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Sunday, December 19, 2010

Divorce as a spiritual quest

For two or three years before separating from my husband, I knew I was unhappy in the marriage but was not ready to make any decisions. I knew I was waiting until I felt strongly that we would stay together or separate, so I decided to put that time to good use.

I had been able to see clearly his faults and shortcomings, but had learned that I could not change him, so I decided to focus on me and my behaviour.

I thought that I would develop the best me I could. It wouldn’t hurt and may make staying together possible. I wasn’t ready at that point to shoulder any of the blame, but I did recognize that I was not yet perfect.

So I decided to grow. I read articles online, visited websites, reserved library books, listened to tapes, and even watched Dr Phil. I journalled, painted and explored. I cried and walked, swam and grew.

Somewhere along the way my reading path changed from relationships to self-help, then to introspection, then to philosophy and now spirituality.

I tried to save a foundering marriage and found my soul.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Managing my own money

Just got back from an update meeting with my banker. For the first time in ages I am managing my own money and it feels great.

It’s funny to notice how old-fashioned I had been in letting my husband make most of the financial decisions and actions. He is very good with money, and worked for the bank for ages, so was comfortable with the ins and outs of accounts and money management.

It’s not that I’m incapable or stupid, but what a lovely treat to give your money over to someone you trust implicitly (and who has personal investment in the outcomes), and just show up at the meetings, murmuring “you know best, honey.”

I had completely disempowered myself. I wanted nothing to do with money; hence money became scary because I had no idea of our assets and liabilities. When my husband told me we could or couldn’t afford something, I believed him.

While I earn considerably less that he does, for the first time since we moved in together, I feel financially empowered.

I know that I am good with money. Even as a student, I made my money grow by investing my student loans until and unless I absolutely needed the cash.

I look forward to once again handling my own money, to working with my banker until I understand the options and benefits, and even to making regular contributions to charity.

Money management - it’s a gift!

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Alone time

“Once a mother, always a mother”, my mother used to tell me, meaning that parenthood allows little time off – even for good behaviour.

Having kids has allowed me to experience more joy and unconditional love than I ever could have imagined. But part of the price you pay is that there’s no time off. Nights, weekends, nights, nights, early mornings – you have to respond to their needs with love and competence.

One of the unintended benefits of separation has been that my kids stay over at their dad’s one night a week. This has given me a wonderful reward – time off being Mom.

I love my Saturday nights. Sometimes I go out but often prefer to stay home.

Sometimes I watch tv and eat chips. I get to sit on a clean sofa in a tidy room and watch what I want; no Hannah Montana or overloud laugh tracks.

Sometimes I work on my art, without being asked why I won’t let them paint on my canvas. If I choose to write I can finish a sentence and finish a thought.

I cook for myself, don’t have to remind them - for the ten-thousandth time - that the dishwasher works only when the dishes are actually in it. 

No bedtime struggles, no arguments over who gets the blue cup. No one asking where their yellow sock is or why I won’t let them have a cell phone. No telling the kids (for the ten-thousandth time!) to put their junk away.

In fact, I don’t have to talk to anyone if I don’t want to.

Lazing in a hot bath with a glass of wine and no interruptions is incredibly revitalizing after a busy week.

In the morning I sleep in, then linger over coffee and the Sunday New York Times. Eventually I get up and go for a run. Later, I'll head to the local pool, lounging in the hot tub without shivering kids exhorting me to go down the waterslide with them.

What luxury. Selfishness without any 'bad parent' guilt.

When the kids come back the next day, I am refreshed and recharged. I've had the chance to miss them a little and am ready to renew my commitment to being the best parent that I can be. And now I have the energy to do so.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Letting go



You know it’s interesting how easy letting go is. And how freeing.

I noticed recently that I have been judging my ex and his behaviour regarding the children. Here’s my issue: I think that he is used to his default setting being free and that he is starting to fit the kids in when he is available, not making them a priority and arranging his life around them. My judgment is that he is not acting as I would have him act.

In the old days, the pattern would be that I would notice this, decide it’s no good, silently observe and judge him, then get riled up enough to want to speak out. I’d approach him, he’d feel defensive (gee, I wonder why) and we’d end up in a he-said/she-said argument. He might even get frustrated and feel attacked enough to want to go on the offensive and disparage me and my actions.

Anger, defensiveness, personal attacks, bitterness – the hallmarks of poor relationship. No wonder these conversations didn’t work.

It’s all so clear in retrospect. And now, with enough physical and emotional space between us, I have a better perspective.

There is a freedom that comes from no longer trying to mesh our styles. I can allow him to be him, and stop trying to turn him into my version of what he should be.

I am able to know that my understanding of things may not be universal Truth. What looks to me like apathy or laziness may be actually lack of time, depression, or simply that he is comfortable with the amount of time he spends with his kids. I can be compassionate enough to try to see things from his point of view, and respect his choices.

Because of our separation I can see him clearer, and see the good he brings into our lives – mine and especially the kids’. He gives them experiences that they wouldn’t get from me. He has opened them to worlds I know very little about. I can value his input and give thanks for his energy and curiosity.

But – and this is the funnest part – I don’t need to approve his actions or agree with his choices. I don’t get a say. It’s his business – not within my domain or sphere of influence. It’s not my business; it doesn’t matter what I think. I get to drop it.

Just like when I watch clouds pass by overhead – I don’t preoccupy myself with my opinion of the clouds and whether or not I want them around. My liking or not liking those clouds means nothing. They just are. “Oh look, clouds are passing by”.

I handle judgments of my ex in the same way. I notice the judgment, investigate it, say hm, and drop it. It’s not my department. When I was a waitress we had a saying: not my section. This meant a particular table was not my responsibility and would be taken care of by someone else. This is the same situation – the actions of my ex are not my section, and my judgments of him are not his section. I notice the thought and let it pass.

Now I say to myself, “oh look, I’m judging the ex”, and move on to other things. So freeing.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Healing


I am healing my heart. I can feel it – in my dreams, my actions and my thoughts.

I dream about happy love, about meeting someone and liking them without giving myself away or becoming helpless. Years ago, in my dreams and reality, I thought had to get the guy to like me. Now I am more likely to hesitate and see potential flaws. This tells me I am not ready to fall in love. Although I would love to!

I am sick of making the same mistake; of being involved with the same kind of guy again and again. This time I’d rather be a little lonely than have an unsatisfying lonely relationship.

I do not trust my judgment - what feels familiar is now suspect.

In love we search for our parents – what attracts us to others is similarity to our parents (the way our caregivers were when we were little). I was seeking to replace my remote father or authoritarian mother, and so was attracted to distant, individualistic, blocked creatives who liked to drink a lot.

I used to believe that sexual attraction led me to the right guy. And maybe it does – according to my beliefs it should, because I believe the body knows more than the mind. But so far it’s not been reliable.

Or has it? My previous relationships have been important aspects of my life, all of which led me here. I love my life, I love who I am and what I do. So were those previous relationships wrong? I don’t think so. Nor did they fail.

I don’t believe that ending a romantic association means the failure of that relationship. Sometimes it’s a natural evolution.

Even if those past relationships were exactly what they should have been, now I want my reward relationship – a graduation gift for surviving, learning from, and overcoming the obstacles created by my ego and lack of awareness.

I want a loving healthy mutual joyous relationship. I’ve done the hard work, now is time to play!

So now is the time to learn to trust myself; to take new friendships slowly, trust but don’t overexpose, and live my highest priorities as I engage with others.
I now approach romance the way I buy clothes – only those that fit perfectly and  enhance me in some way. I don’t look for clothes to cover my flaws or create what isn’t there; their function is to allow me to be the best, most joyous me I can be.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Unfurling


I feel like a flower who is opening after a long winter spent furled in fear and self-defense. As I run I can feel myself opening up, stretching out finding my new feet. I physically feel like I have been asleep, curled up in a ball, unconscious to the world.

And now I am opening and it feels strange at first, like walking on land after being on a boat for some while. I stumble a bit, rediscovering my legs, my equilibrium thrown off, although it feels wonderfully balanced. That once I get my legs, I will find myself more grounded than ever before. Grounded and balanced like a statue, fully supported by my sturdy base and strong armature, I am now able to reach out to life and do more, because I have so much trust in life and myself. 

