus with the farm animals by the public library.
The Swiss are particularly good at making laws and rules that suit their life style without any consideration to minority groups and since the jews are 0.01% of the population, 18,000 souls that do not particularly gather together to protest anything, on the contrary they embrace their host land and outdo the swiss in being conservative and not friendly to anyone exhibiting swiss life mannerism such as materialistic , nihilistic acceptance of the majority rule of the flag with the cross; because the minorities may emigrate if they do not like it, as the Swiss stated when banning jewish and moslem slaughter, 150 years ago, just around the time they began to change the rule not allowing jews into the large Swiss cities .
As a nonconformist, i am not about to conform to rules and to again hit my head against the closed door of the Swiss mind; the former family in law does not mind assimilating my children into a country to which they had emigrated in hopes of realising their materialistic dream of becoming penny pinching non gift giving scrooges who non the less celebrate christmas their way by denying other people their holidays; the best way to make your enemy angry is to let them win and so the in laws will host the children and feed them for one or two nights their humble pies and i will be free to read and write my blog encouraging people of divorced families to win by losing, to not fight or argue over the children, but to place your Moses upon the Nile.
Fortunately for me, and my children, i might add, two role models stand as beacons to light my way through the dark and painful path of parenting alone ;
- Solomon’s trial: the story of a dispute between two women over a baby led the wisest of men, king Solomon , to call for a decision to divide the baby to two parts, the real mother then gives up the struggle and allows the other mother to have the child, this has been my choice too.
- Yoga studies: Yoga teaches us to be humble above all and not to succumb to the call of the ego, this helps to learn that by not entering into an argument or a dispute , you win. while this was NOT possible when the children were young and had legal visits with the father, who was continually stepping over the limits and forcing his way ignoring my wishes, now that the children are grown , i allow them to make their own decisions, if Christmas with the fascist father is what they wish or are forced to wish, either way i lay low, finding new interests in reading interesting articles that increase my understanding , my insight into human behaviour and spread the knowledge, a much more satisfying occupation than arguing with Ego centered ethno centric people who are blind to other cultures and ways of life and like the website mentioned above, biased against ancient cultures because of reasons probably described in the article; subconscious motivations that evolve from a screwed up childhood where love and empathy were swept under the carpet of corrupt male white west European protestant dominance ; a role model for the white suprimicists ; i do not argue with the KKK either , if the children wish to participate in their cross burning on the metaphorical grass of our common ancient traditions; let them live and learn and burn, i refuse to participate in the battle for their souls, they will either see or not see the hypocrisy sooner or later, or maybe never, either way, i prefer to try to deepen my understanding into what motivated me to join hands with the cross burning KKK a.k.a. my former spouse; the explanation must come from my own mind, never seek to understanding someone else’s mind before you understand your own and the latter will probably occupy most of one’s time on earth, so focus on understanding your own motives if you wish to not repeat the past mistakes,if you must understand ONE person in this world, let it be yourself in order NOT to repeat the mistakes of the past.
Peace light and love
“IT’S one of the things we are most afraid might happen to us. We go to great lengths to avoid it. And yet we do it all the same: We marry the wrong person.
Partly, it’s because we have a bewildering array of problems that emerge when we try to get close to others. We seem normal only to those who don’t know us very well. In a wiser, more self-aware society than our own, a standard question on any early dinner date would be: “And how are you crazy?”
Perhaps we have a latent tendency to get furious when someone disagrees with us or can relax only when we are working; perhaps we’re tricky about intimacy after sex or clam up in response to humiliation. Nobody’s perfect. The problem is that before marriage, we rarely delve into our complexities. Whenever casual relationships threaten to reveal our flaws, we blame our partners and call it a day. As for our friends, they don’t care enough to do the hard work of enlightening us. One of the privileges of being on our own is therefore the sincere impression that we are really quite easy to live with.
Our partners are no more self-aware. Naturally, we make a stab at trying to understand them. We visit their families. We look at their photos, we meet their college friends. All this contributes to a sense that we’ve done our homework. We haven’t. Marriage ends up as a hopeful, generous, infinitely kind gamble taken by two people who don’t know yet who they are or who the other might be, binding themselves to a future they cannot conceive of and have carefully avoided investigating.
