The Pursuit of Happiness
I recently read an article espousing the joys of celibacy. My first thought: What bloody joys?
I read on, and learned that now there are more people than ever who claim to be "happily" single.
This description annoyed me. It seemed oxymoronic.
Being single certainly has advantages. And yes, you can get used to it. But it's not an ideal state of affairs. I would say that "reluctantly single" is a more accurate description.
And I do think that there is a common thread running through the lives of the reluctantly single:
They are used to their freedom. They don't want to get caught up in a relationship. But then they do crave sex - and a little tenderness. But just a little. Only on the weekends. And only on THEIR TERMS!
Unfortunately their terms don't suit anyone else's terms. Not for long, anyway. So they part as quickly as they find each other and return to being...reluctantly single.
So the cycle continues. They become serial monogamists. (And some find it so frustrating they become serial killers!)
Occasionally they are interviewed for articles on single-hood. And they all claim to be fantastically "happy" of course! (I know, I'm being cynical. The situation today is probably no worse than in an earlier, more conservative time. Then, there were as many people falsely claiming to be "happily" married.)
So, people are in a quandary nowadays. But there are some who find a kind of solution: They separate sex and love.
I went out with a woman like this. She was a phone sex performer.
I adored her. Yet our love-making always seemed so mechanical. See, she insisted on narrating everything:
"I'm sitting on my bed. I'm not wearing any clothes.
Now, I'm spreading my legs..."
"I know," I'd say. "I'm right here next to you!"
God, that pissed me off. Almost as much as the fact that she'd flick through magazines while we were doing it. Then there was the four bucks ninety per minute I had to pay for the privilege!
She had completely mastered the art of emotional detachment. So she wasn't unhappy. But she wasn't happy, either.
Clearly, it's difficult to find happiness in love, or in sex, or in separating the two.
So, where do you look?
They say that the happiest people are those who have renounced sex completely. Buddhist monks, for instance. I used to think these guys were faking it, and were utterly miserable. But I spoke to a Buddhist a while ago, and he seemed truly happy with his lot. (In fact, he seemed ecstatic. All through our meeting he kept cracking up. Then I discovered I had my fly undone. I hastily did it up. He stopped giggling then and went from ecstatic to merely elated.)
He explained that the Buddhist attitude was not to pursue satisfaction; simply to find it.
"So, I sate my appetites by not sating them?" I asked.
"You could say that," he said, beaming.
"Can this work with anything?"
"Yes, anything!"
I decided to try this with sex. But then I realized I wasn't getting any anyway. So I tried it with food instead.
Nearly died from malnutrition.
I tried to sue him. But those bloody Buddhists - they've got no assets!
Oh well, that's life - and love: Damned if you do. Damned if you don't. And damned if you can't make up your mind!
Still, it's pretty funny, don't you think?