More On Yesterday's Post . . .

If you haven't read this, you might want to before reading this extra bit of navel-gazing.

See . . . There's more to this desire for "greatness", this need to prove my capacity for transcendence, than a mere ego-boost. And while I already made it pretty clear (I think) that the issue extends well beyond the martial-arts, theatre, and education projects facing me this fall, there's actually a piece that I've been hesitant to address given the number of parents in our little flock. Because part of what I feel incapable of is parenthood.

Now I've always been ambivalent about parenthood. Not in the sloppy, American sense of the word, which tends to treat it as synonymous with apathy (oh, the crimes of Americans against the English language). No, I mean REAL ambivalence, wherein multiple strong emotions create a noisy stasis. Some of it's the usual stuff: Can we afford it? Am I ready for the impact on my career (such as it is)? Is this world a fit place for a new life? Am I unlikely to raise a serial killer? On the other hand, I'm stuck with other, less obvious questions: How can I provide economic stability while making it clear to my child that I'm suspicious of my culture's economic values? Can I impart an operative definition of integrity? Can I instill a love and valuation of aesthetics? How can I ensure that I bring a life into the world that improves it, when so much of what calls itself life seems to debase and degrade the world in which we live?

This isn't my sole preoccupation--everything I've said about wanting to make "important" art, teaching warrior ethic, altering the culture, what-have-you is still true, still a prominent desire in my life. Sometimes I think that, insofar as I want to have children at all, that need extends from the other, that I sometimes think the family is the most effective vessel for passing on revolutionary concepts and ethics.

Since 'Stine and I can't have children naturally, I'm faced with the prospect of needing to appear, while we're still young enough to have children out of the house before retirement, to be a reasonable candidate for adoption. Parents who can be parents naturally don't have to prove themselves "worthy", but prospective adoptive parents do. So one of areas where I feel the sting failure is in looking at myself as a candidate for parenthood financially. I see an actor/writer/musician/martial artist who offers his talents for free, who does desk-monkey work for a pittance that is less than the combined total of the monthly household credit card bills, and who doesn't seem to be headed for any kind of career. This approach might suffice if there's never anyone but us for whom to care; indeed, it might even suffice for a child, were it possible for us to have one without anyone evaluating our worth for such. But when held under a magnifying glass . . .

'Stine's got a lot going on. She's found something morally and spiritually satisfying in which to specialize, at which she excels, and for which she is paid. She's not the obstacle. There are many reasons why I would like to become less shiftless and vague in my approach to life, even before introducing the idea of children; but making that transition with an eye towards both my values and my aptitudes could take more time than it seems like we have.

Where do greatness and transcendence fit into this? Well . . . again, it's largely a matter of being able to hold my head up even without the trappings of financial success or professional appreciation. Maybe successfully teaching at-risk youth about theatre, or passing a level-test, or writing potent works of performance text for myself have nothing to do with being a good parent (indeed, I'm fairly CERTAIN they bear no relation), but they DO speak to my ability to put my values and abilities into action. I'm never going to be the guy with the corner office, and I wouldn't want to be. I've no gift for sales, little respect for current educational hierarchies, and no idea what, besides sales or teaching, someone of my particular skills could do within the market. Working with my body, with ideas, with patterns and cycles in art and media, is what I'm built for, whether I'm doing it for free or for pay, whether I'm doing it well or poorly. And for all that, if asked to account for my lack of success, I'd want to be able to say, "Yes, I'm broke; but I'm broke because I've stayed true to my values, an approach to life I'd hope to pass on to any progeny. I work hard and I get by. I sacrificed a lucrative career to study those disciplines I found compelling and important; I sacrificed a career in those disciplines to maintain what I see as the integrity of the forms."

As it is, despite the work I've done and continued to do, despite my efforts at self-improvement through art, religion, philosophy, and combat sport, I'm still all but overcome with shame when I look at myself. I still worry that it's laziness or--worse yet--utter lack of talent that's kept me where I am, not some vague notion of integrity. I fear asking someone to let me raise a child because I fear, on some level, that I really don't deserve one, that I'm really not qualified. As worried as I am that I will be rejected by any adoption agency for being too poor, too old, too colorful, I'm scared of something even worse: that the reason for which I am these things isn't because I was too dedicated to my vision quest, but because I'm too potently self-absorbed to be any other way, and that to give children to so hopeless a scoundrel would be a cruel condemnation.

Anyway . . . sorry that the above is both technically sloppy, writing-wise, and wildly self-indulgent. I guess that true, bone-deep self-doubt is usually both.