Ah, New Year's Eve. An evening that used to necessitate copious amounts of alcohol and almost always end in some form of disappointment. Not this year. This year, I'm all about being with what is.
I started the morning with my kids, and then took them to their Dad's and went off to the gym to go for a run and do some yoga. After that, I went to a coffee shop to do some consulting work and contemplated my options for the evening. Which, in terms of social offerings, were admittedly pretty limited. I'd been invited to a 5:30pm run downtown that ended with beers at a brew pub. But the temperature didn't even reach 10 degrees today, and while I know and like one of the people who was going to be there, it just didn't seem like the thing for me this evening.
I've been wanting to see a couple of movies, and have put the call out to a few friends, not just for tonight but in general -- hey, wanna see a movie -- and I've gotten no takers. I'm not sure how I got here, to this point where I'm feeling pretty socially isolated, but here I am. I know two of my main people moved away in 2013, but it's feeling obvious to me now that I let my circle get too small.
So I took myself to a movie. On New Year's Eve. It took a lot of strength to face seeing people there -- couples, families -- and I knew I would. Madison is a small town and I know a lot of people, even if I don't know a lot of them well. I did my best to channel my dead Nana, who liked to see movies by herself.
Whatever discomfort I was feeling went away when American Hustle started playing. What a phenomenal movie. There was so much to love about it, but most of all, I loved Jennifer Lawrence, and the scene where she sings and dances to this song with her kid watching is absolutely priceless:
When you were young
And your heart was an open book
You used to say, "Live and let live"
(You know you did, you know you did, you know you did)
But if this ever-changing world in which we're livin'
Makes you give in and cry
Say live and let die
Live and let die
Live and let die
Live and let die
What does it matter to ya, when you've got a job to do, you gotta do it well
You gotta give the other fellow Hell
You used to say, "Live and let livin'"
(You know you did, you know you did, you know you did)
But if this ever-changing world in which we're livin'
Makes you give in and cry
Yes, sometimes this ever-changing world in which we live in makes me give in and cry. Quite often, actually. And I think that's ok. What I think needs adjusting in my life is the size of my bubble. It's true that I've been through a lot, and I tend to keep people at bay, except for a select few. And look where it's gotten me -- alone at a movie on NYE.
Thank god for Jennifer Lawrence. She made those two hours some of the most delicious I've ever spent, with or without a companion:
Say, live and let die
Live and let die
Live and let die
Live and let die
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Monday, December 30, 2013
What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger
After my 90 days of yoga experiment, I made a commitment to myself to stay with my practice as much as possible. Specifically, one of my weekly fitness goals is four hours of practicing yoga, and this means that sometimes I have to practice even when I don't feel like it. I know this is the point of discipline, and I know that it has a purpose, but I also know it can be extremely uncomfortable.
The other day during a particularly hard practice, our pet rabbit pooped on my mat. Yep, I told her, that's exactly how I'm feeling about being here today. My body felt really stiff, so stiff it was hard to do the poses. Eventually, as often happens, I had an opening, in the form of tears, and I experience a much-needed release.
Not so today. I didn't want to practice, I fought it every step of the way, but I did it. For 60 minutes. But I never reached the point of any release, which felt particularly difficult.
Speaking of things that feel difficult, I've recently reconnected with the man I spent three years loving and the last six months trying to get over, which has caused me to reflect on that six months. I remember feeling like I might die if I didn't get to be with him, that I might die if he were to be with someone else. (I'm not being dramatic, I'm trying to explain the strength and depth of my feelings about this.)
But I didn't die. Instead, I emerged with the understanding that there are things I settled for in my last relationship that I'm not going to settle for again, whether with him or with someone else. And I reached a point where I knew I was going to be ok, with him or without him, even if he ends up with someone else.
Kelly Clarkson's wildly overplayed song seems to be the one to mark this day, though it's not a perfect fit by any means. Because while I remember times I sang these words over the last six months with the same bitterness in my voice that she has in hers:
You know the bed feels warmer
Sleeping here alone
You know I dream in color
And do the things I want
And while I do recognize that there are some perks to being single, I'm not going to go all the way to saying the bed feels warmer sleeping alone. It most definitely does not.
But I do think she has a point with her chorus -- it certainly is true of the growth that came for me from a devastating breakup:
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone
What doesn't kill you makes a fighter
Footsteps even lighter
Doesn't mean I'm over 'cause you're gone
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stronger
Just me, myself and I
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone
I'm mostly ok with being alone. I'm only lonely once in a while. But as I contemplate the year about to begin, I'm not feeling like I'll be spending so much time alone...
