Lady-Apostle Crindeyes

If the Apostle Paul was right, then single people should be the ones leading spiritual communities.  And by single, I do not mean celibate in a repressive way.  (Case in point: the Catholic Church).  

Being "pure, in body and in spirit" means so much more than abstinence from sex.  It means remaining free from entanglements that detract from the pursuit of service and spiritual growth.

Lady Crindeyes has friends who pined away for marriage during their single years, finding purpose mostly through meeting their mate and having their "ministry" fueled by their marital status.  That is well and good.  But judgement should be withheld from those who influenced the world for the better--alone in terms of marital status, but certainly in good company with fellow warriors for just peace.

And yet, how many churches are led by the married, who have no actual experience of Jesus satisfying all the needs of the Bride of Christ--and by "all the needs," I mean the sexual ones too.  Relationships take a lot of work, and most married ministers are so occupied by the "cares of the world" that their spirituality (and take on sexuality) is practical in a way that lacks imagination.

If sex symbolizes (among other things) transcendence, then those who have had intercourse with the Divine would understand it best.  (See examples from the Catholic Church, yet again).

"I am saying this for your own good, not to restrict you, but that you may live in a right way in undivided devotion to the Lord." (Paul, supposedly, in 1 Corinthians 7:35)

Summer Lovin'

They call them the dog days of summer, the sultry span of time between July 3rd and August 11th.

Dear reader, we are still in them.  Time stands still, creativity brews but does not reveal itself.  

Last summer, one of you watched and rewatched Indian Summers on Amazon Prime, witnessing racial injustices on another continent, mixed in with an interracial love story, as a way to process the unrest and the quest for a match at home.  You longed for your own South Asian flame, who had gone MIA.

Phone calls were scheduled with friends across the country, everyone staying home to avoid virus and plague, whilst breathing the outdoor air, away from others, on staycation mode.  No one had any babies.

One of you met your match, a brilliant Ph.D teaching at an illustrious private school in Miami.  Sparks flew, and the sapiosexual side of you was stimulated enough through virtual FaceTime and conversation.

Others used local dating apps, now saturated with quality men, who were seeking true and earnest connections, and had no option but to do so virtually, as a first step towards meeting in person.

One of you had a masked date in the park, walking and talking and recognizing the lack of a spark.  

Another made it to the fifth FaceTime with someone you had decided not to reject, out of kindness.

This summer, one of you watches the Olympics and ponders career choices, wondering whether Simone Biles' decision to put her mental health above achievement is something of an anomaly, or a new norm.  You don't miss your slow burn from the previous year, who ultimately put his own ambition above you.

They don't call them the dog days of summer for nothing, for tensions build and rise, with no outlet.

Dear reader, we will make it through.  Breakthroughs will come, and a fresh wind will inspire, once again.

Is it Too Much to Ask

 Is it too much to ask for a work environment that does not only allow for self-care, but also encourages and rewards it?

I am a "woman with a career," not a career woman.  In my teen years, I decided that my health was not worth any achievement. 

Along the way, different work bosses have noted my "potential" and said phrases like, "One day, when you're in my position..."

And that would be the first time that possibility would cross my mind.  In other words, I never sought out achievement.

Except for two things: I wanted to go to Yale, and I wanted a Ph.D.  Not for any particular end goal, but for personal enrichment.

My life has been fully enriched by both the academic degrees I've pursued and the jobs that have pursued me.  I hope I'm wiser for it too.

Wisdom and intellectual insight are things that no one can ever take away from you, and they are gifts rather than accomplishments.

It is not too much to ask for what we need from our bosses.  It takes courage, and it takes a strong commitment to the gifts that wisdom has to offer.

Younger Men and Age Differences

I had a conversation with three co-workers, all in their 50s, about terms like "cougar" and "puma."  Peter said his wife was six months older than he was, and that they had married at 40.  He had not heard of the term "puma" as a distinction of a class of "older woman--but not by as much as a cougar."  Having been both, I knew.

Amy nodded viciously as I spoke of how fulfilling it was to meet like-minded men who were younger than I was--the first one was 6 months younger, and then I went younger and younger as the years went on (3, 6, and 9 years)--who were somehow raised in more progressive mindsets than my same-aged male peers.

I found that the way my brain operated naturally fit better with younger men.  It was thrilling. 

"But what about the maturity?  Aren't guys not really men until they are 40?" Peter inquired.

"I suppose that's why I'm with a 40-year-old now," I quipped.  "But I scratched that itch."

"Won't you miss it?" Amy wondered.

"Nothing will ever take away the kind of affirmation I gained when with those younger men," I realized aloud.  "Plus, my 40-year-old also doesn't quite seem to fit with his generation, so that makes two of us."

It was Friday afternoon at 4 pm.  We had let down our guards and were finishing paperwork for the week.  

"This was almost like a Happy Hour conversation," I noted, as we all resumed our work.

"Yes it was!" exclaimed Peter.  "And thanks for chatting.  Have you ever thought about starting a blog?"

And that, dear reader, was confirmation for Lady Crindeyes to keep writing her posts, silly as they might seem.

Sources

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Where does Lady Crindeyes get her notions and sources, you may wonder.  She listens to relationship podcasts and has done so for the past three years, ever since rejecting marriage for a Ph.D.  And, being one in whom friends tend to confide, she has anecdotes from half her life from which to test her theories.

Esther Perel, Karin Anderson Abrell, Abraham Hicks, Katherine Woodward Thomas, and experts on personality theories such as the Enneagram have fed her appetite for understanding the human condition and its effects on love, life, and love lives.  Sources abound, but the truth is often still elusive.