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Lightening up

Today I noticed that my frown line is receding. It's a deeply-etched crevice between my eyebrows; the result of years of carrying a slight frown on my face. Since separating and despite the unknowns and new beginnings, it's getting smaller.

I also notice that I am developing wrinkles on my cheeks - what are they from? I had to laugh when I realised that what caused those new lines is smiling and laughter.

I know - I deeply deeply know, that this separation is the best thing I could have done. Yes it was difficult, scary, stressful, but looking back at who I was a year ago makes me sure that I have done the best thing. My ex, although a wonderful guy, has such a different approach to life and happiness that I know we never would have been happy together.

I love to live in the moment - although I am not always successful - feeling and being and trusting life to provide what is needed. I don't need to know all the answers or be right or be the smartest. I am happy to live in ambiguity and creativity. I believe my highest purpose is to spread love.

More and more people I know have died or had major health scares, which causes not fear in me, but acts as a reminder to enjoy every moment, to be satisfied with here and now. It may not be ideal and I can certainly work to improve my situation, but I am happy now.

My ex seemed to have very different ideals - a more wait and see approach; an attitude of I'll be happy when, and the glass is half-empty. He seemed to have lost the ability to take joy in just being - in those cliched little moments. He seemed to want to bring himself back down to earth with financial fears and realities, crime and antitheism, and negative expectations.

Just to have removed that influence from my daily life has lightened my environment. And it doesn't mean I'm irresponsible or pollyana-ish - merely that my days are filled with more joy and laughter than ever before. I have created space for joy. Because that's what I really wanted.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Waiting

For the first time in possibly my entire life I do not feel like I am waiting.

I had always assumed I would marry and have kids. I waited to find a guy - the right guy. Then I waited for him to ask me to marry him. After marriage, I waited to have kids. I got pregnant and looked forward to the birth. Then I waited to have another, got pregnant again and looked forward to that birth.

Caring for babies and little kids is hard work, so I waited for them to be able to feed themselves, to get out of diapers, talk, to walk, to grow up a bit and go to school.

I waited for them to be able to walk themselves to and from school. Then I waited for them to come home.

I waited to go back to work, to find work I liked. I waited to restart my life, reconnect with old friends, get my figure back.

I waited for my husband to  spend more time with me, with us, with the kids. I waited for our marriage to get better. I waited to be happy.

I waited to sell our house, to move, to get settled. Now I am waiting no longer and it feels great.

There is an expanded post on waiting and happiness at Esperanza Spiritulata.

Symbology

I got my bed cut down. It's a foam bed, and may I say a wonderful thing. Yay, Foam Shop. I am spoiled for any other bed. It has actually affected my desire to travel because no other bed is as good - I never sleep as well as I do on my own bed.

But it was a king size; perfect for the two of us when we shared it. Now I find king too big for one person, and since my room is small, I can use the extra space. (18"x81"= according to my calculations that's 121 square feet extra in my room. Well it feels like a lot ;)

So I folded up my mattress and hauled it off to the foam shop. Got a smaller base made and had the mattress cut down. Took myself to winner's and got a new queen-sized sheet. Another great winner's deal; 650 thread-count sheet set for sixty bucks. Could my sheets be too smooth?

I was laying in my newly queen-sized bed feeling like a queen and had to laugh at the symbolism of it all: the king is gone, now the master bedroom holds a queen; a Queen is the Master. Cute. And really really comfortable.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Allowing sadness

Until I got in touch with my feelings last week, I thought I held no sadness and had healed all those aspects of letting go. Now I realise just how much I have been holding in; actually letting it out disguised as other issues.

I read an article recently about how our the thing we worry about most may not be the biggest or only issue - that my constant worry over money may in fact be concern for my kids or even just sadness and mourning my marriage.

I snap at the kids sometimes, and fret over the dog poop in my side yard (I don't have a dog). I'm concerned about my car, my skin, my health, the washing machine, the general moisture content of the air, and why my duvet smells like wet dog.

So it shouldn't have been such a surprise to realise that all this is probably mis-expressed sadness over my divorce. Leaving a marriage may a positive thing, and something I did to be good to myself, but that doesn't make it easy or all balloons and cake. It's ok to be sad, even though I took what I see as the correct path. I guess I have to remember that. And allow it to flow through me and out of me.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Decreasing frequencies & waves of sadness

The number of posts to this blog is diminishing as I guess I look forward into my new life. And as we separate emotionally.

I think less often about my marriage or my husband. I'm not so busy trying to fix him so the mental energy goes into other pursuits. I have less to gripe about, the bumpy part is done for now and we're just establishing new and separate lives.

It's a little sad, similar to when the dog died last year. It was inevitable; we all knew it was coming, but nonetheless it was quite sad at the time. I feel sad now - my ex is a lovely guy; we had a lot of good times and good memories. But our breakup was inevitable - of course it was; it happened - and it's time for our paths to diverge.

I thought I had mourned this marriage several years ago, as I began to understand the ramifications of how I felt. I mourned the marriage, the hope, the good times, the being new parents together, the holiday meals and watching our family grow up together. At the time I thought I had got it all out: I cried so much that my garbage can constantly overflowed with tissues.

So it takes me by surprise to admit the depth of sadness I feel today. It's not a hopeless Nobody will ever love me lack of love feeling. It's the same sweet sadness I felt when the dog died. His death allowed us a retrospective of our lives with him and how he opened our hearts.

It's the same with my marriage. It opened my heart and I had a lot of important life experiences during that time. I grew up, I learned a ton, I had defining moments.

I do miss him. I miss being married. I miss making a nest with someone. I miss loving someone so much that we talk and talk. I miss shared sexuality. I miss embracing someone. I miss light-heartedness, optimism and hope. While I am fully clear on why we split, I choose to retain the positive memories of love and hope.

And so I give thanks for the experience and gently lay my marriage to rest with a smile on my lips and a tear in my eye.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Lovability

As I gain perspective and distance from my marriage, I see more objectively how we arrived where we are. My part becomes more clear.

I became increasingly frustrated with my inability to rekindle my romance and reconnect with my husband. As frustration mounted, I became emotionally more self-protective. I did not want to let him in if he was going to tromp all over my heart in messy boots again.

So I hid my irritation less. I stopped taking initiative in our social life, or sex or pretty much anything. I turfed him out of the bedroom.

I'm not saying I should not have done any of those things, those were the best ideas I had at the time, but I see now how much my own actions damaged our relationship.

I really let my bitch hang out. I was cold, confrontational, questioning and impatient. I gave no vibes that said come hug me, I'm safe. I turned off lovability.

Monday, September 13, 2010

This is it

I read a recent article where the author says he trained himself to remember that "this is it". This is it. This is a good as it gets - that's another phrase I've always liked. Here, now, this is it and this is as good as it gets.

After so many years of wondering whether to leave or stay in my marriage, after so many years of trying to build a home together - both literally and figuratively - and then after so many months of finishing and selling the house, then all the moves... after all that, this is it.

I am separated, single, solo. I'm a little bit lonely in the love department, but then I have been for some while, so that's not a new thing I have to deal with. The beauty of our slow motion breakup is not having to suddenly get used to sleeping alone or missing romance.

There is no more trying to fix, no more what if. No more should I stay or should I go, no more what if the house doesn't sell? This is it.

No more blaming unhappiness on someone else; no more sense of helplessness. This is it - this is my life, my family and my future. No whining or complaining; no living in the future. This is it and I have to get on with life.

I realise the full extent of how much I have been holding myself back, waiting for something, distracted by my marriage. Now I no longer have that distraction, nor the attendant stress and unhappiness, I can spread my wings and fly.

It's not so much that my husband was holding me back, as I was holding myself back by putting a lot of energy into him and our marriage. Not that I was Miss Perfect and always trying to fix it. Sometimes the pure energy drain of being angry at him or feeling frustrated - especially the frustration - was enough to distract me from making better decisions. My brain was like a plant being overwhelmed by Morning Glory - an invasive weed that first climbs, then chokes and brings down any plant tall enough to climb.

I was preoccupied with my poor relationship - it filled most of my waking moments. Then I started distracting myself with late-night drinking or binge eating in front of the tv; whatever salved the wounds.