The other day during a particularly hard practice, our pet rabbit pooped on my mat. Yep, I told her, that's exactly how I'm feeling about being here today. My body felt really stiff, so stiff it was hard to do the poses. Eventually, as often happens, I had an opening, in the form of tears, and I experience a much-needed release.
Not so today. I didn't want to practice, I fought it every step of the way, but I did it. For 60 minutes. But I never reached the point of any release, which felt particularly difficult.
Speaking of things that feel difficult, I've recently reconnected with the man I spent three years loving and the last six months trying to get over, which has caused me to reflect on that six months. I remember feeling like I might die if I didn't get to be with him, that I might die if he were to be with someone else. (I'm not being dramatic, I'm trying to explain the strength and depth of my feelings about this.)
But I didn't die. Instead, I emerged with the understanding that there are things I settled for in my last relationship that I'm not going to settle for again, whether with him or with someone else. And I reached a point where I knew I was going to be ok, with him or without him, even if he ends up with someone else.
Kelly Clarkson's wildly overplayed song seems to be the one to mark this day, though it's not a perfect fit by any means. Because while I remember times I sang these words over the last six months with the same bitterness in my voice that she has in hers:
You know the bed feels warmer
Sleeping here alone
You know I dream in color
And do the things I want
And while I do recognize that there are some perks to being single, I'm not going to go all the way to saying the bed feels warmer sleeping alone. It most definitely does not.
But I do think she has a point with her chorus -- it certainly is true of the growth that came for me from a devastating breakup:
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone
What doesn't kill you makes a fighter
Footsteps even lighter
Doesn't mean I'm over 'cause you're gone
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stronger
Just me, myself and I
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone
I'm mostly ok with being alone. I'm only lonely once in a while. But as I contemplate the year about to begin, I'm not feeling like I'll be spending so much time alone...
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Atlas
 |
| Exploring the frozen tundra |
Then we headed out for a rather cold, but awesome walk to Sundance to take in the movie version of the second book in The Hunger Games trilogy, Catching Fire.
The song to mark this day is the one that was playing as the credits rolled, a song that Coldplay wrote just for Katniss and friends:
Some saw the sun
Some saw the smoke
Some heard the gun
Some bent the bow
Sometimes the wire must tense for the note
Caught in the fire, say oh
We're about to explode
Carry your world, I'll carry your world
Carry your world, I'll carry your world
Some far away
Some search for gold
Some dragon to slay
Heaven we hope is just up the road
Show me the way, lord, 'cause I... I'm about to explode
Carry your world, I'll carry your world
Carry your world, I'll carry your world
Carry your world, and all your hurt.
As for me, I'm learning slowly that I can't carry anybody's world and all their hurt, not even my kids'. It's a tough lesson but an important one, because if we carry too much for others, we both rob them of the opportunity for growth and rob ourselves of some of our own vitality.
Lighten your load, yes. But carry your world? Nope. Not anymore...
Saturday, December 28, 2013
The Mother We Share
When I saw the forecast last night I decided that this morning would be a good time for a long run. Temps were in the 30s and the sun was shining brightly as I headed out the door accompanied by Slacker, which was playing the 50 best Alt/Indie songs of the year. What a great way to discover new music!
The last time I'd done this 8 mile route to picnic point and back was in the summer, and it was definitely a different experience running on the snow-covered path out to the point. Usually that's the easiest part of the run since the ground is soft -- today it was the hardest because of the snow.