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Casual Internet browsing yields interesting reads.  Here, dear reader, are two sources from last night: 

20 Subtle Signs Your Marriage Won't Last

and

10 Pillars of a Strong Relationship

Enjoy!

Lady Crindeyes

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In cleaning out my desk drawer, I found an invitation to a baby shower from earlier in the spring.  Over the years, I have spent plenty of money on gift registries for my friends who were either getting married or having babies.  None of those friends have ever given me a gift--whether it be for Christmas, my birthday, or graduation (and I have had several graduations over the years).  I have gotten plenty of gifts over the years, but they were all from my single friends--or from men who loved, but did not marry--me.

Dear reader, what say you to this strange system our society has devised of acquiring a wishlist for gifts? First, one must announce the life stage that is dawning--marriage or motherhood--and then one goes onto the store or the internet to assemble a list of items that are required for this stage of marriage or motherhood.  Depending on their own financial situation, each friend contributes anywhere from $40-$100 towards the wishlist, ensuring one gets everything one wants.

Have you ever wondered why a new bride is not capable of purchasing her own lingerie?  After all, she will not be sharing the wedding night with her friends, nor will they ever speak of it again, after the shower.  New brides receive expensive kitchenware--and yet, I have never been invited to brunch or any other meal, nor even visited the new home of those who have had a wedding registry for household items.  

Lady Crindeyes is left both perplexed and put off by this rather self-celebrating and self-centered behavior.

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Dear reader,

When this author was in seminary, she noted that some men had kind eyes, and some had critical ones.  Her girlfriends would assess new friendships using the rubric of kind eyes and critical eyes.  And yet, there are times when being critical is a form of ultimate kindness, because it prevents blindness.  and that, dear reader, is what Lady Crindeyes seeks to do in her blog posts.  May her words ring true.

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In the olden days, love was about money and status.  Women married for protection and security, and their fathers and brothers paid a dowry to their new husbands, to ensure that they would be treated well.  Men married for a place in society, and sometimes for the money that a wife brought, acquired from her father.  

This, dear reader, is why we have inherited the custom of taking on a man's last name after marriage.  We transferred from being our father's property to becoming our husband's.  Going from Miss to Mrs. was a change in status, and more often than not, money, rather than actual love, was involved in the exchange.

Why then, must we continue to harp and hurry our single women over the notion of marriage as the next important milestone?  In colleges that have a "ring by spring" culture, is not the bachelor's degree the modern day equivalent of the accomplishments of sketching and sketching, from the olden days?

Although I could have had a Mrs. Degree by the time I was finished with college--as the first suitor came along my second week of freshman year, when I was but 17--this author went on to collect two Master's Degrees instead.  Her grandfather, rather than offering congratulations, warned her not to go further.

"Women with Ph.Ds will have trouble marrying!"

Interestingly, she eventually pursued a Ph.D, because marriage proved not to be worth the trouble.

Summer Satire

Inspired by Lady Whistledown from the Netflix series Bridgerton, I offer some musings.

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Am I the only one who sometimes thinks that married women should be the last people to offer relationship advice to the dating?  In the case of unhelpful advice, it seems that either they are blinded by relationships in which they settled, and offer advice out of their own unfulfillment, or they are happily married to the first lucky bloke to come along and know nothing of heartbreak and the loves that are not meant to last for a lifetime.  

I was once told by a woman struggling in her marriage, with regards to my boyfriend at the time: "You won't do any better than him.  Seize him now while you can."  

Perhaps her advice to me had more to do with her needs than mine, but I did wonder whether her words were more of a compliment to him or an insult to me.

Dear reader, that was 10 years ago, and that boyfriend has been settled with someone else, of whom perhaps it can be said, "You won't do any better than him."

So it turns out that my friend was right, in her own way--but only about him, and not about me.

😷

Rounds.  We finished them in 40 minutes today.  This is what happens when Dr. B runs the show.  Discharge, transfer, moving on.  Let's not mess with the flow.  After all, Friday is tomorrow and let's not fuck up our mood by getting bummed out by sick patients who may not get better.

In actuality, Dr. B is extremely personable and compassionate, and I have never met a physician with better bedside manner.  During a Code Blue, right after the patient passed away, she knelt in front of the newly widowed spouse, who had collapsed onto a chair, offering condolences.

People are simultaneously complex and simple, and people in healthcare are no different.  Dr. B is my age, and I have heard her speak with other nursing staff about the guy interested in hanging out on her days off, and her recognition that she also does not need him.

She does her job efficiently and well, the ICU staff respect her leadership.  As a short and young-looking Asian/Indian-American woman, her competency becomes her authority.  

During rounds, we speak of patients as if they are merely cases.  And when we visit them in person, we treat them as such--fully human.

So, dear reader, those 40 minutes are well-spent--and they help us know that we're doing just fine.

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A co-worker, married, told me today, that the order of happiest persons ranks thus:

1. Unmarried women

2. Married men

3. Unmarried men

4. Married women

This explains why times with my previous chaplain cohort and my group of seminary friends were the happiest in my life.  We consisted of unmarried women and married men--equal, safe, and unattached.

The relational dynamics in those groups were such that we accomplished what is usually impossible, given the society we have.  We were true teammates, and we touched the wider community deeply.

So, as I use this list to reflect on how things turned out for my ex-boyfriend and for myself, it seems that we have each found as much happiness as humans possible.  Unhelpful advice notwithstanding.