2009, the beginning

I woke up today and as I watched Simone sleep, paint still on her face from the New Year's party at the children's museum, I realized that 2009 will likely hold more for me than my tired mind can imagine, but no matter, it must ultimately be good. Not good in that I'll enjoy it, or even that the year will be a happy one. Good meaning that I will inevitably gain better insight into the world, that if I put this year to use, it may hold within it knowledge that could help me to better navigate my way. Or maybe it will hold a greater awareness so I can figure out when I am lost as I have been so often lately. I do have a hope for 2009, and it's actually a really really big one. One that puts a knot in my throat and a tear in my eye to contemplate.

I hope that I start to find my way again.

I hope to find some pieces of me. Pieces that I thought were lost forever or maybe that I questioned whether they ever really were me. I hope to find the 'new me' not just the 'different me' I'm so disappointed with. The true me. I also hope to accept the parts of me that feel so foreign today, and I dare to hope to take what is new, even if it is painful or hard, even if it will be misconstrued by others; and to use it to make my way. The 'new me' need not be a worst me, no matter how many times in 2008 I've thought so. It's a me without my beloved son, it's not the old me. And it will still likely be a me that smiles less, laughs less; but what I dare to hope is that eventually it will be a me that loves more deeply, understands more fully.

So I'm 28, and I've just begun. I've just begun. In 2008, I found myself a stranger, stripped of all I had built up for soo many years. I can't describe how unsettling that was. My house of cards came tumbling down, and I found myself lost. Foundationless. And damn. I almost didn't make it.

Thoreau said that not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves. I think many of us are lost, for most of us though, we don't even realize that we don't know where we're going or where we've been. It's not just being lost, it's knowing when you're lost.

So, I've survived, I'm surviving, today at least, and I must choose. Do I sit down, stay lost, do I wait for somebody to find me, or do I get up and find my own way? Will I find me in 2009? I don't think so. In fact, it may not be the year for me at all. hell, I may, in fact, search my whole life for me. But that doesn't mean the paths I take this year will not be worthwhile. Life is not just instrumentally valuable, it's not just made up of the things you tried and succeeded at. It's also made up of the things you put your heart into, and still ultimately failed at. Those things don't disappear, the ultimate failure is discounting all the love, and life, invested in something that was never and will never be realized.

The one thing I can walk away with, is that people fail. Everybody fails. I've failed. I will fail. But I've also succeeded. How will I define my world? By my epic fails, by my successes? I think we are all made up by both, but I think I'm going to focus on my success and, most importantly, instead of hiding from my mistakes, or not doing something because I'm petrified of failing, I think I'm just going to choose to fall flat on my face. Just like everyone does in life. I'm not going to be afraid, I'm not going to be complacent.

The fact is, I can wander down the path of life taking baby steps, hands grasping outstretched in front of me, like anyone, and maybe even 'succeed' in the eyes of others. But I'd much rather set forth on the path of life with an aim, even perhaps a foolish aim, like figuring out this world and how the heck I came to find myself in it. All with the knowledge I may never reach my goal, and that I will likely get turned around, misguided by myself or others, and never 'succeed'.

I just want to be able to say, before I die, hopefully when I'm old and gray:

"Somewhere, ages and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a wood
And I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference."

And the one person who I will have to thank, the only person, is my sweet son, Myles. Myles is my guide; the meaning in his life, the impact it has had on me, the love we shared, the lessons he has taught me and so many others. I will be true, I will be me, and will live well, only so long as I remember him and what he has meant to me, and will always continue to mean to me. He will be my closest companion through this life; and though I wish he were here, right now, nursing or holding my hand, he is here in my heart, and that part of me I know is true. So that's where I must start from. 2008 is the year lost, on every level, 2009, I dare hope, will be the beginning.

From atheism to what? Why do we hope?

I've posted about my previously unequivocal atheism, discussed my hope, read some Nietzche and Camus and I'm more confused than ever. What am I hoping for? Do animals hope? Is hope the same as anticipation? Like does a squirrel watch your food 'anticipating' or 'hoping' that you may drop it? When my dogs gather around my daughter when she eats, LOL, is it out of 'hope' or 'want', and what is the difference? I think I can safely say that 'want' and 'anticipation' are necessary for there to be hope, but they are certainly not sufficient.Is hope simply to sit back and yearn for something? Is hope a thought, or an action or both? I think, unlike 'want', that hope requires action, sacrifice. You have to play to win, in other words. As a PhD student, I'm obviously willing and able to withstand temporary short term discomfort (if you consider grad school short term and if 'discomfort' means a self inflicted torture) for a long term gain. So is hope just a simple account of economics? But not just economics, short term loss for long term gain? It's certainly not cause and effect, the long term gain is not certain. Not everyone who enters a PhD program will leave with their degree. We know that our actions to attain what we hope for merely increase the probability that we gain whatever it is. Is hope simply a gamble?