This song came on while I was on the snow-covered path, contemplating the stark changes of the seasons:
This song came on while I was on the snow-covered path, contemplating the stark changes of the seasons:
Never took your side, never cursed your name
I keep my lips shut tight, until you go-o-oh
We've come as far as we're ever gonna get
Until you realize, that you should go-o-oh
I'm in misery where you can seem as old as your omens
And the mother we share will never keep your proud head from falling
The way is long but you can make it easy on me
And the mother we share will never keep our cold hearts from calling
I don't know what the song is really about, but I heard the mother we share as Earth:
I don't know what the song is really about, but I heard the mother we share as Earth:
In the dead of night, I'm the only one here
And I will cover you, until you go-o-oh
And if I told the truth, I will always be free
And keep a prize with me, until you go-o-oh
I'm in misery where you can seem as old as your omens
And the mother we share will never keep your proud head from falling
The way is long but you can make it easy on me
And the mother we share will never keep our cold hearts from calling
Until the night falls, we're the only ones left
I bet you even know, where we could go-o-oh
And when it all fucks up, you put your head in my hands
It's a souvenir for when you go-o-oh
I'm in misery where you can seem as old as your omens
And the mother we share will never keep your proud head from falling
The way is long but you can make it easy on me
And the mother we share will never keep our cold hearts from calling
Friday, December 27, 2013
All I Want Is You
I was the only one in the office today, so I put on a little music to keep me company. Hearing this song was like hearing from an old friend:
You say you want diamonds on a ring of gold
You say you want your story to remain untold
But all the promises we made
From the cradle to the grave
When all I want is you
You say you'll give me a highway with no one on it
A treasure just to look upon it
All the riches in the night
You say you'll give me eyes in a world of blindness
A river in a time of dryness
A harbour in the tempest
But all the promises we make
From the cradle to the grave
When all I want is you
You say you want your love to work out right
To last with me through the night
You say you want diamonds on a ring of gold
Your story to remain untold
Your love not to grow cold
All the promises we break
From the cradle to the grave
When all I want is you
What an amazing song. I was talking today to a friend about how amazingly strong the fixation on wanting to be with someone can be when we're in the midst of it. It feels like it is worth any price, and it can cause us to do things we might not otherwise imagine ourselves doing. It's difficult, when you're in it, to get much perspective on it, and up until sometime this fall, I was definitely in it:
You
All I want is...you
All I want is...you
All I want is...you
These last six months, I was given a choice: use my broken heart to become bitter and closed, or allow it to open me, to teach me, to ask what's next for me to learn. I chose the latter, and I managed to reach a space where I honestly don't know who I want, because I just want to be with the person who is most able to help me be the best version of myself I can be. I don't know now, but I do trust that it will be revealed before too long...
You say you want diamonds on a ring of gold
You say you want your story to remain untold
But all the promises we made
From the cradle to the grave
When all I want is you
You say you'll give me a highway with no one on it
A treasure just to look upon it
All the riches in the night
You say you'll give me eyes in a world of blindness
A river in a time of dryness
A harbour in the tempest
But all the promises we make
From the cradle to the grave
When all I want is you
You say you want your love to work out right
To last with me through the night
You say you want diamonds on a ring of gold
Your story to remain untold
Your love not to grow cold
All the promises we break
From the cradle to the grave
When all I want is you
What an amazing song. I was talking today to a friend about how amazingly strong the fixation on wanting to be with someone can be when we're in the midst of it. It feels like it is worth any price, and it can cause us to do things we might not otherwise imagine ourselves doing. It's difficult, when you're in it, to get much perspective on it, and up until sometime this fall, I was definitely in it:
You
All I want is...you
All I want is...you
All I want is...you
These last six months, I was given a choice: use my broken heart to become bitter and closed, or allow it to open me, to teach me, to ask what's next for me to learn. I chose the latter, and I managed to reach a space where I honestly don't know who I want, because I just want to be with the person who is most able to help me be the best version of myself I can be. I don't know now, but I do trust that it will be revealed before too long...
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Feeling of Being
 |
| The winter wonderland I skied through today |
The movie I watched was recommended by a friend. It wasn't easy to watch at times -- it was about a little girl whose parents were hopeless at taking care of her -- but it was a good film and the last song in the soundtrack was this pleasant little number:
Bet you if you sink
You'd swim a little further
And I bet you if you cried
You'd understand me better
So I take a little time just sailing down the river
And I'm throwing out my line to see if I can catch the
Feeling of being
How still the night
Feeling of being
One little light
That's exactly what it feels like I've been doing these past six months. Getting better acquainted with the feeling of being, and with my one, but not-so-little, light. It hasn't been easy, but I've learned a lot about myself.
Where I go from here, I don't know. It feels scary to contemplate going back to a world where I allow myself to be vulnerable in a relationship again, especially after all the pain I've been through:
Wonder if we ever really know each other
And I wonder if we ever find out what were after
And the truth of it is were both winding down the river
And if you could only let go,
Find the hidden silver and the
Feeling of being
How still the night
Feeling of being
One little light
But I reckon that's where the hidden silver is -- in loving someone. The trick is how to hold on to the feeling of being, how to hold on to one's own light, even as we allow others' in...
