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.

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?

  

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? 

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.

Blessings

Blessings seem far away this morning. I feel fear. I am now facing the reality of leaving my husband. Seeing a small dark house doesn’t make me too happy. I always have my head in the clouds, expecting a fantasy. But today I feel a little down. I awoke at 5.30 this morning, wondering how I would get through this all, hoping not to starve or live in a bucket.

Then I get an email from Debbie Ford, a philosopher who runs coaching programs. I am reminded by her sweet words to have faith and trust. Also that I get a lot of choice in life and that life will give me what I focus on, so I might as well focus on good stuff! I’ve realised the future is a fantasy, so I might as well fantasize a fabulous future – it might happen!

And that life is funny – it likes to throw us a curve ball once in a while. I may worry about bad, when great is just around the corner! Make myself ready and do all that I have under my control – do the writing, praying, meditating, taking care of myself. Show love, creativity, curiosity.

Abundance and the Laundry Tub

I had a little lesson in abundance the other day. Our house has recently sold. I plan to live off the profits for three years while I write my book. I know there is enough money and have been working on trust and faith. I’ve made great inroads too – no more middle of the night panic attacks; no doubting my abilities or direction. And yet, when the house did sell I regressed to an anxious state of what if lawyer’s fees and realtor commissions eat up all my money? …. what if I have to pay huge amounts of tax? What if what if.

I was as anxious about having money as I was about not having money. And I concerned myself with hanging onto that abundance.

The universe has shown me – about a million times – that it supports what I am doing and the path I am on. The universe wants me to write and so long as I keep doing that I am fine. 

So why stress out? It was more of a relapse to a previous way of being, where life is hard and nothing comes easy. I wanted to hold on to my money; not trusting the universe to keep it flowing into my life.

So how does this involve the titular laundry tub?

In my life water often symbolizes abundance. Water from the washing machine drains into the laundry tub, and drains from there. The very day the sale was official, that sink’s drain got a little plugged and drained very slowly, while more water from the washer flowed in to the sink. Of course the sink overflowed (just a bit – luckily I was there). I toweled up the overflow and unplugged the drain, which gave me the chance to ponder what happens when we hold on to abundance instead of allowing it to flow in and out of our lives. Too much abundance can be as destructive as too little. Just enough is just right, and we need to develop our trust in life to flow just enough abundance into our lives.

Here’s to the laundry sinks of our lives.