Back around the end of January, D and I were discussing when we might see each other again. (This was after our Second Date, and before the Third Date had even been contemplated.) I knew I would have an upcoming trip in March – the one which ended up being our Fourth Date [no, I haven’t posted on it yet] – but the details hadn’t been worked out yet and I was trying to figure out if there were some way to squeeze in a side trip to see D. In the course of the discussion, she and I had the following exchange on truthfulness and lying. I include it because I think it adds an interesting layer to my previous meditations on the subject (in particular, here and here).
In a couple of earlier e-mails, D had gotten pretty impatient with me for not proposing some kind of plans sooner, and she had started to question whether I really wanted to see her all that much. For my part, I was just having trouble thinking of a plausible excuse. With that in mind, I wrote her:
In the discussion about our getting together, all I have said is that I have a hard time lying (although I am not worried about how I will react if Wife asks me [whether I am having an affair]....). If this were easy for me, I think you would have reason to wonder if I am who I say I am. If this were easy for me, you would be more likely to believe Wife's crazy stories about me, because you would think, "Well, he SAYS that story is not true, but I know he can lie very convincingly." As it is, you know that I am in general pretty bad at making up stories out of the whole cloth (especially with all the substantiating details), so when I give you my side of some harebrained tall tale that Wife has just told you, it is easy for you to decide which is true. For the most part, I think this is a good thing. The only downside is that it makes it inconvenient to make plans when I can't say openly “I want to go see D for a week.”
To this, D replied as follows:
Hosea, you can and you do lie. We all do. You are not comfortable with this idea because it doesn't fit the (flattering) picture you want to maintain about yourself, but we all engage in various degrees of deceit. I'm not cynical; rather, I'm intensely curious and interested in why we lie and what purpose lying holds for us. You are perfectly willing to lie when it serves the family well, for example, when you "listened" to Wife and Boyfriend 5's IM conversations to learn about their relationship. You go out of your way to keep your income from her, and you have made no effort to bring her fully into the financial workings of the family because you feel it's better if she remains in the dark. All of these decisions can be argued with, but that they demand a level of subterfuge is undeniable.
When you have a problem lying is when anything comes up that might mean a certain freedom and happiness for yourself. That's not a noble desire to avoid lying, that's a denial of your right to be happy, even for a day. Duty is a high priority, pleasure is not. I question that calculus on several grounds. First, I don't think it works, not forever. Our relationship is inconceivable if you did not, on some level, understand that living without love was sad and undesirable...and not necessary (I can be arrogant at times, but I have no illusions about myself as unique in recognizing you have just about every quality any woman would want; if I was not in the picture, someone else would be there soon). Second, just exactly what do you think you are teaching the boys about love and marriage? Do you really think they haven't figured out that you and Wife have long ago abandoned any genuine love for one another? Her brutal and appalling comments about you in front of the children to me are evidence hard to argue. They need to see real love, and they need to know that men and women can love, passionately and completely. To pretend anything else is also a lie, and nearly unforgivable. [These last two sentences actually puzzled me, because I’m not sure what she is talking about or how she thinks the boys are going to “see” this “real love.” What, between me and D? That’s really not the plan.]
If you told Wife you wanted to stay overnight in [Big City] to view a museum exhibit, or to listen to a lecture, or [see the famous sights there], she could have nothing to say after years of sacrifice and self denial on your part for her. That you agonize over this possibility has nothing to do with lying and everything to do with the value you place on yourself. If she guesses that you will not be alone...she says she doesn't care. Wife has been with several men, in your home, with no regard for your feelings. If she imagines that you might be enjoying yourself with someone else, she has only herself to blame.
One extra day after a week or more of being gone will make no difference in her condition. If you need to arrange transportation for the boys, then you need to do that, whether or not you see me. Again, this isn't about Wife’s frail health, which must be managed, or about your reluctance to lie. It's about your despair over whether you can claim any happiness for yourself apart from fatherhood. The answer is yes. Whether you see that opportunity, or chose to exercise it, is very much your decision. But let's be clear on the decision that must be made, and it's not one about lies.