Solving my marriage took me away from work, my kids, myself. I had to review and reevaluate all my conceptions about love, marriage, myself, my husband. I had to figure out what I expected, what I wanted, what I deserve, and what I'd put up with. Who is responsible for this marriage and who can fix it? Having kids of course makes it all the more difficult - what is best for them? For me? For us? Am I irrevocably harming them or is a happier mother and a peaceful home worth it?

But now my actions are done, we are more or less settled into our new home and new lives. No more hoping for a different outcome, trying to change him or me, confusion, frustration or anger. From here the healing begins, the building of new lives and new habits, my independence. This is it.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

A touch of Sadness

Today's a day when I feel a little sad. I indulged in a little worry and self-pity this morning. I do love my life and I do like the way I live but nothing is one-sided and today I was just feeling the opposite.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Separate Bedrooms

When my husband and I first had separate bedrooms, mine was almost empty. Tellingly it contained little content, decoration, or sense of occupant. A friend looked in and said it looked like a dorm room. I felt like an idiot.

As time passed, and as I redefined myself, my room also grew in content and personality. Occasionally I would try to hurry the process by on-purpose decorating, but that rarely worked and usually was mostly dismantled. Nice little allegory.

Now my whole house bursts with personality and idiosyncrasies that were not artificially created - they're just the outcome of our lives.

I love that I can see this living tribute to finding myself again and anew. It's a power and a joy.

Plus ca change...

Life feels oddly like life felt before. Of course there is less stress and anger, but the facts of my life are the same. Who I am is more defined, less reactive, and I tend to be happier. Because I really am now the only architect of my happiness, I know to choose my mood. I know to continue to tilt toward happiness.

Friends

In the last few months I have become aware of the abundance that surrounds me. Physical things, emotional generosity, love in action. There is so much good energy in my life. (I made a typo and wrote there is so much food energy... there's a lot of that, too.)

I'm so happy to reconnect with friends and have something to talk about other than bitching about the state of my marriage. It's the first time in years. It's a real energy boost. Now I want to see my friends, because I don't feel like a wet rag, dampening their spirits.

And my friends are so interesting! I love listening, being spacious enough to actually hear them. I don't have that desperate need to talk and actually get more out of listening.

Yesterday my friend and I had lunch then went away to write for an hour. We each wrote well and productively. I'm so thrilled to have a friendship that supports my goals and priorities.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Now what?

A friend of mine recently went through breast cancer, treatment, and recovery. She is doing remarkably well - healthy, energized and happy. She's thrilled, of course, to be healthy again, but noted an odd side-effect: boredom. Now that her days and mind are longer filled with cancer worries, treatment and side-effects, she says she's not sure what to think about or how to fill her days.

I experienced that same disorientation immediately after finishing college. There is such a focus, such a clear goal, to the exclusion of all else. All my waking energies were directed toward one point - graduation. When I finished school, I slept for a couple of weeks, then wandered around vaguely disoriented, wondering what normal people do with their days. I still had my college waitressing job, so I worked, but then I mostly slept and hung around.

What to do when we achieve our goal?

Now that I am more or less settled into my new home and my new life as a single woman, I find I have more brain space than every before. All the energy I spent on hating the ex, wondering whether to leave my marriage and worrying what would happen if I did, and then later on selling the house and finding a new home - all that energy is now freed up.

I clearly remember one morning shortly after we separated.

That was the day I became aware of my habit of complaining to myself about the ex while unloading the dishwasher. He had too many kitchen gadgets or put them away inconsistently or oh I don't know what, but there were plenty of complaints to myself each morning. I must have done that every morning for years!

I awoke that morning as usual, made coffee and emptied the dishwasher as usual. While unloading the dishwasher I noticed my complaining because suddenly the complaints didn't fit! I had nothing to complain about! It took me a moment as I wondered, well what am I going to think about now?

Luckily I am at a more mature stage in my life than when I finished college. I am using my extra mental time for writing, cooking and yes, the occasional worry about the future.

Now I wonder, ok I've achieved my goal of separating and setting up my new life. Now what?

I realise it's time to set exciting new goals, refocus my dreams, and open up to creating a great life for myself and my family.

After all the heartache and pain, this feels like a fun reward to be able to create totally new goals and aims. I got some high-end magazines with pictures of wonderful places. I'm going to make my new dream board, full of things that make me anxiously excited as I wonder can I really ask for that? Do I deserve that? It's so much fun that the answer is always yes.

Saturday, August 28, 2010

Divorce as a success

 Divorce is so often seen as a failure, but I think there are times when it is a success. It's better to live separately happily than be miserable together.

My grandmother-in-law sent us a letter telling me to reunite with my husband. I found it interesting that people who don't even know the details of my life would presume to tell me how to live it. Would assume they know best.

I'm not insulted or upset. She loves us and is motivated by love and fear. But I'm sure glad I don't feel the need for a lot of support by others, because I'm certainly not getting it from a lot of people. Maybe they think divorce is contagious ;)

But really, when I think back to a year ago, despite the confusion and upheaval I am much - much much much - happier now. Way less sense of security, although an odd sense of security comes from giving up seeking security. I no longer pretend that anything in life can be secure.

I am living the way I want with my kids, without an opposing - and often negating - point of view. Is it just coincident that all of a sudden we go for walks, cook together, read together and do yoga together? My kids who never wanted to do anything now spend lots of time with me, and it's enjoyable and healthy.

Gaining Confidence

I have a tendency to go from 0 to 60 in seconds. I express anxiety through worry. When I hear a squeak from downstairs, I instantly go to the worst that it could be. Is it a murderer, marauding mice, a water leak?

And since as we think, so we experience, I have then already experienced all those horrors in less that two seconds - whether or not they turn out true, they've already turned out true for me.

I'm torturing myself. Literally. I am putting myself through terrible experiences just so I won't be let down by life.

But this is too hard on me. I can feel the subtle signals of stress. My throat is tight, my stomach frequently upset. My back hurts in various places (no surprise; see what Louise Hay says about back pain) and I'm sleeping less deeply.

When I stop, question my thoughts and think about my present moment, I see that I am fine. My anxiety comes from wondering will I be ok as I move forward in my new life. I don't have a regular predictable source of income, but I do have enough money in the bank for at least a couple of years. I've never lived alone with children, nor have I supported myself financially in a long time.

All this is new. I am outside my comfort zone and hoping I made the right choices. I did not realize just how much I had been giving my power away to my husband, and to just about anyone for that matter.

I am learning to trust the supportive universe, but it's baby steps for me. One small setback and I want to cry, or give up, or feel sorry for myself. A moment of that, then I take a big breath, pick myself up and move on.

And I have to provide my own under-responsiveness. I have re-trained myself to stop and question panic thoughts. Yes, it may be so, I tell myself. But what is the most likely - the simplest - explanation? If everything was ok and on track, what would the source of that noise be?

It's a magic habit. That plus allowing myself to feel panicky - the way we encourage our kids to do something we know they can but they don't yet know they can. We say of course you're scared - it wouldn't be normal not to be, but I know you can do it.

That's how I talk to myself now - gently, supportively, calmly. Nice. And guess what? That's how I treat my kids now too.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Leaping into thin air

Well I turned down a job today. I am taking one of the biggest risks in my life, or so it seems, by deciding to follow my heart and write. I am going to take a season to adjust to my new life, to support the kids and to teach.

I turned down a job doing something I can do well and easily, but in a field in which I am no longer active, and no longer interested. It stresses me out because I am not up to date and am not willing to put in the effort to get up to date, and yet I have been able to fake it up to now. I still could fake it but no longer want to.

I keep reaching this point in my life but have never moved beyond it into complete freedom. I've always choked at last minute and taken a job, thinking of that as more safe than doing what moves me.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Flatlining

Well now the excitement of house selling, packing & moving, unpacking & settling, is all done. We are settled. For the time being. Not sure what the future holds; all I know is there is no security.

All the action stuff is done. Now the reality of a new life is settling upon us. Me and the kids. The ex seems to have lost interest in his kids - does fly-by five minute visits, full of reasons he has no time, yet telling us of exciting new social events he attends. He doesn't hear the irony.

Now what? It's like a death; there is that initial flurry of activity and support, then a lifetime of that relationship no longer existing.