Do we only differentiate hope from want by the odds against us? When I buy a lottery ticket, there is a part of me that hopes I win, but I recognize it as a 'fools hope' because I know the odds. But as they say, if you don't play, you can't win. So hope requires you 'play'. It is an action, and it is a sacrifice, financial or other.

So far, I think I can say that hope requires want/desire, anticipation, action, sacrifice AND that the outcome is essentialliy probabilistic. But is that alone hope? I think we've found necessary components, but not yet sufficient components to describe hope.

Through the lens of pregnancy, all of this applies. Pregnancy is many instances of hope. But there is something more than just probablistic economics to it. First, with gambling, there are known odds, we know the likelihood of flipping heads 10 times in a row or getting a royal flush, they are easily calculable. We know that sometimes we'll win, and sometimes we'll lose, but we know in the aggregate exactly what proportion will win or lose with the same hand. Hope, in this scenario, is that one wins monetarily more than they invest. The difference between gambling and pregnancy, though is that the odds aren't as clear.

Basically, fertility, family planning, it is a gamble. As you ttc each month, you're playing to win, and the majority of couples are fertile, but that doesn't necessarily mean the month they 'try' they will get pregnant. We all know that part of it is up to chance. So many of us want to get pregnant, while some of us hope to get pregnant, depending on those odds. I've always 'wanted' to get pregnant by the way, I don't know if I ever hoped, mostly because I've never had infertility issues.
Once you have conceived, does it become a hope? Once again, I think it depends on the odds against you, are you 'high risk' etc. I think perhaps for everyone it becomes a hope because we don't know a lot about pregnancy and miscarriage. Many pregnancies end in miscarriage, the majority of those losses occur before 12 weeks. And then we make it to 23 or 24 weeks and we know that probability speaking, if we do have preterm labor, that our baby would have pretty favorable odds at survival. And as we near the end of pregnancy, as we make it to term, we've pretty much made it, but most of us know that there are no guarantees until our babies are safe in our arms. But still, as our odds of giving birth to a live healthy child increase to over 99% as we reach term, it's still essentially a hope. Why? Is it the unknown? Because when it's a card game and you're 99% likely to win, I don't think you 'hope' to win anymore. You expect it.

So perhaps, then, why I feel so betrayed and hopeless is because I was no longer hoping. I felt entitled, it was almost a certainty. And I did forget, especially that 37th week, that this was still a gamble that hadn't yet paid off. And now, perhaps I feel hopeless because I realize that essentially everything is a gamble. And to hope is to believe that you will win, even if the odds are against you.

So, back to the conundrum, can true atheists justify their hope at all?

"Hope is the worst of evils, for it prolongs the torments of man." -- Nietzsche
to be continued . . .

Goodbye 2007

Update: I found this quote this morning, it about sums it up. "Losing a parent is like losing the past, losing a child is like losing the future."

My whole world for the last month can be described by one word, ambivalence. I don't know what I want. I feel 20 emotions a day. Anyone who knows me knows there are very few positions in which I'm a 'fence rider'. I've always got my opinions firmly planted on one side or the other. I have even switched sides of the fence, but rarely do I teeter. On the issue of the new year, I'm stuck.

2007 is a conundrum. I think I could easily say, 'Fuck 2007, good riddance'. Part of me feels that way. You might expect I'd welcome a new year, a frest start, maybe something to get me back on my feet. But for some reason, it makes me so sad to say goodbye. Becuase although it was the year my son died, it was also the year my son was born. It was a year defined by my tenacity. My tenacity to finish up my course work, finish my comps, complete the survey for my dissertation. It was a year where I was forced (kicking and screaming) into complete pregnant submission. but I persevered, I even 'successfully' accomplished the goal of my bed rest. My son was 'born' term. When you put it all together, I was miserable, but I did so much. I had so many hopes come through even and I felt like I had so much to look forward to, and so much to be proud of.

2007 was the year of Hope. I had more hopes and dreams than ever before in my life. I'm no stranger to disappointed hopes. I've seen them crumble many times. But I've never questioned my ability to hope again afterwards (okay, maybe after the 2004 elections, something about 4 more years of Bush). But when Myles died, I've never seen my hopes and dreams so completely annhilated. The feeling of it was like watching those hopes, not just dashed to pieces; but beaten to a pulp, then ground into the dirt, then shit on. And much of my recent existential quandaries now revolve around even trying to justify the will to hope. Emotionally, I don't have it in anymore. Logically, I can't see a reason why I ever dared to hope in the first place given my beliefs.