Ogham Readings on Saturdays
1 day ago
5 comments:
As usual, D's comments (and your own) make great reading. Any of us who have engaged in or seriously considered infidelity will appreciate the inherent pragmatism. And there is something revolutionary about being able to say that "I have a right to happy" or at least to pursue happiness. Because much of mankind's social fabric throughout history has been predicated upon the "right" of a few to gain happiness by making up rules to oppress (i.e. take away the happiness of) the many.
Well, I digress. But D makes her points very well.
Apollo is right that D seems to be showing a lot of wisdom here (as usual).
I personally found this line:
It's about your despair over whether you can claim any happiness for yourself apart from fatherhood.
resonated with me and my own life rather strongly. The question of duty -- where it begins and end, and what it demands of us -- really does hover over our heads sometimes, no?
Hoodie captured what I wanted to say much better than I did.
I am reminded of poor Frederic in Gilbert & Sullivan's Pirates of Penzance (subtitled "The Slave of Duty").
You and D always have such interesting ethical or philosophical debates.
But I will admit that I am perplexed by the seemingly contradictory posts in this series, as interesting as they are.
Originally you were supposing that wife's lies, small as they might be, were contaminating her soul. Then you made a point about Boyfriend 5 lying, but added the tidbit about wife's lies to her mother and how it showed that one day she would lie to you.
Now you find yourself on the other side of lying and I can see that you would be internally conflicted on the matter. And yet D seems to think it's not really about lying. Isn't it though?
On the one hand, if you go by your own standards you are contaminating your soul. You also can assume that D will lie to you since she has admitted little internal conflict.
But, on the other hand, I must say that I agree with D and disagree with your own opinions in the earlier posts. I think lying can only contaminate your soul if you let it. As long as you are not lying to yourself and feel little guilt for the lies (because they are justified because the end result is happiness for you and you deserve happiness), then I don't believe your soul is contaminated and 'dies' as you suggested.
Further, you cannot assume that someone who lies to another person will inevitably lie to you, especially when the person is lying to their mother!
Everyone lies. It's whether you are sticking with your own moral code in doing so and what harm is inflicted on the person to whom you are lying that are the key factors.
Just my two cents.
Or maybe it is as simple as this: D just wants to see you and is using her obviously brilliant mind to convince you to lie to wife so that you can see each other.
Apollo and hoodie -- Gosh, just this evening I found myself humming "Oh better far to live and die / Under the brave black flag I fly ...." while making dinner, and when I log in again I find you referencing the Pirates of Penzance. I love it. You know, in general I find myself suspicious of any kind of claim of a positive "right to be happy"; I think it is wise, for instance, that Jefferson in the Declaration writes only about a right to "the pursuit of happiness." And I am reasonably certain that I would have trouble being happy if I were soundly persuaded that I had abandoned important duties. But what is a lot less clear to me is where exactly the boundaries of those duties lie; how much do I owe, and how much is just over the top? I don't have a settled answer to this, and I find D's challenge provocative. (I mean intellectually provocative; there are other sides of her that are provocative in other ways.) That is part of why I post what I say and what she says without always wrapping them up in a tidy conclusion.
Kyra -- Ahhh, my dear, if I had an answer to questions like this, then I would be truly wise instead of just loving wisdom. I am just as perplexed as you are. And that is exactly why I started writing this blog in the first place ... because I have learned over time that one of the best ways for me to get clarity about something is to try to explain it to others.
Of course when I started, I was trying to understand what made Wife tick at some level. I thought I was completely clear on issues of truth and falsehood. Now that I have been writing and probing for a while, I have learned some interim things about what makes Wife tick, but I have also found that questions like truth-vs-falsehood aren't nearly as easy as I had always thought. So I share the confusion, and am trying to find my way through it. I suppose this means, among other things, that you can't assume any opinion I express here will turn out to be my final one.
As for how to resolve this particular conundrum, I'm not quite sure. Your very last paragraph is one that had occurred to me a while ago. :-) But I also think that some of my earlier positions may have been overstated. I do think there is a risk of some of the things I talked about earlier, but the connection between cause and effect may not be absolutely mechanical.
I will also confess that I sometimes wonder whether talking about a "personal moral code" might not be more or less like talking about a "personal Law of Gravity," but that is a whole different discussion and maybe one for another time.
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