I knew this was going to happen sooner or later: the column would run a piece that completely rubs me the wrong way.  This is the week.

     Stephen Elliott describes his "relationship" with a married woman who has another boyfriend.  Thus, as he says: "there are three men in her life minimum."  He refers to this menage-a-quatre as "polyamory."  He’s even reading a book about it to make himself feel better about the fact that he is disrupting a parent-child relationship and competing with another hapless hanger-on for this woman’s time and attention.  Great.  That he would choose to pursue his initial feelings of attraction for this woman strikes me as something out of one of those pathetic MTV shows, the so-called "Real World."  From either a Taoist or Confucian perspective, the response would be pretty much the same: grow up.

     Anyone who has been reading this blog knows my own personal background: married for twenty five years, fairly deeply enmeshed in raising my children, etc.  Those experiences no doubt color my reading of Elliott’s piece.  I try to be open-minded and accepting of other people’s situations.  But this article pushes beyond what I can embrace as a responsible life choice. 

     A Taoist perspective would, I believe, support my skepticism.  On the one hand, Taoism is famous for its emphasis on spontaneity in all facets of life, and that might create some room for a "love the one your with" sort of existence.  But Taoism also cautions against self-indulgence, behavior that feeds into an overblown sense of personal importance and accomplishment.  In a way, Elliott does just this.  He cannot restrain his desire for her.  He must respond to her "raw physical beauty," even if it means sorting out days of the week with her husband and other boyfriend.  Such unbridled pursuit of desire would be scoffed at by both the Tao Te Ching and Chuang Tzu.  It is only when we let go of desire and embrace the simplicity of the "uncarved block," that we find our place in Way. 

      Confucians would obviously find the whole thing shallow and hollow, not worthy of the terms "love" and "relationship."  Elliott reveals a certain cynicism behind this affair: "Most relationships are doomed anyway; it’s their nature."  As if "relationships" are some sort of remote natural process beyond human control.  As if he does not bear some responsibility for the creation and maintenance of his own personal relationships.  But maybe that is the problem: he, and the others involved, do not want to accept responsibility for building something longer-lasting and meaningful in their relationships.  They want only to focus on the moment, indulge their immediate sexual and social desires, not have to worry about limiting their impulses and actions.  Yes, it may be fun, for a time, but it sure strikes me as juvenile. 

     I was watching the sad situation in New Orleans yesterday.  They interviewed a woman in Houston, who had finally made it out of the disaster.  They asked her why she had not left earlier.  It turns out her elderly mother had just had bypass surgery and moving her in an evacuation seemed too dangerous.  She felt she had to stay to find the best situation for her mother. They went to the Superdome to ride out the storm.  In hindsight, they would have been better off if they had fled farther, they would not have wound up in the mess that followed.   Yet she was sincerely acting  on her love for her mother.  She had her young daughter there with her and, together, they all persevered, got through the worst of it and pressed on to Texas.  Their lives have been turned completely upside down.   But they have stayed together, cared for one another, saw each other through to a better place.  Now, that is love; that is a relationship.