Day Ninety-Five: The Path We Chose

I am reading a fictionalized biography called "Loving Frank"* by Nancy Horan. I am struck with how much this book is about the difficulty of finding true happiness in this life. Indeed, it asks the question whether or not it is possible to be truly and completely happy. It tells the story of Mamah Borthwick, the lover of the groundbreaking American architect Frank Lloyd Wright. The significance of this is liaison is that she was a married woman with two children when she met Frank in 1907. He was married with six children. After years of a clandestine affair, she walked away from convention and her family to move to Europe with him. She then studied languages, took in European art and architecture, wrote and became a translator for Ellen Kay, an early feminist philosopher. These pursuits would have been impossible if she stayed in her marriage. Mamah was ultimately granted a divorce, but Frank was not. Both of them, as well as their extended families, suffered from the public humiliation and the hounding press while away in Europe. It became more scathingly when they returned to live in seclusion at a house Frank built in Wisconsin. They had virtually no family nor friends when they returned. Frank was unable to find clients because of the scandal. It is not the makings of an easy existence and it calls in question many conventions that we still abide by today.

Mamah was a very intelligent and sensitive person. Otherwise, how could she have ever realized her own unhappiness? She was loved and respected by her husband, they were financially well off, they had household and child rearing help which left her with the ability to pursue her interests, within limits, in the Women's Suffrage Movement. However, she did not love her husband. She never did. When she met Frank, who they employed to build them a home, she realized that she had met her soul mate. This led to the realization that she was simply sleepwalking through her life, never testing herself, not growing in any intellectual or spiritual way and not living authentically. Having this revelation, and then actually acting upon, it is stunning for a turn of the century American woman. Remember, women still had not yet even gained the right to vote. Suffregists were rable rousers. Career women were unnatural. She had a "perfect life" and she completely severed herself from it. Because of her decision, she became a social pariah, labeled a harlot and judged mentally unstable.

This is not too far off from what would happen if this took place today. Sure, women are freer to pursue their dreams in the first place, but this story is not unique to this time and place. How many of us, men and women, have started down a life path only to realize that it isn't really what they envisioned, wanted or needed? How many of us have the strength to change our lives when so many other people are depending on us to keep on in our chosen direction? Many of us live to fulfill other's expectations. Surely this cannot be what it means to be happy. Maybe we chose our careers or our mates to please our parents. Maybe we stay with a mate or career because it is safe and predictable. Maybe we squelch our dreams because others won't approve, we don't have enough self confidence to try something outside of our box or because it feels like our cast has been set in stone. Can happiness be had in such circumstances?

These are the questions of this novel, as these are the questions raised by Mamah's life. She leaves her two children for her lover. As a mother, I judged that decision harshly. She had no idea whether she would be able to see them again, as the law did not look favorably on a mother who deserted her children for an adulterous affair. Yet, I do not walk in her shoes. I feel I have found my match in life in my husband. What if I didn't? Would it matter? Doesn't the law of the universe, morality and convention dictate that a mother may never abandon her children to seek self fulfillment and/or true love? Isn't this the very definition of selfishness? I don't know the answer. I do know that she was a very brave woman to put herself first as it cost both her and those she loved a great deal of pain and suffering.

That brings us to the bigger questions: Can we ever truly be happy? What is happiness? Is it living to your fullest potential? Is it living by the rules of convention and making the best of what we have? Is happiness by definition selfish or is it selfless? Can it be both? Sounds like the stuff of a college philosophy class in which I was completely lost. Without this life experience I have gained, I couldn't possibly then understand the questions themselves, let alone look for the answers.

I have been very fortunate in a great many respects. My options as a young woman were virtually limitless. I followed a career path I chose that has allowed me a great deal of self fulfillment. I got to study what I wanted. I got to live on my own. I made decent money as a result and mainly spent it as I wished. I made my own decisions with little or no worry for others, as I did not support others. Now, things are very different. I am a wife and mother. I have decided that these roles are more important to me than that of my career. This decision was made for me and for those I love. I have also decided that it is best for my children to have me at home now. This decision was made for their benefit, not for mine. Still, I could no more walk away from them and this decision than I could cut off my right arm, no matter how unhappy I may feel from time to time. I am sure that is because I have a true partner; someone who understands me, respects my decisions, my contribution, my whole package, for better or for worse. If it was not so, I would be drowning and utterly unhappy. In this way, I have empathy for Mamah and her decision even though I don't agree with it.

In the end, our own happiness does indeed depend upon others. I do not believe that we can be truly happy without others to love, to care for, to worry about, to share with and to nurture. The mistake many of us make is feeling that it is all or nothing. We can't be happy if we don't find fulfillment within ourselves whether that is a creative, spiritual or intellectual outlet. We cannot give to others anything of value if our own cup is empty. At the same time, we cannot be happy when we make those we love unhappy with us and our decisions. We cannot solely live for ourselves, as that is a very lonely existence indeed. The balance is precarious. It was impossible to find in 1907 and it is still very hard to find today. The times may have changed, but the questions remain the same. All we can do in this life to be happy is to seek the balance.

(Again, I know this is a title and needs to be underlined, but I still can't figure it out on this damn program.)