Relationship as a Computation
Been slowly reading the first part of a newish book, The Lifebox, the Seashell and the Soul, by Rudy Rucker (he's got the first part of the book online here). It's light on philosophy and heavy on mathematical concepts, in my opinion, but that probably has something to do with the fact that I'm heavy on philosophy and light on mathematical concepts. It's sort of another version of 'everything is information', with what I think is an interesting twist: The notion that, though things may work according to finite rules (the physical laws o' the universe), the outcome, the 'final' result, can only be had by actually going through the computation. He uses pi as an example. We know how to get pi, through a pretty basic mathematic rule: Division. But to find out what the 17th million number of pi is, somebody (or something!) has to actually crunch the numbers.
And I wonder, not too deeply, how this applies to relationships, because I find myself thinking, "How could we have not known that things wouldn't work out--how could we not know ourselves well enough?"--and one reply is that there simply was no way to know until we tried it. This helps me, for some reason. Makes me think that 'going through the motions' can sometimes be the only thing you can do, and is 'only' going through the motions in retrospect, after you've done the computation.
Thursday, September 22, 2005
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11 comments:
Not so much, I think, not knowing yourself as not knowing the other person. Even if you've known someone for years before getting involved, there are things you won't find out about them until you are actually involved with them.
You also don't know how your problems and theirs will interact, which also might not come up until you are actually involved.
So, yes, going through the motions is sometimes required, and at least you know that you'll end up knowing yourself better by the end of it. Right? Well, that's what I keep telling myself, anyway. This round I seem to have gotten incredibly lucky - we've been together a year and a half and are still doing very well - but the last couple of relationships I had to work through because I really didn't know how they would turn out, and I didn't know some of the danger signals I do now.
I should get back to doing something useful now...
--Wendryn
More useful then helping me figure out life? What could that possibly be? Heh.
Well, you seem to say both that it's more about getting to know the other person (vs. knowing yourself) AND that you'll know yourself better at the end...I suppose it's a mix of the two, which is what I had in mind, sorta.
I agree that you get to know a person from getting involved with them romantically in a way you didn't know them before, no matter how long you knew them--but I think that it's also true that you learn things about yourself that you couldn't have learned without going through that stuff with them.
It's a happy thing that you've 'gotten lucky', though I suspect it's as much knowing yourself (and what you want--and the 'danger signals') as luck. Still, luck never hurt.
My longest, best relationships have been around two years...that seems to be the limit that somebody needs to get to know me well enough (or to get to know themselves well enough) to ditch me. That's my pessimistic/sad side talkin.
Eh, don't stress it. Short relationships are not necessarily a bad thing - you learned from them, clearly, and you are still learning as you sort through pieces. You learn faster than I do, apparently. I'm just a stubborn b**** - my first ever relationship lasted four years and only ended when he wouldn't get a job, and the second lasted six years and, had I been more clear about what I was dealing with, would not have lasted more than 1.
This one I met in choir (the agnostic and the atheist meeting in a church choir - how likely is that?) and became good friends before even thinking about anything else, and it is just working, calmly and happily. I've never been able to trust enough to talk seriously about the future, but with this one it comes easily to both of us. That's what I mean about luck - it was unexpected, not looked for, and unlikely, and it works.
I think getting back to what I love to do helped a lot - if we had met under any other circumstances I might not have been as open, but we were both there because we love the music.
Sorry, I seem to be rambling on your blog instead of mine...
stumbled across your blog via one jen/cheetah/nifer, and it's funny (not funny ha ha) because i'm at the point in a relationship where i see that we have to be apart right now so that we can follow our own inner guides, only problem is, all mine is saying is "hope you like a rocky ride because these emotions show no sign of letting up any time soon."
Wendryn--ramble away. One of the reasons I do this blog at all is the conversation that sometimes ensues, and your comments are always thought-provoking.
I agree that short relationships aren't necessarily a bad thing. Be nice to have just one that wasn't someday, though...altough I might count some of my friendships as relationship-y, and in that way, I do ok.
It's interesting that you're in a church choir--I really like gospel music, actually, though I hate the gospel.
J--thanks for stopping by.
I feel for you. Wish I had words of wisdom, though it sounds like you've got enough wisdom of yer own. It is a fucking ROCKY ride. But the emotions do let up--slowly but surely. It's a weird process. I'm at the point now where I still get very sad/angry at times, but I'm far enough along that I can sort of laugh at it, or at least shake my head in disbelief that one person can have meant so much to me...and I imagine someday I 'll get back to the place where I really know that having one person mean that much to me is a good thing. Not there yet, though.
I don't know much about your situation, though I can peice it together, strangely, through the trail of blogs that all lead back to Petunia/Cheetahfer, the center of all of our bloggy universes. From what I can guess, you probably are in for a Rocky ride, but you've got some friends to help you through it, which--in my case at least--can make all the difference.
i am the center of blogginess?
kinky.
Jen--
Well, you *were* the center of blogginess, but then you got all sorts of well-defined boundries and all that stuff...heh.
Remember when you didn't have a blog, and I did? All those year ago.
jeff-
yeah, the weird thing about my situation is that there are no well-defined boundaries whatsoever. it's like what happens in chile stays in chile and then it's over kinda thing. so now you know how all these blogs tie together.
ps are you in the hood (the cole valley hood, that is)
j--I tend to go for fluid boundries, but that's not quite the same thing as ill-defined. I think the whole 'it stays in chile' thing is probably one of the best ways to go, but not without its own troubles--because, really, when one journeys to another country, it would seem it's partly because one wants to be *changed* by the experience. So nothing just stays in chile, so to speak. Even knowing that, taking that attitude might be the best way to deal with stuff.
The thing is, regarding love right now, I'm obviously not objective at all, though I would direct ya (as I redirect myself constantly) to the emerson quote at the top of this blog....
J--I'm not of the valley, unless you count the Central Valley. :)
I'm not officially and Oaktown resident. Been here over a year now, so I think that's official. Y'all over there in 'Frisco are weirdos.
(I was told by a really interesting guy that I needed to stop calling SF 'the City' and start calling it 'Frisco, now that I've been in Oakland for a while. Why, I asked--well, he explained, because it pisses them off...)
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