Although I may appear a cynic, its always been my biggest con. I'm a poser. Deep down, I've always been a hopeful person, even to the point of naivete. If anyone asks, I say that I'm sure the worst will happen, but in my mind I always hold out hope for the best. I can think to so many moments in my life where I've been so filled with hope and excitement, it was like my heart could burst. And last year was filled to the brim with that heart-bursting hope. I just forced myself to believe that everything would work out, all would fall into place, and for so much of the year it really appeared it would.

So, saying goodbye to 2007 is quite a sad affair for me. I'm not just saying goodbye to my son again (which I went and did today, and I will continue to do for as long as it takes to set in). It's like I'm saying goodbye to that piece of me that dared to hope. It's like I'm saying goodbye to hope itself. I've already mourned so much, but now I mourn even for the New Year. I've always loved the New Year. So much more than xmas. Why? No, its not the drugs and parties you fucking smart alecs. It was that sense of hope! Hope that maybe, just maybe, the next year will be better than the last. And this year, I don't fucking have it. I feel like there is nothing for me in 2008.

This time last year, I dreamed of a child, sadly this year, that dream is still the same. But its defined more by fear and anxiety than excitement and hope. So anyway. Goodbye 2007. I wish you didn't have to go. But there are no do-overs or we'd all sign up, eh? It reminds me of a poem (yes another tear jerker, I'm so sorry I'm downer Debbie now, LOL):

If I could have a lifetime wish
A dream that would come true.
I would wish with all my heart for yesterday and you.
A thousand words can't bring you back;
I know because I've tried.
And neither will a million tears;
I know because I've cried.
You left behind my broken heart, and happy memories too,
but I never wanted memories,
I only wanted you.

Dead end.

One thing that has bothered me about all of this is how normal 'normal' is. As if I were never pregnant, never on bed rest, never had this dream of a child. And there is something deeply disturbing to me about just picking up where I left off. Because, honestly, where I left off, I was miserable. Myles was my savior. I had so many hopes wrapped up in him. And in so many ways I didn't know how he would change my life, what new dynamic he would bring to the mix, but I knew it would be radical and I knew it would be positive. And I fucking needed that change so much. And now it's like none of it ever happened.

You would think that my life would be easier now, pragmatically speaking. Babies are so much work, and four year olds are so much work, and dissertations are so much work, and the job hunt is so much work. But without Myles, doing all of those other things seems SO much harder, not easier. He was my inspiration. Knowing he would be here gave me so much hope, and so much energy, and so much excitement. Now I just feel hopeless. I feel like I need to reevaluate everything in my life, question everything, go back to the beginning. Because the only thing I do know, in my gut, is that I don't want anything to be the same as it was. I just don't want to pick it all back up again and stay on the same course. It's a disconcerting feeling, knowing you need to go somewhere but not even knowing where, let alone how to get there.

All I know is nothing is as it should be but everything is still the same.

Epiphany? No.

I wasn't looking for a religious epiphany from my experience with Myles, and I haven't had one. Having said that, it's 2am and for the first time in a long time I've started asking religious questions again. Not the really lame cliche religious questions that probably jump into some of your heads (Andrew!) but I've begun to look more deeply at my atheism from a philosophical point of view. Because it was in 2004-2005, right around the Presidential elections that I closed the book on all of that pondering and uncertainty. I embraced my atheism wholeheartedly and never looked back (except maybe to crack jokes). Good times. But part of me knows that closing that book was a reaction to the politics of the time. I was pretty bitter, and now that I think about it, perhaps what happened is I lost hope. So anyway, I haven't got it all figured out yet (I've all of the sudden got some big questions to chew on and some books to read), but do expect more long drawn out posts about my atheism alla Fall of 2006.

What I'm contemplating right now (yes at 2am on a Tuesday):

Does atheism=nihilism. I've never thought so, but I recently read an argument by John Haught that made me question it. The question is: can you be an atheist and justify hope for humanity? So, to any atheists out there who want to step up to the plate, are you nihilists? If not, why not? No, I'm not asking if atheists can be moral, most atheists I know have much more deeply held values than most christians (and certainly they are more just). The question isn't the can, its the why? And it's not the why, as in tell me about social justice. It's the why as in, what in your consciousness keeps you striving for those values? Why do you still hope and what are you hoping for?