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
All I Want for Christmas
While my kids and I were hanging out in the living room this Christmas Eve, this song came on Pandora:
I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas
Is you, you yeah
It may seem like a funny song for a single girl to choose to mark Christmas Eve, but truly, there's nothing in my whole life I ever wished harder for than children, and I couldn't be more grateful for the ones I get to call my own:
I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
And I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I don't need to hang my stocking
There upon the fireplace
Santa Claus won't make me happy
With a toy on Christmas Day
I reckon the new year will bring a man I'll want to find under the mistletoe:
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas is you
You baby
Oh, I won't ask for much this Christmas
I won't even wish for snow
And I'm just gonna keep on waiting
Underneath the mistletoe
But for now, there's no one in particular I'm dreaming about being here with me tonight:
I won't make a list and send it
To the North Pole for Saint Nick
I won't even stay awake to
Hear those magic reindeer click
'Cause I just want you here tonight
Holding on to me so tight
What more can I do?
Baby all I want for Christmas is you,
You Baby
Oh, all the lights are shining
So brightly everywhere
And the sound of children's
Laughter fills the air
So it's off to sleep for me now, so I can get up early and enjoy Christmas morning with my kids...
I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas
Is you, you yeah
It may seem like a funny song for a single girl to choose to mark Christmas Eve, but truly, there's nothing in my whole life I ever wished harder for than children, and I couldn't be more grateful for the ones I get to call my own:
I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
And I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I don't need to hang my stocking
There upon the fireplace
Santa Claus won't make me happy
With a toy on Christmas Day
I reckon the new year will bring a man I'll want to find under the mistletoe:
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas is you
You baby
Oh, I won't ask for much this Christmas
I won't even wish for snow
And I'm just gonna keep on waiting
Underneath the mistletoe
But for now, there's no one in particular I'm dreaming about being here with me tonight:
I won't make a list and send it
 |
| Here we are! Christmas 2013 |
I won't even stay awake to
Hear those magic reindeer click
'Cause I just want you here tonight
Holding on to me so tight
What more can I do?
Baby all I want for Christmas is you,
You Baby
Oh, all the lights are shining
So brightly everywhere
And the sound of children's
Laughter fills the air
So it's off to sleep for me now, so I can get up early and enjoy Christmas morning with my kids...
Sunday, December 15, 2013
Border Line
 |
| The view from above the clouds between Wisco and Colorado |
My latest trip took me to Denver to visit a successful network of charter schools and a couple of friends who live in the area, followed by a weekend in Boulder with some other friends.
The last time I was in Colorado, I was with my last boyfriend. As I recall, we weren't at an easy place in our relationship, but we connected once we were in the mountains, likely because the man I was dating was much more able to be present in that topography.
The night before I left on this trip, I had a bad dream about him. He was wearing a mask, and I told him I could see that he was, and would he please take it off, and he snapped at me. I felt sad when I woke up, and I felt sad on the plane, too. This letting go process sure has a lot of layers.
 |
| Fire trail, Chautauqua, Boulder |
I decided to go for a trail run. As I headed up the path, I felt glad to be there under such a magnificent blue sky, and glad to be able to, at least in some form, play in the mountains, but I also missed my playmate.
I stopped along the way a few times to continue to release the sadness that I felt, which was pretty cathartic. I tried to tell the universe that I'd appreciate it if it would send me another playmate, but not surprisingly, there was no immediate response.
On the way home on the plane, I read an article in the New Yorker about a young British artist who is described as being like Tom Waits, and I was intrigued. His name is even Archy (though he spells it in kind of a funny way).
This song seemed to sing some of the pain I got in touch with on my journey to the mountains:
 |
| Skunk Canyon, Boulder |
My feelings just can’t discard
The way in which I fell into
Your heart was never what I once knew
Lately my skull has kept
Dividing lines deep set and paved
Two paths too wander through to depart
And sever desires to pursue
And the soul chokes
To cause the tide
To enforce divide
This whole devotion has morphed in time
I’ll escort her mind to solve my crimes
Reach slow motion to con the mind
See here I trace my steps
To where my senses left
And rain had turned my sense to mush
This slowly seeping straight through the crust
Now let these stains of gunk slip down
To where my head once sunk and drowned
Just await for a while to see
My body has merged to the deep krule sea
But my soul floats
Adrift thoughtless minds, distorted lines
The soul is broken down, borderlines
To cause the tide, to enforce divide
This whole devotion has morphed in time
I'll say. And the lines, they're drawn:
So scorn divine and mourn the pride
The cold has spoken, draw the line
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Drunken Lullabies
For the last several weeks, whenever I'm driving in my car, I've been listening to Angela's Ashes on CD. It's a book I've had on my bookshelf for years, but just hadn't gotten around to reading it.
I'm glad I waited so that the author, Frank McCourt, could read it to me in his Irish accent -- I'm loving his graphic and at once depressing and uplifting recounting of his impoverished Irish childhood.