Now I'm on my own, with two young children who miss their dad and having a dad. They miss the certainty of their old life, and they miss feeling secure. Their life has changed hugely. I am their only functional parent.

And life stretches out before me like a saskatchewan highway.

I know it will get interesting again. I know it will rise up to meet me, challenge me, reward me. But right now everything just feels kind of flat.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

on being the neighborhood divorcee

Looking back over the past six months, I notice that many friends deserted. They didn't offer extra help with the kids, or to take me out for a dish session. When I saw them on the street or at the school they told me how terrible - terrible! - this whole divorce was and how they had thought I'd be with my husband forever.

I patiently explained that my husband and I get along much better when we don't share a house; when there are no expectations except explicit ones. That we both are nice people who had a great marriage and now it needs to take another form. That he and I will always be family, because of our kids. (My joke at the time was "Just like family - people you love but don't want to spend too much time with")

I told them how much happier I am, and that my husband must be too, without having me breathing down his neck about everything.

I espoused my theory that family doesn't have to mean man, wife, children, picket fence. That love and family are where you find them.

My so-called friends would listen, nod and agree. Then they'd reiterate how terrible this all was, and walk away and never call.

Initially, I was hurt. And thanks for the couple of besties who stuck around and listened to my fears and pain.

But these other friends; these (mostly) women who were married with kids; whose lives resembled my own - they backed away like I was contagious. They of all people should understand my frustration and lost dreams. Wouldn't they most be able to sympathize, to know the bad that outweighed the good in my marriage? We had previously listened and consoled each other as we moaned about husbands, households, kids. They best knew the frustrations of marriage and the times when you think I just can't take it anymore. They knew my marriage had been going downhill for years. Where were they now?

Hurt at the time, I didn't understand. I thought maybe they were sick of my depression and fears. I did avoid social situations, feeling like I didn't have much else to talk about. Divorce, like loss or illness, takes over your life for a while, and becomes the only topic.

Maybe it was my fault - I'm not the best at asking for help, or accepting it when it comes. I know there's a thin line between reaching out and uncommitted bitching*, so I'm always a little leery of over-sharing or of going on and on without action.

*Uncommitted complaining, as introduced to me by a Landmark course, is consistently complaining about a thing or situation without the faintest intention of ever doing a thing about it. It's the reason I had dropped a few friends over the years, once I realised that they had no intention of changing the things they bitched about the most. Bitching as a way of asking for help is one thing, but bitching just to complain and not admitting your own contribution to the situation is just annoying.

I was hurt at the time, but with the clarity of retrospective, I see that those whose situation most closely resembles my own are the ones who mostly disappeared. Those with unconventional relationships or attitudes stuck around.

A lot of people were shocked when I announced our separation. People thought we had an ideal marriage and were the best of friends. "Living the dream" had often been used by others to describe my marriage.

I think that when an outwardly great-seeming relationship breaks down, those who idealized it are shaken to the core. If a couple that seems so established breaks up, it casts doubt on their own marriage - is there hope? They turned away from me and huddled tighter, keeping the divorce demon from the door.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Six months ago

I can't believe it! I can't believe I'm actually here! In this life I visualized several years ago; nice house, loving family, self-actualized, joyful.

If I look back to where I was this time last year - even six months ago - I never would have guessed I'd be here in my life. Wow. It's actually been six months and three days since I said those fateful words, and who knew I would be here already? Sure it felt like a long time at the time, but looking back - as it always does - it seems rapid.

I love my life and while I am not sure what the future holds, it holds love and joy. For me and all of us. Everything we need.

Settling Down

We are settled already into our new home. Me and the kids. Love the close neighbors, the cute house, our lives. We are busy, social and active. Taekwondo takes over three days of our week. We swim, shop, clean, visit and play. The house is comfortable - very easy to live in.

I am loving my new life. The freedom, the joy.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

gliding

I can feel it - I am gliding into my new life. The easy downward slope has begun. It's time just to fade into the sunset of life; a lovely, gorgeous time of relaxed happiness.

In the course of this little adventure, I have learned to accept help. I have learned the importance of carving out time for myself, no matter what. The importance of living my life now.

I have learned that self-sufficiency is empowering, not scary. And possible.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Going nuts

I am getting antsy with the kids and me in his apartment. I know it's hard on everyone but I have no bedroom - no way to unplug. I feel trapped. A physical angst that pervades me right now. This physical closeness, no space to hang laundry, no support from X, who seems to have forgotten that he has children. He offers to take them every once in a while, but sees no need to cook for them, put them to bed, or do their laundry. He works, dines out and sometimes is here.

I know I am not being fair - I am ascribing intentions and motivations I have no way of possibly being privy to. I can't know what he's thinking and it's not my business anyway; the thoughts and intentions of others are outside of my control.

And so what if he is hiding out? He had his nice bachelor pad and we all moved in, with our baggage and our energy, our voices and our smells. He too is probably overwhelmed and exhausted.

I forgive him as I forgive myself. We are all part of the same humanity. One energy system links us all.

Counting days

Officially, it's thirteen days until we move in but they might leave a few days earlier. Which means... which means we can move in that much earlier! Yahoo. I cannot wait. I feel like a lottery winner. Who can believe I will live in that house? It's lovely. I've wanted that for years.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

returning home

Went to visit family for a couple of weeks, and returned back yesterday. The girls were a little bit off at bedtime because we were home but not home.

Where is your home when home is no longer home, and your old home has become somebody else's home? The new home awaits but until then we are stateless.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

funny

It's funny how much writing calms me down. In this time of so much upheaval and change, I get sometimes very worried about the future. What will I do? How will I survive? Will I be able to live the life I want?

It makes sense that I worry about my future - I am divorcing, moving (every three weeks), changing focus and approach in my work, trying to raise a family.

There's a lot of change. Many things in my life are unsure or new. It's natural for me to be aware of, and occasionally awed by my responsibilities, however I need to be careful that my natural concern doesn't grow into an anxiety attack.

When I catch myself heading down a thought path that is not useful, I remind myself about building a life I would love to look at. And I stop and ask myself, how do I want my life? How do I love to see myself? The answer's always the same - as a writer. I remind myself to go be a writer.

Because the answer to how do I get to be anything is to do it. Just do it. The details will take care of themselves.
~ ~ ~

I've learned to deal with the stuff of life - crazy stuff that happens and you just have to surrender and muddle through. Like divorce and the fire and min-reno, the bad townhouse and two-month gap between homes. It's all learning stuff and I'm glad I get to experience.

Boy I'll be glad when it's over.

Monday, June 28, 2010

New Horizons and other cliches

As I embark on my new life, I begin to see a new horizon. I begin to see how I have been holding myself back and how much. The power I have, the freedom. And now I have to use it. 

To smash up my life and build it anew is a trip. It's so much fun. It's scary and sad, scary and thrilling. Scary. Busy, time-consuming, energy sucking, relationship rebuilding. It's truth-in-the-mirror time. 

But the growth and insight - oh the spiritual growth. What I wrote twenty-five years ago holds true: "Contentment is the enemy of experience."

I've stood before myself, admitted to my crimes; to my weaknesses, lazinesses, lies and mistruths. I've admitted to all of my excuses, blusters and redirects. (I'm still working on projection - I don't always notice them and rarely catch myself doing it. But it's a new awareness; it will strengthen with practice.)   

I think I have finally found the reason of my existence! This journey, for me, is about love. I've read that holds true for most people - that the journey is about love. 

I had a lovely, love-filled Saturday for no particular reason. Maybe it was my previous evening's dinner with an old friend. I have watched this man transform from a brash frat boy to a wisening father. Once a golden young man, he is now transforming himself to an elder. He carries sadness as he branches out, but I think he is beginning to enjoy his new sense of himself. As we visited, I listened to him, possibly for the first time. Until then it's always been me waiting for him to stop so I could speak impressively. Friday night I saw his humanity. I felt love for an old friend.

Saturday was just as dreamy. At taekwondo class I felt the love of the master for what he does. I felt his love for the students, especially the gaggle of over-energized young men from the competition team. Their enthusiastic laziness, so typical of teenagehood, amuses me. They are goodhearted guys whose mamas are probably proud of them.

