Progress, 2

Last night, I learned that Wife has a lead on another place to rent – a house, actually, about the size of the one we are selling.  Son 2 was with her yesterday when she looked at it, and he reports back wonderful things.  It is large, spacious, airy, and light; the owners are completely re-doing it, putting in new appliances and a hardwood floor; and it comes with a gardener, to boot.  Also, to hear Wife tell it she seems to have made a good first impression – not normally her strong suit, these days.

Nothing has been signed yet, and of course it ain’t over till it’s over.  Anything can happen befor the ink dries on a contract.  But it sounds better for Wife than any of us had dared hope for.

I have to admit that it felt a little funny listening to Son 2 go on and on about this place, especially when he finally asked “Why couldn’t you have found a place like that too?”  All this as I was driving him back to my apartment for the night: the apartment I got back in May that has two rooms (i.e., “1 bedroom”) plus kitchen and bath; and no appliances besides stove, oven, and refrigerator.  Clean, but not fancy.  And enough for what I need, but nothing more.

Silently I spent the drive reminding myself that this apartment is what I wanted, almost exactly.  I don’t want to have to look after a big house.  That’s part of why I am so glad to be selling ours.  There is something exciting about big houses, to be sure; and they inspire the admiration of others.  But for me it is borrowed enthusiasm – the enthusiasm that comes from knowing that other people think this is desirable.  In my heart of hearts, I myself don’t desire it.

And there are practical reasons, too.  My apartment is cheaper.  It’s also an hour closer to where I work; adding the price of gas there and back each day would make the real price of a big house Out There even higher than it already is.  Wife should be able to afford it if she is frugal in other areas, and if we come to a reasonable agreement on spousal support.  But my apartment is in a perfect location, and in any event I was in a bit of a hurry to find some place because I had already left the house.  You remember all that.

The meditation class I went to a few months ago taught one kind of meditation (called “Mudita”) that focusses on rejoicing selflessly in the good fortune of others.  If Wife really does get this mansion she hopes for, I will have a lot of opportunity to practise Mudita meditation.  There are parts of me that have been predicting her downfall or come-uppance with this separation, that have been looking forward to sneering as her bad attitudes and execrable social skills land her with nowhere to live and nobody willing to help her.  It looks like that won’t happen, and I have to remember to be happy.  It even benefits me for her to be well-off, because it means she will be easier to deal with during other parts of the separation.  So it will be a good thing for her to get a place she loves, that she can afford.  And it’s a good thing for me to be in the little place where I am, which is exactly the kind of little place I have always dreamed of.

In the biggest picture, all these things are true, not just platitudes.  But I do have to remind myself not to be small.