Investments

 There are two important parameters to consider when it comes to investing of any kind: resources and time.  How much emotion, work, and assets must you allocate to the investment?  And how much time will it take to see certain milestones, and how will you know the investment is paying off?  As a teacher, I'm in the business of investing in people.  What kind of resources and support will someone need to get to where they want to go, and how much time will that take them and you?

Even though everyone is worth investing into, some people are better investments than others.  Some show constant, linear progress, while some others boom like stocks when they split.  It's hard to predict which stocks will boom or bust, and when or if they will.  Even those "blue chip" stocks which show proven growth potential and performance can, one day, be sent into a downward spiral.

They say in finance that you should choose stocks that you like and can stand behind.  So that even if the stock rises or falls, you can still feel good about investing in something you believe in.  I find that is nowhere more true than with people.  If you love someone's spirit and heart, you'll be able to look past flaws, bad days, and the occasional breakdown.  At the end of the day, you know they are a beautiful person and they are trying the best that they can with the resources they have available to them.

Even so, being able to stand behind what they stand for doesn't change the fact that they may be a bad investment, no matter how much you want to root them on.  At some point, the resources and/or time that you've invested have to be called into question and accounted for.  Do you still want to sink in the same amount of resources that you used to?  Is that wise?  And how much more time do you want to spend investing before you have a clear answer that this is not something you should be investing in?  What's the cutoff?

Sometimes, we get caught in a sunk cost fallacy, where we feel that we have to continue investing in something because of how deeply invested we already are.  We must find clarity in realizing that what is lost is already lost and make our decisions based on what the next right move is, going forward, not making decisions based on past regrets.

Other times, we may disregard potential because we may not be able to make the proper investment of time to benefit from its full performance potential.  Instead, we choose an investment that has slightly less shine, only because it's further along in its growth, has some attractive qualities, and although it doesn't have the growth potential of a volatile newcomer, it's steady and predictable.  When does investing become gambling?  And are they ever not the same thing?

As a teacher, I know that even if I only had one day to spend inspiring and motivating a student, it would be time and energy well spent.  For even one poignant moment can stay etched into their memory forever.  And students, whether young or old, beginning or advanced, require and demand the attention and care that loving support can provide.  But where does that leave the teacher?  I suppose the answer is that they are left with a string of memories of those whose lives they have touched and the knowledge that they have made a difference.

At the end of the day, maybe the point of investing isn't to have the actual shares of stock that are irrefutable records of having made wise decisions.  Maybe stocks are meant to come into our lives just as fast as they leave, to be bought and sold, and leave a string of memories of how we've interacted with the world at different vantage points in our lives.  Maybe we, ourselves, are the wise investment, and we are collecting our own supporters who will cheer us on whether our own stock is booming or goes bust?

Zero Sum Games

The ego is a tricky thing: in order for it to be valued, something else, somewhere, needs to be devalued.  If I am a good teacher, then there must be worse teachers out there.  If I am desirable, then that must mean there are less desirable people somewhere in the world.  We often live our lives in this dichotomy of "greater than" and "less than," a zero sum game where in order for one person to win, another has to lose.

I feel this when I get jealous.  When one person is taking their turn doing something you want to do, that automatically means that only one person gets to enjoy said thing at a time.  Therefore, that means that they are enjoying themselves when you are not.  As such, one person is winning, and the other person is losing.

The only scenario in which this isn't so cut and dried is in love.  When a mother watches her child eat ice cream and sees the expression of joy on their face, the mother experiences similar feelings of satisfaction. A friend is happy to hand the video game controller over to another friend because they know they are about to experience something great and they want them to not only have that experience but also to share it with them.  Love and the investment of time, energy, and emotion changes the zero sum game into something more additive, where both people can win at the same time.

I've been trying to learn about and experience polyamory, both from a philosophical and practical perspective.  In polyamory, there is a concept called "compersion" (which autocorrect wanted me to change to "comparison") which basically means you can experience happiness because your partner is happy.  This philosophy serves as the founding basis for open relationships, ethical non monogamy, etc.

  

Added to that is Esther Perel's assertion that an entire village is needed to support a singular person and that one person cannot be another person's everything: their lover, confidant, mentor, mentee, rival, and best friend.  She feels that we need many people, experiences, and activities to satisfy all of ourselves, then we bring those supportive experiences back into the relationship, thereby strengthening the bonds we already have in our relationships, careers, and with ourselves.

Love is meant to be additive, not zero sum.  Because I love the viola doesn't mean I can't or won't love T'ai Chi.  Yes, it may mean that I can't play the viola while doing T'ai Chi at the exact same time, but my departure from one allows me to have realizations and experiences that then help deepen the other.  Love as additive allows for evolution, growth, and change.  And what is the #1 killer of love?  Stasis.

Single Life

 So, for the last three months, I've been on my own, so to speak.  I ended a nearly 11-year relationship with Billy in November, and decided to move closer to work and try out solo poly.  In looking over my calendar, it looks like I dated 20 people within that time period (many of whom I slept with, many multiple times), and how bad is it that I spent a good five minutes trying to remember, "Who the fuck is Steven??" whom I apparently saw twice in January?

Fast forward to today, and I've ended all of my relationships with people except for with Anthony, the pro gamer whose 26th birthday is this Thursday.  I've deleted all of my dating apps and am reclaiming the time I spent responding to texts from people who didn't matter to me, marginalized me, or didn't know what they wanted and reinvesting that energy back into myself, my friends, and my career.  

I realized that the pure act of sex is not what I was craving all those months and years ago.  To be honest, I have better sex by myself with a toy and some good porn.  Plus, it doesn't come with the need to take a shower or put on makeup, or clean the house, to take care of someone's feelings, or ask what they'd like to drink.  No, what I was craving had nothing to do with genitalia.  

I was most turned on by making someone feel safe and provided for, loved, taken care of, so that they could take that energy and feel enabled and supported enough to pursue their true potential.  Billy was that for me for so long: wounded, weak, vulnerable.  And I groomed him and built him up to be the perfect partner for me: loyal, self-sacrificing, obedient, loving.  I gave him time, energy, money, experiences, love; and I had hoped that he would practice alchemy and transmute those things into power, wealth, confidence, strength, and resilience.  But that never happened.  Were they the wrong ingredients?  The wrong crucibles?  Or is that just not how alchemy works in the first place?

I don't like being single.  I feel like my energy is being wasted and is being under-utilized.  This is the closest I've come to understanding how homeowners feel about renting: "You're just throwing away money at that point."  I want to invest, and provide, and protect.  I want to see something come out of my efforts.  Maybe it's not having children or battling cancer that has made me seek legacy, and maybe choosing a profession in education hits too close to home, but I want to create something that can progress and grow directly because of me and my efforts.  It's one of the reasons that I hate games that you can't save and progress in; what's the point of sinking time and energy into something that just constantly resets every single time?

Come what may, I think it's time to stop feeding energy into systems which lead to stasis.  I am the Goddess of Life, after all.  My reason for being is to usher in growth and change, and also even death and decay.  Undulation, upheaval, repair, and restore; that is my essence.  It's time to lean in to Who I Am, why I'm here, and what I truly offer to this world.