Later that afternoon, dropping my daughter off at a slumber party, I recognized the love of each family as they dropped off their kids. We're all different but we all love. And we love to be loved. 

Attack

I have terrible fears of being attacked in my house. By a stranger - a man who breaks in. Most of the fantasies are me trying to find an escape.

I hate when these fantasies pop into my head because I am loathe to entertain them or to grant them energy. They're scary and violent; not something I want to manifest even if only in my head. But these fantasies feel so important and are so insistent that I need to hear them out. I need to know if they hold a message and if so, what it is.

In an effort to resolve this, I decided to write about the fantasies. Doing so makes me nervous. I am terrified of manifesting violence towards myself.

Remembering that irrational fears often are signposts to unresolved issues within the personality or spirit, I wonder what within me so terrifies me.


-\\=|||=//-

Thursday, June 24, 2010

a life you love to look at

My sister sent me the words,
Eyes are about seeing your own life, so if your eyes are irritated perhaps you r irritated with what's currently in your life? Louise Hay's new thought pattern is "I now create a life I love to look at." I like that, it has such a peaceful, hopeful feel to it.
I love Louise Hay; her beauty and insight. What a lovely thought. And how wise.

I now create a life I love to look at is becoming a mantra for me; it resonates. I am guiding my life with this as a tool.

I am developing the habit of periodically checking and asking myself, Am I creating a life I love to look at? Sometimes the answer is that I am off-course, and that I need to change direction slightly, or drastically as the situation demands. And I make the adjustment, and I sail off again in the right direction. The more frequently I do this, the smaller the necessary alteration.

-:|:-

I'm sniffing all the neighborhood roses now. Some of the scents are amazing!

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

sleeping on the floor

...and loving it!

So the townhouse didn't work out. And my ex let us stay with him for the remainder of our wait for the permanent place. A friend lent me an inflatable mattress. I was set.

Unfortunately those mattresses are best enjoyed for a day or two; they're not for long-term use. Their structure and composition mean that the very part of my body which requires the most support receives the least, so my back's been talking to me. Nothing serious; just letting me know...

Last night I tried sleeping on a foam pad - the kind you take camping - on the floor. I awoke rested and energized. I didn't toss and turn, trying to get comfortable. My back is happy!

What's the lesson from this? Simple: often the simple solution is best. Occam's razor.

It's also a reminder to appreciate simple things; a good night's sleep, waking up happy. I learn that all those things I thought I needed - a firm king-size bed, designer lamp, heck even a private bedroom - are superfluous, so long as I have a firm floor and a home full of people I love.

Monday, June 21, 2010

coffee is a blessing

I am so blessed. It's early morning, no one else is awake - except the rabid soccer fans I just saw driving through the neighborhood, holding their flags out the window and honking ever so quietly.

So no sane people are awake.

I deflate my bed - am sleeping on an inflatable mattress these days. And plan to for the next six weeks as we camp out at the ex's, waiting for our new place. As I fold my beddings, I reflect on my poor back and what six weeks of inflatable mattress sleeping will do to it.

But now I am cosied up on the couch, drinking my morning coffee, listening to the sounds of a city waking up. A few cars, a couple in conversation walk by. Birds call to each other, baby birds yell for food. Somewhere a train rumbles.

I live in one of the world's most expensive cities. My health is great, my family is well, and our hypothetically not-nocturnal gerbil didn't wake me up. What more can I ask for?

I am blessed.

This time at the ex's has given me the chance to see him in his natural habitat. It's a chance for me to learn not to judge him. It's a chance to accept him.

As I begin loosening my grip; not trying to control everything, I have more time for myself. More time to write, more time to relax. I see that life continues even for those who don't wash their bedsheets every Saturday... that I can skip a day of hairwashing and life actually goes on as normal.

I am seeing new ways to live. New importances. New joys. I begin to really get the nuances of life. A year ago, I was pissed at my neighbors for parking in front of my house. (I know)

Now I am developing new focusses. A sense of me as a person; not as a mother, teacher or homeowner - all exterior designations. I'm pretty quiet, no one important, not someone who is greeted by maitre d's or invited to openings. (Well I am but I never go ;)

My life is small. Humble and unimportant. Yet as I write that, I know that my life is important to me. I may not impress others but I like my life and am glad I chose it. It's such a relief to give up the need for recognition; perversely, doing so allows me to excel.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

smelly miraculous abundance

Today I went for a long walk. As I wandered through neighborhoods I noticed lots of roses blooming in profusion along fences and over trellises. That makes sense - it's June. I've only recently come to appreciate roses, though, so being aware of them is new to me.

I was photographing a big yellow beauty at one house when the owner came out. We got to talking as she told me about the various breeds she cultivates. She had me smell one older variety - what an incredible odor! (In a good way ;)

I guess her neighbor heard me and came out with a clipped rose, offering it to me.

What abundance! What gifts! I held the beautiful scented big pink rose until the heat from my hand wilted it. I scattered the petals as I walked, throwing them up into the air, sending blessings of abundance to the world.  

nice surprises and lovingkindness

The ex holds no religious or spiritual beliefs; in fact is an avowed atheist (which I guess is a religious belief). I'm the one seeking, learning reading. If i were a joiner, I'd call myself a Buddhist.

Funnily enough, it's he who is exhibiting lovingkindness (a Buddhist ideal). Me and the kids moved into a townhouse for two months, as our new rental home is not available until August. The townhouse is awful - mouldy and damp.

Two lessons here: one, that I should listen to my gut, because I had a strongly negative emotional and physical response the first time I saw the place, but talked myself into renting it; and two, that he who claims to be an atheist may still exhibit lovingkindness.

Because he is letting us stay with him for most of the rest of the two months. We're a little crammed, and it's definitely affected his new bachelor lifestyle, yet he invited us in; even offered me his bed. The downside is that now I can't be mean, mad and bitchy at him. :)

Monday, June 7, 2010

Best Possible Outcome

We find a really cool way to have an amazing relationship.

I don't believe that divorce necessarily means hate and anger. I think it can be a way to reconfigure a relationship as opposed to just abandoning it.

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Banking

Sat at the bank for two hours today, setting up accounts, deleting joint accounts, reinvesting proceeds from the house sale. More than two hours; much of it airless.

Our accounts manager is a forty year old child. He's a man-child, gamer, fast on the keyboard. My ex needs to tell everyone that he used to work for that bank. Interesting. I already reached the point of being sick of my own stories, now I am sick of my ex's.

Seems the more we move our money around, the less of it we have. It's all paper to me anyway. None of it seems real. I do notice that I am calmer around money than I used to be. I have total faith that I can and will - and do - support my family in a lovely and spoiled manner. More than faith, I know. I feel it.

Saturday, May 29, 2010

New Views

Well, I'm moved in to the interim house - 2 months until our good house is available. I've moved. the old house is but a dream. already it is gone from my mind. i have no connection to it.

But maybe i have just cut off my feelings to survive. i am terrified and i am alone. i felt really scared in this new place, although i am already beginning to get used to it. i can feel the vibrations of the place. it's nice, although the upstairs neighbors are noisy. something i'll have to get used to - not being able to, or trying, to control my external environment.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Getting Along

It's been two weeks since he moved out. His move was fairly sudden, without a lot of warning. He had said he would begin to move his things, then transition to his new place. It all went down on a Saturday. Several of his friends and his parents showed up, commenced a flurry of activity, and he never slept here again. My eldest daughter sat outside reading; I assume to escape the upheaval inside. One thing about the S2BX (soon to be ex) is that when he does something it takes over the entire room or house. When he packed, boxes, tape and screwdrivers covered every surface of our home. He doesn't think about minimizing the effect on others - I truly think it doesn't cross his mind that others are affected.

So when he moved, he forgot to let the kids get involved; he didn't seem to think that it may affect them. He forgot to tell us that it was going to be a day of disruption.

It's like he can't operate in a different mode that involves the kids. I've seen this again and again, that when he wants to get something done, he can't manage it to allow the kids to help, which is of course what kids want to do.

But his move is done now, and already we get along better. The simple details of daily life, mood and relationship are no longer issues we have to contend with, and already I've found the friendship I used to feel for him.

