Stand Guard over the Solitude of the Other
“I hold this to be the highest task of a bond between two people: that each should stand guard over the solitude of the other.”
A frosty, sunny morning and, as my husband had a week’s holidays, we decided we had the time to drive to a neighbourhood we are considering for our retirement years. Our retirement is still a few years off but we are feeling the pressure to do some planning. Many of our friends have made clear commitments to their futures but we are not long-range planners. We are good at beginning the discussion but tend to head off on tangents and then end up with no decisions made at all.
Arriving just after lunch, we drove through streets of homes we thought we could afford, near amenities on our checklist. My top priority is a walkable neighbourhood, ideally a village, in walking distance to a library, coffee shops and a grocery store. I want to be able to get on my bicycle and head off on safe, fairly flat terrain and be close to hiking trails that I can explore with my dog. I would prefer an older house with some character and a mature garden, so I don’t have to start from scratch. My husband needs close proximity to golf courses and a rugby pitch. He is easier to please when it comes to houses and would consider a gated community or a condo, both of which are non-negotiable for me at this time – but that may change as I get older. We both need proximity the ocean. We also love walking to a local pub filled with familiar faces and where the bartender asks if we want our regular – a pint of Fat Tug beer.
So, after visiting the neighbourhood we went in search of the local pub. The food wasn’t great but they did have Fat Tug on tap. The ambiance was exactly what we were looking for – an old- style pub without modern day renovations where everyone knew each other and they didn’t treat us like strangers.
As we sipped our beer we mused over how we imagined our future together. We plan to travel during the first few years of retirement. Our hope is to head off and rent an apartment or a house for 6 months of the year in some far off country – Spain, Italy, Vietnam or possibly in South America. At home we want to settle in a neighbourhood where my husband can head off to play golf and I can garden, read and go for walks.
I asked my husband how he imagined his life if I wasn’t in the picture. I know, sounds morbid doesn’t it, but if you have a partner then I’m sure you’ve had that conversation! Or, if you’re on your own, you have probably wondered what your life would be like with no responsibilities.
This is always a conversation I initiate – he then shakes his head and says he hasn’t thought about it, usually with the comforting words that he can’t imagine life without me. But now we’re getting older and life together until the end is not as realistic, we’re more pragmatic.
He thought for a moment and said he would probably live on a golf course and play golf every day. His future alone is not very different than our future together. I expect he would re-marry, I cannot imagine him being able to live alone. And I expect he would socialize more – our biggest difference is our extroverted/introverted personalities.
I think my future alone would also be similar to our future together. I would still want the older, character house with a mature garden in a walkable community close to the ocean. I would continue to enjoy my small circle of women friends. And, as long as I had access to books and learning opportunities, I would be content.
The only difference is that for most of my life I have headed off on solitary trips. That yearning is still an ache in my heart, and if I was on my own I envision myself heading off to travel and live a simple life on the road. I imagine myself travelling from country to country, possibly housesitting, volunteering, teaching English or maybe working on a farm in exchange for a room. I would come home occasionally to visit children and friends and to fulfill my residency requirement, eventually returning home full time when travel becomes too difficult.
This conversation has made me think about compromise. What do we give up when our lives are intertwined with another life – whether a partner, or a parent or children? Am I compromising my dreams or my needs for my partner? Even worse, is my growing confidence in who I am and what I want forcing my husband to compromise his dreams? This is where those societal norms rear their ugly head, as there is part of me that still believes that as a woman I should give up some of my dreams for my husband, but I don’t expect him to do the same for me!
Our conversation also made me reflect on our 34 years together. At one point in our marriage, when our children were still young, we wondered about our future together. This was not because we didn’t love each other, but because we are so different. My husband is extroverted and loves being around people. He is a sports fanatic and if he isn’t playing sports then he is watching sports. I prefer my own company, the causes I am passionate about, long walks with the dog, a large pile of books and occasional visits with my small circle of good friends. I don’t join my husband at company functions and even when it comes to our friends, I don’t do parties and large social gatherings.
At that time, early in our marriage, we wondered if two people who are so different could carve out a life together. But you know what, it works. It works because we respect each other’s individuality and independence. It works because we trust each other. It works because we both want what is best for the other. It works because we compromise.
Maybe life would be different lived alone - but it wouldn’t be better. As we move into the future together we are living the best of both worlds, committed to the life we are planning together and standing guard over the solitude of the other, gifting space to each other to live our one wild and precious life.