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trudds May 29, 2016
I asked the right person, she said no. So the hard part is over.
thatsoundedgood May 29, 2016
Monsieur de Boton, aren’t feelings thoughts unacknowledged? You seem to say something close when you say people sometimes have a hard time…
JS May 29, 2016
Very early on, my therapist of 8 years told me that we can never get enough love, that our capacity for love far exceeds what our partners,…
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For most of recorded history, people married for logical sorts of reasons: because her parcel of land adjoined yours, his family had a flourishing business, her father was the magistrate in town, there was a castle to keep up, or both sets of parents subscribed to the same interpretation of a holy text. And from such reasonable marriages, there flowed loneliness, infidelity, abuse, hardness of heart and screams heard through the nursery doors. The marriage of reason was not, in hindsight, reasonable at all; it was often expedient, narrow-minded, snobbish and exploitative. That is why what has replaced it — the marriage of feeling — has largely been spared the need to account for itself.
What matters in the marriage of feeling is that two people are drawn to each other by an overwhelming instinct and know in their hearts that it is right. Indeed, the more imprudent a marriage appears (perhaps it’s been only six months since they met; one of them has no job or both are barely out of their teens), the safer it can feel. Recklessness is taken as a counterweight to all the errors of reason, that catalyst of misery, that accountant’s demand. The prestige of instinct is the traumatized reaction against too many centuries of unreasonable reason.
But though we believe ourselves to be seeking happiness in marriage, it isn’t that simple. What we really seek is familiarity — which may well complicate any plans we might have had for happiness. We are looking to recreate, within our adult relationships, the feelings we knew so well in childhood. The love most of us will have tasted early on was often confused with other, more destructive dynamics: feelings of wanting to help an adult who was out of control, of being deprived of a parent’s warmth or scared of his anger, of not feeling secure enough to communicate our wishes. How logical, then, that we should as grown-ups find ourselves rejecting certain candidates for marriage not because they are wrong but because they are too right — too balanced, mature, understanding and reliable — given that in our hearts, such rightness feels foreign. We marry the wrong people because we don’t associate being loved with feeling happy.
We make mistakes, too, because we are so lonely. No one can be in an optimal frame of mind to choose a partner when remaining single feels unbearable. We have to be wholly at peace with the prospect of many years of solitude in order to be appropriately picky; otherwise, we risk loving no longer being single rather more than we love the partner who spared us that fate.
Finally, we marry to make a nice feeling permanent. We imagine that marriage will help us to bottle the joy we felt when the thought of proposing first came to us: Perhaps we were in Venice, on the lagoon, in a motorboat, with the evening sun throwing glitter across the sea, chatting about aspects of our souls no one ever seemed to have grasped before, with the prospect of dinner in a risotto place a little later. We married to make such sensations permanent but failed to see that there was no solid connection between these feelings and the institution of marriage.
Indeed, marriage tends decisively to move us onto another, very different and more administrative plane, which perhaps unfolds in a suburban house, with a long commute and maddening children who kill the passion from which they emerged. The only ingredient in common is the partner. And that might have been the wrong ingredient to bottle.
The good news is that it doesn’t matter if we find we have married the wrong person.
We mustn’t abandon him or her, only the founding Romantic idea upon which the Western understanding of marriage has been based the last 250 years: that a perfect being exists who can meet all our needs and satisfy our every yearning.
We need to swap the Romantic view for a tragic (and at points comedic) awareness that every human will frustrate, anger, annoy, madden and disappoint us — and we will (without any malice) do the same to them. There can be no end to our sense of emptiness and incompleteness. But none of this is unusual or grounds for divorce. Choosing whom to commit ourselves to is merely a case of identifying which particular variety of suffering we would most like to sacrifice ourselves for.
This philosophy of pessimism offers a solution to a lot of distress and agitation around marriage. It might sound odd, but pessimism relieves the excessive imaginative pressure that our romantic culture places upon marriage. The failure of one particular partner to save us from our grief and melancholy is not an argument against that person and no sign that a union deserves to fail or be upgraded.
The person who is best suited to us is not the person who shares our every taste (he or she doesn’t exist), but the person who can negotiate differences in taste intelligently — the person who is good at disagreement. Rather than some notional idea of perfect complementarity, it is the capacity to tolerate differences with generosity that is the true marker of the “not overly wrong” person. Compatibility is an achievement of love; it must not be its precondition.
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Romanticism has been unhelpful to us; it is a harsh philosophy. It has made a lot of what we go through in marriage seem exceptional and appalling. We end up lonely and convinced that our union, with its imperfections, is not “normal.” We should learn to accommodate ourselves to “wrongness,” striving always to adopt a more forgiving, humorous and kindly perspective on its multiple examples in ourselves and in our partners.
Alain de Botton (@alaindebotton) is the author of the novel “The Course of Love.”