My birthday was last week and we all went out for sushi. It was a lovely evening; he gave me a hug bouquet of flowers and gift card for a massage at the local day spa. We enjoyed our dinner then wandered over to his new place for a visit. Leaving him to walk home with the girls, I felt a pang of sadness. Sweet undefined sadness. I didn't want to think about it too much. I know why we separated, and am pretty sure we will never reconvene, but I also know what I like about him, and that I love him. We had to get divorced to save the relationship!

Upholding

I experienced a huge relaxation the other day - lazing in a hot bath, my jaw, throat and neck muscles relaxed, perhaps for the first time. I was shocked at how much they loosened, and realised how tightly I have been holding myself - literally holding myself up by the throat.

It's as if I have not trusted my back and abdominal muscles to do the job. I have been pulling myself upright and forward by the neck. I'm surprised I could speak. Or breathe.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

DON’T FREAK OUT

I keep reminding myself that millions of other people face much worse problems than me; that their stresses are way more difficult to solve than mine. But still, I’m freaking out. Last night I dreamt that the S2BX (soon to be ex) had already met someone and asked her for a date. In my dream I was outraged. I was upset, jealous, envious and fearful of never experiencing the same. I was less jealous romantically than I was about being the first to date.

Part of me will be embittered when he starts to date again, and it’s not my business. It’s exactly what I wanted – separation, divorce and separate lives except for the children. But I don’t want to get divorced – not in theory anyway. I want to have a partner, someone to love and thrive with. A guy who is golden and wonderful, full of love and able to access his heart. I love to be married, but I couldn’t stay in this one. In marriage you have to take the good with the bad, but this was a lonely marriage, and I saw no hope for improvement. He just isn’t there, emotionally, and often physically. I felt rejected over and over again. While he is a wonderful and interesting person, the tipping point came when the bad outweighed the good, and I had to leave to preserve my own mental and emotional wellbeing.

But last night I tossed and turned, waking at 5am and trying for hours to get back to sleep. Sleep wasn’t much better because I had those horrible dreams that included a pipe leaking into the toilet in my new temporary digs, the S2BX dating a young chef, me poor and unhappy.

Last night was Negative Night – I saw all, and only, the downside of starting my life as a single woman, mother of two. Who am I to think that I will be financially secure, emotionally healthy and able to pay my rent? Where the hell am I going to get money? Is it worse to get alimony and feel still his dependant, or not and be poor? What if I can’t pay the rent on my lovely new house? What if the temporary place has cockroaches or home-invaders? What if this pain in my breast turns out to be breast cancer, or the pain in my chest is heart problems? What if my thighs get more cellulite? Are my lips always so pursed? What if the kids need braces or university tuition, or become troubled and hang out in malls?

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Competitive


I’m starting to feel competitive against him now. Everything he gets, I want. I am jealous that he is out enjoying himself when he should be home hanging his head in shame because he never paid that special attention to his wife and kids. We got the spotlight shone on us. Or we did, but briefly.

I think competitiveness is part of the mourning process for a relationship. I don’t want him but I don’t want anyone else to want him either. I want him to realise what he lost. He doesn’t, and I know he doesn’t but I have no control over that. I know what he lost. 

What am I feeling? What am I doing?


Asking myself those questions brings it right back to my body. When I ask myself what am I experiencing physically, I pause, calm, and gain perspective.

For the last few weeks, I am trying to (remember to) focus on my physical sensation. I call it mindlessness. We all practice mindfulness and become so full of how mindful we are, yet what we need to do is practice mindlessness.

Sweeping with a dustpan and broom, yoga, mindless housecleaning – anything where you get lost in the action. Washing dishes, going for a walk, taking a bath, lazing at the beach.

I had learned the ancient way of returning to the breath but that is artificial to me. I run into the same issue when meditating. When we meditate we spend the time thinking about not thinking – trying to clear the mind, but using the mind to do so.

Why put so much effort into not-thinking, which then becomes an egoic exercise in the triumph of will (ego) over monkey mind (also ego). No wonder meditating with an empty mind is so difficult – it’s self-cannibalism. I get the same result – mindlessness, or the flow state – from folding laundry. It’s better actually because getting in the meditative state takes little to no effort when involved in mindless tasks, unlike sitting meditation which is no fun at all. For me it’s a chore, a trial. I’d much rather be moving, and so would my body.

Spiritual schools of thought which presuppose that doing things I don’t like is good for me is a little too close to those self-flagellating monks and their no pain, no spiritual gain approach to wisdom. I think god made us as physical beings and gave us pleasure as a guide. I think that when we are truly pleased – peacefully, with integrity – we are receiving guidance about who we are, what our role is here on earth, and how we can contribute and receive from the world. Michael Neill refers to it as a cosmic game of Warmer-Cooler. As we stay on our path or near it, we receive warmer and cooler clues, manifested through our bodies. Sexual pleasure is a real hot spot. People truly on their path have spontaneous orgasms.

The universe wants us to pay attention to our bodies. Returning to naming the physical sensations really and quickly grounds me. All I know is what my sense inputs are telling me. The rest is fabrication.

Staying grounded


I am living through my senses rather than a conceptualized reality.
I ask myself is it true? And is it true right this minute? I can't know if a thought is true; what is true for my physical reality right now?

Standing


This divorce ha been a good experience. I have been standing on my own two feet. I have forced myself to start living my life again. Previously I have been so angry, sitting around, worrying about my kids and hating Him. Full of spit.

Now I am once again my own woman and whether I live or die depends on me. That’s morbid – maybe sink or swim? Anyway, the way I live and how I live and where I live and what I do are now once again under my control. I visualize a serene, peaceful existence, full of love and yoga. 

Letting go


I can feel it slipping away from me – this sense of who I am. In a good way, I am shedding my identity. I cast off my stories, my grudges, my history. There is no more me from the past, no potential future me. I am here, now, safe and sound. That’s all I have. Here and now.

I keep asking myself what am I feeling right now? Not emotionally – physically. Name the sensory inputs I am receiving; how I am holding myself, where there is tension and relaxation. What do I smell, hear, touch? I scan my body, and that’s what calms me down.

I recently became aware of how much I held on to my stories, experiences, and expectations. I was mad at someone not only from when they did something wrong, but two hundred times over, as I relived it in my diary and for my friends. I held onto that sense of outrage as it propelled me toward separation and divorce. Ultimately the power of that outrage gave me the energy to be where I am now, so in one way it’s a good thing, but I also recognized the need to let it go now.

And just be simple me.

We’re having a bunch of technical issues, most fairly minor but seeming overwhelming at the time. We’ve had fire flood and, well never any famine here, but we’ve definitely had fire and flood. The house alarm is short-circuiting and a very old leak decided to reawaken after laying dormant our entire residency. In fact we knew nothing of the damage to the pipe and the leak it caused.

Communications are glitchy and a gig my S2BX (soon to be ex) thought he had seems to be slipping away. Weird things are happening to my teaching career.

A lot of change is happening at once, and in the past week was accompanied by all these weird little setbacks. I’m not sure what the messaging is here, but it helped me disconnect. My anxiety level was already high because of the divorce, the move, the selling of the house, lack of money etc. Then mechanical problems started happening and I panicked. Then they kept happening and realised I couldn’t panic at every event, and disconnected from their outcomes. What’s the worst that could happen? The house sale would fall through. Then we’d deal with that. Do I want the house sale to fall through? No, but now I see I kind of did – a part of me wanted to find love again in the arms of S2BX. Or at least some guarantees.

I realised the only guarantee life with him holds is the promise of more of the same. And I don’t want that. I don’t have be angry; I just need to be clear. And I am clear – I do not wish a romantic relationship with him. I do not wish to live with him. He’s a great guy – greater the less I see him.  

So I’m clear I want to leave, sell the house and live without him. I’ve done due-diligence with myself and confirmed. Being clear that I will leave means no need to worry about technical issues. Whatever happens I still get to divorce him. So the worst that can happen will be big financial headaches, or some other problem that eventually gets ironed out. Or not.

Regardless, this is my life, slipping away from me. I cannot waste a moment worrying about events I have no ownership in. No matter what happens in this life, we die. Life is like one giant Ikea ball room and when you’re done, you’re out, so you might as well make the most of it. I could sit pouting in the corner, but I could also choose to have a ball.

