Chaos and Compromise

I was born into chaos.

My few baby photos show an unassuming, scrunchy faced infant, who almost looks like she knows what she's beginning, and isn't particularly keen on it.  Then she's plonked unceremoniously on to the Life Rollercoaster, told (more or less) to hang on because it's going to be a fairly uncomfortable bumpy ride, at least for the first couple of decades or so.  After that, it will become whatever she makes it into.

I met my antithesis on the weekend, at a tiny, very unassuming country hamlet called Imbil.  My partner and I, along with another couple, were sitting in the little town rotunda, which all those types of places seem to have on their middle nature strip through the main street, and the boys were scoffing down big doughy egg and bacon rolls from the one town cafe.  We were at the tail end of a group camping trip which we'd enjoyed creekside of this little town, when what was clearly one of the "locals" came wandering over to our cosy rotunda, for no good reason other than to, in my mind anyway, show me the flip side of who I am.  One which I could never be, even if I were willing.

She was an older lady,  shapeless in the way old women who aren't overweight are prone to be, and wore some type of faded old lady dress which was tied around the middle to define a complete lack of waistline.  The true privilege of the elderly, this not having a waistline business, and recklessly accentuating it nonetheless.  A parcel of fish n chips that was past its prime, but would still be enjoyed by perhaps her husband, her family and her sewing circle, but probably not by anyone else.  I guess that covers the town population in any event.

She proudly informed us, not that we'd asked, that she had lived in the town since moving there in 1948.  Her husband was 84 years old.  And she knew everything about this town, which by my reckoning such information would have taken roughly 30 minutes to glean in its entirety.  I didn't say so however.  I just listened in the bored yet fascinated way one does when running across an antithesis to oneself.  Because I couldn't stay anywhere longer than about five minutes, I couldn't stay married, in fact I struggled to stay attached to anything, anyone or anywhere.  And after listening to her prattle on for a few minutes, I promptly detached myself from that rotunda (snickers all round) and headed back to camp.

But I, as I said, was born into chaos.  And while I won't say that chaos follows me everywhere I go, I am pretty adept at creating it, both for myself and for those around me.  I've had years of practice after all.

I do find that many seem to thrive on the chaos I provide, however.  They certainly don't go running screaming for the hills.  In fact a friend once remarked to me that she was astounded by the sheer loyalty I inspired amongst my partners, and ex-partners for that matter.  She couldn't understand it, and truthfully sometimes neither can I.  I just believe there is an inner excitement addiction gene that inhabits us all, it's just that some people let it run amok, some let it out for a cautious sniff around if the conditions are just right, and some, like Miss Imbil 1948, keep it firmly tied around the middle.

How does one channel inner chaos and unrest into the Sea of Tranquility, I pondered to myself, and more than once.  A friend asked me today why I find relationships so hard.  The answer to that?  I don't know how to compromise.  Myself.  Away.  Enough.  To keep a relationship going.

Interesting concept, that.  So ideally, one would be able to just compromise, live and cohabitate in a reasonable state of happiness with a partner, where said partner would do the same, and you'd always have that instant friend/ally/cohort by your side, in all matters social, financial, sickness, health and all that, including of course those all important Golden Years we aspire to reach some day, sort of soonish now.  Thereby staving off the big bad demon called Loneliness.  That particular demon is a fearful proposition.  Most of us have met him, don't want to hang out with him, in fact will compromise almost anything to not have to do so again.  Gets me back to the compromise bit of this piece.

Compromise – Myself.  Does this mean when our behaviours, hopes, dreams, finances, whatever are in direct conflict with the other party's, that mine have to be compromised in order for a relationship to survive as an operational entity?  What if the other person doesn't compromise themselves to the same degree?  Do we meet in the middle, or is it 70/30 or what?  What is the acceptable criteria here, of losing oneself as a single entity, but hopefully to attain something better, ostensibly a Relationship?

Compromise – Myself Away.  This I guess is perhaps beyond the 30/70 split, where most or all of what I want and believe in is being shoved out the door, wallpapered over, ignored, forgotten, in the aim of nurturing that ultimate goal, The Relationship.  This is often where I seem to end up.  I can only surmise it's to do with the chaotic beginnings where in fact there was no compromise at all, because where there is no power, there is nothing to bargain with.  Sort of makes you want to hang onto your own power later on in life with a bit of a death grip, methinks.  Which would explain some of the problems I face as an adult when trying to do the Compromiso Tango… my steps are skewed!

Compromise – Myself Away Enough.  How much would enough be?  Does it entail giving up or at least postponing some (or heaven forbid all) of your dreams?  Does it mean tolerating behaviours that you yourself would not dream of inflicting on others, but which does not necessarily mean the other person isn't engaging in towards you, or in fact the rest of the world might be as well, rendering you perhaps weird and unpartnerable in your minority of being?  Maybe they didn't compromise enough either though, is what I'm thinking.  And how much is enough anyway!  I'm thinking if you survive in a relationship, you have clearly compromised enough to be there.

So the whole object of this compromising exercise is to keep the ol' relationship going.  Ticking along.  Without compromise, one party is powerful and the other is powerless, to a greater or lesser degree.  The aim of course is to share equal power.  I know of few relationships that are based on this premise; it seems to be one powerful partner and one less powerful, but whose needs are powerful enough to cause them to remain in that position, compromised away, so to speak.  Perhaps the rewards of relationship go to the tolerant and the patient, the selfless and the compassionate.  I must not contain enough of those gems.

But what would I know?

(to be continued…)