Marriage Killers - The Wasted Pedestal

My grandmother was a very wise woman. Gifted yet flawed, humble yet confident. She once told me, in her playful yet direct kind of way, that I should "watch out for women, for they are more trouble than the men." Before you write me letters, let me say I disagree with her… But I do appreciate her sentiment, certainly moulded by her experience and insight into a world more familiar to her, the same way my humbler view of men is sculpted by an observation from within the male ranks.

There is a tendency, unique to humanity by which we judge the value of something by contrasting it with something else (we perceive to be) of lesser worth. The more we elevate the former, the lower the latter gets, as if separated by the fulcrum of a balance scale.

We've all seen the stickers on the backs of pickup trucks depicting Chevy boy urinating on a Ford logo (or vice-versa). Crude, perhaps, but if we are honest, we all have allegiances to that which we most identify with or whom we feel best represents us within our immediate sphere of influence. From athletes to actors and politicians, from authors to popular brands, we are all born with a need to glorify ideas, people and objects, all of which become like rudders in our short earthly voyages. 

That need of ours to deify something outside of us is like a pedestal; impossible to keep vacant in the sea of idols that is the stuff of life. This unseen pedestal we carry around is in itself neither good nor corrupt, which can't be said of the content we place upon it. One speaks of a need, the other speaks of the answer. The pedestal is our happiness place, from which ultimate fulfilment and joy come from.

If there is indeed an answer, could it be made up of transient, short lived items and practices which leave us in a continuous cruel exercise of false starts, until we meet our demise?

So the question remains, what is an appropriate tenant for our pedestal?

One thing surely isn't - husbands. No man or woman is worthy. If you are on someone's pedestal you are an impostor, and in great danger of losing them, whether you forced your way or were invited in.

What men tend to do is fill their pedestal with a blend of things like: our income, professional and personal achievement, sports, toys, dreams and what our ladies do for us (not so much the ladies themselves). This combination, albeit fraudulent can be fairly stable, since it's rare for its parts to come undone all at once. We have the capacity (or knuckle-headedness) to keep experimenting with different combinations for decades or even for a lifetime, without recognizing the futility of the exercise. 

Women can follow a similar pattern...

Some women, however, are masters at polishing up their pedestal, and placing their knight in shining armour on it, all by his lonesome self. Their inherent giftedness in nurturing and a need to feel desired and cared for, can act like an accelerant in this implausibly volatile fantasy. It's a sad thing, the sight of a fully committed and tireless woman, looking up at her pedestal in expectation of a kind of glory that will never come. This counterfeit solution will eventually bring dejection, weariness and resentment. And by then it may be too late (for her). 

It's very rare that a man ever comes down from the pedestal to his rightful place in a woman's life. He is usually demoted straight to the trash bin. I've experienced both, and unlike my grandmother, I am not certain of which is worse.