I have spent a lifetime being chastised by those who decided I was not taking life seriously, and that I needed to get better grades or make more money or buy government bonds or get married and take fatty acids supplements or eat/drink/have/drive/buy/cook more/less/fewer meat/alcohol/dairy/exercise/coffee/pot/protein-before-breakfast/sex/ dresses. I’ve had it! I’m done. This is my personal manifesto to myself. Self, I promise to honor you, obey you and do what’s best for you. I alone know what is right for me, and I alone govern my actions. God and the universe have directed me to be the way I am; to be otherwise is ungodly. Worse, it’s impractical.

AND I BELIEVE THAT THE UNIVERSE WILL SUPPORT ME.

My job is to write, and so long as I write, life will always support me. The other stuff is just stuff. Little aggravations and distractions are to be managed, and can possibly contain helpful messages. They are part of the warmer-colder game of life. As I get off-track, I receive ‘colder’ messages; as I realign, the message is ‘warmer’. The context of the annoyance can be meaningful, but don’t get too caught up in that parlour game of guess the meaning. If it’s not immediately obvious, something will come along to make it so. Have patience. If I don’t know the message, I just use the warning of being off-track to take time to check in with myself, which I do through writing, yoga, meditation. Or I walk or workout, read or soak. My body often knows better than my brain, and if I allow it, it will tell me. My body leads me through the day, and I follow its natural rhythms.

Knowing my gift, my work and my priorities makes it simple to keep my energy on the right things.

I have moments when I stop and smile and realise I get to live without him soon. And I can’t believe it, like a lottery winner I keep wondering if it’s actually true. So part of these tech issues may be me not accepting that I actually do get to leave, and that I will be fine on my own. Know when you’re scared to dream of that thing because you want it so badly and if it comes true your mind will blow? Well this is one of those things.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Essay Two: Air

Today I was washing the car and in a meditative frame of mind. I noticed myself becoming anxious when I washed the hubcaps. What’s this about I asked myself.

I’m afraid of touching the tires in case I pop them. I worry about having a flat tire. I worry about that out of proportion to all the other things I worry about.

I also have asthma. I’m afraid of running out of air.

I used to scuba dive but am anxious being underwater. I remember past deaths, and one of them, yes, included drowning. I remember stopping struggling and how relaxing that was. I let myself be peaceful. And drowning’s not bad, and dying’s not bad.

I felt the same giving up of the struggle when my first child was born. Labour was non-productive and became problematic. I passed out – completely out. I don’t think I was necessarily unconscious, but I was definitely in a different consciousness.

Running out of air is something I at once fear and seek. I say that I seek it because I think about it so much. Obsession means connection or lack of resolution. Even though I am thinking about it as something I hope doesn’t happen, I am directing energy toward it and thus will cause it to happen. Probably in a bid to prove to myself that I can handle it if does happen. It attracts and repels me.

There’s also the symbolism of air. In my life it stands for abundance – and how I always trust that there will be another breath to breathe. This is a lesson I can use right now. I can incorporate a sense of trust in the abundance and joy of life. If I think about it too critically, I can convince myself otherwise, but I know that’s not true. I know the world is an abundant loving place, but I’m in the habit of not thinking so. Now is the time to reprogram that habit.

Essay One: You Can’t Get Blood from a Stone

I was having lunch with my soon to be ex the other day and suddenly became aware that I not only don’t know this man; I feel like I never did. I had been fabricating my husband – this man bore little if any resemblance.

And this man who sat before me; well there’s no way this man could have given me what I want from a partner. He’s vastly different. This guy is just another man I know.

I would not choose this man to be my partner. While informative and somewhat interesting, his conversation did not attract me. This is not a man I would seduce, nor did his words seduce me.

Throughout this whole experience I am becoming much more selective about with whom and on what I direct my energies. I know I will always maintain relationship with this man, because he is the father of our children, but only because of that. He is not a man I wish to build a newly romantic relationship with.

Judging

I was walking behind someone yesterday and noticed myself admiring her yoga gear. And then thinking warmly of myself as a nice person for silently sending approval to the woman. 

But approving is still judging. I’m not talking about right and wrong, or good and bad. I’m talking about judgment, about being in other people’s business, about concerning ourselves with other people’s lives.

It’s one thing to see something and think I may get that for myself; but to feel better as a person because I approve of them – well that’s just arrogant.

Who cares whether I like someone else’s yoga set or not?

  

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Vision

Recently I noticed that something I had held in my vision as a possibility and a knowing, just came true.

Here’s the story:  when I sold my house and started looking for a new place, I knew exactly what I want. I can see it in my mind. It’s north-facing; a newish house, maybe a townhouse or duplex. We use the back as the main entrance. The couple of steps up from the ground-level back entrance opens through glass doors into a kitchen/eating area/family room space with tiled floors. Sun floods in the mostly-glass south wall. Ceilings are high; appliances are new and the stove is gas. It’s a fairly new house – about fourteen years old or less. Or is an older house that has recently been renovated. Windows are double-pane. The house is warm in the winter and hot in the summer. The rest of the main floor includes a half-bathroom, coatroom, and living room. Stairs lead up to the three bedrooms on the second floor. They are all nice with storage and windows. Upstairs is a full bathroom with a lovely tub, maybe even with a master en-suite. Outside is a yard with enough space for Calla’s swingset and sunny areas for both gardening and sunning myself. Parking is on-street. The house also contains a working washer and dryer. I do most of my writing and creative activities in the kitchen eating area. It’s bright and sunny and I love being there.

So how am I going to find this and how am I going to afford all this? Well in my mind I can clearly see that someone is going to live abroad for two years and wants me to rent their place for super-cheap, possibly utilities only. Eventually I will buy the house from them. I will love puttering about, gardening, relaxing and enjoying the girls. My writing and other creative activities will flourish and I will be supported by abundance resulting from those activities. So long as I keep learning, I will experience abundance.

How does this apply to miracles?
Well everyone I told my vision to said hah, nice dream; too bad it’s not reality.

Except one friend, that is. She just said “call Jeff – he’s moving to the Island for at least two years and wants someone to rent his house”.

I called – Jeff is thrilled to rent to someone he knows; it may all work out fine. Their house is not north-facing and it’s not a townhouse. Other than that, my vision is pretty similar.


Miracles

I have a lot of faith in the order of life, or god, or whatever you call it. I know that things all work out, and that it’s all good. Unfortunately however, I have a habit of fear. My go-to emotion is often fear, sometimes outright panic ;)  

I have seen miracles; I have heard of many more. I feel my guardian angel supporting me, keeping me safe. Looking back at my misspent youth, I owe that overworked angel a lot. Considering all the poor choices I made as a young adult, I am indeed lucky to be alive.

I used to want to believe that you make your own experience; that each day you can decide how it’s going to be. That any money you do or don’t have is all your choice; the same goes for career, health, love, etc.

I decided that I wanted to be a millionaire with a cool job and a great guy. I waited.

Nothing. I wished again, hoped it would happen.

Still nothing.

God helps those who help themselves, I reasoned, so I bought lottery tickets. 

Nada. Still wishing and waiting.

Scared

This morning I awake two hours before my alarm, soaked in sweat and sky-high anxiety. I am that scared little girl who wants to cry from fear. I want my dog, Eddie to come tell me it’s ok, but he’s dead. I want a big strong man to hold me and make it ok. I want guarantees and security. My stomach knots and I feel tears prickle my eyelids. 

I’ve been waking up early a lot lately. Usually if I put my head down I’ll go back to sleep, but not this morning. This morning is worse. I am more anxious.

Where’s my faith?

I get up, make a cup of tea, and go back to bed to write.

Wrong story

Woke up this morning with the awareness that while some of my friends are enjoying renos and holidays, I am starting over, concerned with subsistence. What a sad feeling –this is not supposed to be my life!

Fast-forwarding


In an instant I can move from my lovely warm house to poverty and devastation. My body’s in this house but my mind’s in a dark cold place.

I resolve to live in the minute.

I still live in a nice house and it’s a gorgeous spring day, the kind that makes you forgive a long dark winter, but I’m not here. I’ve fast-forwarded to the future, where I am poor, cold and damp. For good measure, I throw my ex into the fantasy. He’s living it up, sending his clothes out for laundering and enjoying the spectacular view from his funky apartment. He’s bringing a string of beauties through the door including one he’s known for years. They are giddy at finally being together after all the time he had to spend with ‘the witch’ (that’s me).

As I write this negative fantasy, my reflection frowns back at me from my monitor. I look saggy, wrinkly and harsh.

I must live in the present.

Why would I do this – fast forward to a negative future? Why would I be so mean to myself when I can be loving and supportive to others? I tell my friend she is a vibrant intelligent woman. Almost the same age as me, she is amazing and attractive – definitely a catch. Why am I old and dried up?

I am fit, funny, loving, intelligent, hard-working and creative, so why do I assume I will fail? Why do I see only a minimum-wage future, subsistence living? Why do I naturally assume the ex will live it up? Why would he have a great lifestyle and I be poor?

The sun shines on every street. I love plants and flowers, sitting in the sun. Reading and writing make me happy. I have friends and family who support me and guide me. My needs are fairly simple and available anywhere, so why would I do this to myself? What right do I have to be so mean to myself?

Most mornings lately, I wake up this way. After a few hours I can muster my optimism, but this fear seems a natural state; I seem to return to it each night. I don’t remember much of my dreams, but those I do seem not too negative. What’s my brain doing?

And why, in the face of such support, am I so fearful? Why can’t I tell myself the same things I believe about others? Do I need to retrain my subconscious? 

Thursday, April 8, 2010

The Stress of Stress

I am not feeling a lot of faith and trust this morning. I awoke at 5 this morning, worrying if I should take the bird in the hand, or the better one in the bush. There is a house available that is ok. It could be cute, with a good clean and a paint job. It’s more space than we need, and right at the top of our budget. It’s a little old, single-pane windows, and darkish. The house in the bush is not yet confirmed as within my budget, and is not available until two months after our move-out date; however it’s much nicer, new windows and a renovated kitchen. I prefer it.

So I am anxious all night, then the where will we live anxiety morphs into how will I get money. And how will I ever afford all this? And then my brain goes so far as to remind me that it wasn’t actually terrible living with the ex. But then I remember, yes it was – I felt trapped, occasionally entertained thoughts of suicide, and wished for him not to be in my home. I even hoped he would die so that I would be free and wealthy (his life insurance).

Even when I talk myself down, I am stressed. I can feel my gut constrict, and I want to not feel this way. I want to distract myself through one method or another – busy-ness, exercise, food, tv, drugs (alcohol, caffeine, sugar), or sleep; in short anything to take my mind off.

So now I have my initial stress, compounded by the stress resulting from fighting my stress. I think that I shouldn’t be feeling this way. Fighting the way I feel is just another layer of anxiety.

And why shouldn’t I be anxious? Why wouldn’t I feel stress right now? Sure, my inner spirit has eternal knowledge, faith and trust, but my lesser me; the pedestrian part of my soul that was schooled here on earth and believes all that negative nonsense – that part of my brain thinks the unknown is scary, that change is dangerous, and that this must be a negative experience.

It’s perfectly natural for me to be stressed. Sure, it’s also a sign that I am not completely highly evolved, but there it is. I am stressed.

Fighting that stress is ridiculous – now I am stressed and not allowing myself to be that way. I am not only experiencing the emotions and reactions fairly typical of this event; now I’m making myself wrong for feeling them. So I’m doubling the stress, where there needn’t be any.

It’s a bit of a trick, managing negative emotions that I know I don’t need to experience. I must at once accept that I feel this way, while reminding myself that it needn’t be this way. I have to parent myself, just like when one of my kids is upset. In those situations, I have no right to tell them not to feel a certain way. I won’t invalidate their emotions; instead I comfort them, listen to them, help them place the event in perspective, and then allow them to feel whatever they are feeling. Telling them they are wrong for being upset is not useful.

I need to do the same with myself – comfort myself, tell myself it’s perfectly natural to feel this way, remind myself that all this will pass, and that Life always comes through, often in surprising ways.  

On ending a Relationship

I spent about seven years investigating ways to make my marriage successful. I looked at how to change him, to change myself, to alter our dynamic. I worried, cried, and journalled. I read, watched and listened to all manner of psychology, self-help, advice and spirituality. I listened to psychics, therapists and talk-show hosts. I found meaning in others’ opinions of us as a couple. I had my tarot read, and learned to meditate. I went to church. I took up yoga. I know my chakras.

I’m pretty sure I tried everything. Nowadays I rarely read relationship advice, opinions or news that is new to me. I am as familiar with Family Systems theory as I am with Jungian analysis and downward facing dog. I am acquainted with psychic diagnosis and intuitive healing. I have felt physical movement unblock emotions. I have meditated, prayed and dreamt.

All this activity and acquisition of the opinions of others (my definition of education) gave me confidence. A lot of this material is self-evident, for example: while happiness is always within your control, some relationships make it harder to be happy. Seems obvious, no?

Some of the ideas became self-evident only after someone pointed them out to me – for example, you cannot change another person, so you must deal with your own thoughts and actions. Or how about this, from Ann Landers: if you knew how little people thought of you, you wouldn’t worry how little people think of you. It’s one of my favorites. To me it means that we are all so caught up in our own story that others are but a passing blip. Put another way, no one thinks you more important than themself.

I have discovered the freedom of giving up attachment to the good opinions of others. I clarified my values and found my moral and spiritual center. I know what I am good at, what’s important to me and how I work.

Seven years, first trying to get sweetie to see his wrongness and change. Moving from unspecified feelings of discontent to disappointment, through anger to education, I was on a roller coaster ride of emotion, physicality and learning.

Once I graduated from How can I fix him? to What changes do I want to make in my own life?, life got easier. I wasn’t always at peace – often far from it – but I at least focused my efforts on myself. Trying to change another is like trying to stop the wind; just not possible. A person may choose to change based on input received from you, but you’ll never change someone; only they can do the changing.

As mentioned, I absorbed every bit of advice I could find, including tv hosts. To quote Doctor Phil, “you have to earn your way out of a relationship”. What does that mean?

I take it to mean that if things are not good, you don’t get to walk away throwing your hands in the air saying well I tried. No, just as when you leave a job or apartment, you have to give notice and stay in that job or home until the appointed time. Relationships are like that, especially if you have children. It should be really hard to walk away. 

What if you entered any new relationship with the knowledge that if you want to end the relationship, before you can leave there is a certain amount of time you would have to put into making it work, say 30% of the time you have already been together. If you’ve been together a year, then you have to spend four months trying to fix yourself and see if that positively affects the relationship. If, after four months of true effort, you see no improvement in the relationship, then it’s time to move on.

Embarrassed as I am to admit it, I agree with Dr. Phil. ;)

What earning my way out of my relationship did for me was to give me the confidence that I am doing the right thing, not just for me but for my kids, and even my ex, although his life is his business, not mine.

It also gave me the knowledge that I have tried everything. I don’t worry that I didn’t try hard enough or look at all the options. I will never look back and regret my actions. I put enough time in to fixing this relationship, spending more years in it than I may have wished, but at least I can always say I didn’t leave prematurely. For the kids, I gave it my best shot, all I could. It was only when it became apparent that I would lose my health if I stayed, that I knew it was time to go. I will always be able to look my kids straight in the eye and tell them I made the best choices for me and them.

Earning my way out my relationship gave me the chance to grow, mature and soften. I became aware that us not working as a married partnership is not his fault (yes it is ;) I see our relationship not as failed but as changing. We have to live apart in order to have a successful relationship.

We are great co-parents, good friends, and will always be family. He’s a good guy; funny articulate and smart. His creativity inspires me. Like a magician, he develops something wonderful out of thin air. He’s a very good cook, has taught me how to cook and opened my eyes to wonderful cuisines I didn’t know existed. He’s introduced me to food styles at restaurants where I would have had no idea what to order.

So basically he’s a good guy. Earning my way out of our relationship allows me to see his wonderfulness, and appreciate him as a person. Because I don’t have to hold on to anger or blame as a way to shore up my sense of guilt, and because I don’t need the extra boost of energy to make me brave enough to walk away from a more secure lifestyle, I can step out in freedom and clarity.

Earning my way out of my marriage has given me peace.