Talk about finding love in a hopeless place -- the book bears witness to the agony of having a drunk father:
Must it take a life for hateful eyes
To glisten once again
Five hundred years like Gelignite
Have blown us all to hell
What savior rests while on his cross we die
Forgotten freedom burns
Has the Shepard led his lambs astray
to the bigot and the gun
Must it take a life for hateful eyes
To glisten once again
Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess
Singin' drunken lullabies
...who does indeed sing drunken lullabies, but also captures the humanity of said father (and the rest of the family) in a really lovely way.
Every time I listen to it, I feel both grateful for what I have and what I'm able to offer my children, and for books' capability of transporting us to a different time and place and teaching us lessons through the power of storytelling...
I'm glad I waited so that the author, Frank McCourt, could read it to me in his Irish accent -- I'm loving his graphic and at once depressing and uplifting recounting of his impoverished Irish childhood.
Talk about finding love in a hopeless place -- the book bears witness to the agony of having a drunk father:
Must it take a life for hateful eyes
To glisten once again
Five hundred years like Gelignite
Have blown us all to hell
What savior rests while on his cross we die
Forgotten freedom burns
Has the Shepard led his lambs astray
to the bigot and the gun
Must it take a life for hateful eyes
To glisten once again
Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess
Singin' drunken lullabies
...who does indeed sing drunken lullabies, but also captures the humanity of said father (and the rest of the family) in a really lovely way.
Every time I listen to it, I feel both grateful for what I have and what I'm able to offer my children, and for books' capability of transporting us to a different time and place and teaching us lessons through the power of storytelling...
Sunday, December 8, 2013
We Found Love
 |
| My wingman for my return to wildness |
I went out there for a conference for work, and Friday night I had a working dinner to go to in the evening. But I had Saturday night free from 5pm on, so I made a plan to go to a yoga class at a studio I visited last time I was in town and then meet up with a friend for dinner.
I left the choice of restaurant in his hands and as it turned out, that meant we didn't have a plan. We wandered the streets, and wound up at a tapas place he'd heard about but never tried. It was packed and it seemed to take forever to get a seat and get our food, but I was happy to be in such a hip and happening place, so I didn't mind too much.
After dinner, my friend talked me into going dancing at a little dive bar in Columbia Heights. The music was great, with some songs from my dancing heyday (which is now nearly 20 years ago) and some from more current artists, like this number from Rihanna:
We found love in a hopeless place
We found love in a hopeless place
We found love in a hopeless place
We found love in a hopeless place
My friend and I took full advantage of the dance floor, and it felt good to let go in a way I haven't for a while:
Shine a light through an open door
Love and life I will divide
Turn away cause I need you more
Feel the heartbeat in my mind
It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny
But I've gotta let it go
And yes, the night included a couple of connections with boys, which a single girl like me could enjoy without guilt:
We found love in a hopeless place
 |
| Nice garland! (acquired on dance floor) |
We found love in a hopeless place
We found love in a hopeless place
But love? Nope. Not likely on a DC dance floor, especially not the love I'm looking for in my life. So it was back to the hotel for me, resting up as much as I could for the conference the next day.
It was a long day of traveling home today with all the crazy weather, and I was reminded of all the reasons I usually choose kombucha over alcohol and prioritize sleep over dancing.
But for me, touching that space, unleashing that wild girl, is kind of like working a muscle you don't work very much really hard one day -- you always feel it the next day, and it hurts a little, but more than that, the twinge reminds you of your strength and vitality...
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Desire
This song has been playing in my head the past couple of days, ever since I started pondering what it means for me to move into a space where I can miss my ex without feeling bad about it. I asked myself what it is I miss, and part of it is him. The person with whom I fell in love and all the reasons I did. And that's ok. I still miss my first love, too. I still miss things about him now, 23 years after we dated. It doesn't get me down, though, it's even sort of semi-pleasant.
And now to what inspired the song:
Yeah
Lover, I'm on the street
Gonna go where the bright lights
And the big city meet
With a red guitar, on fire
Desire
Yes, the other thing I really miss about my last boyfriend and our relationship is being desired and desiring someone. Maybe because that really was my first relationship where desire got separated from the icky stuff it was attached to when I was a young girl, so I could finally just enjoy it:
She's a candle burning in my room
Yeah I'm like the needle, needle and spoon
Over the counter with a shotgun
Pretty soon everybody got one
I'm the fever when I'm beside her
Desire
Desire
Lady
And the fever, getting higher
Desire
Desire
Burning
Burning
And enjoy it I did. With any luck, it won't be too long before I'm in a relationship where I can enjoy it again. God knows after my last relationship, I'm not going to settle for anything less than burning desire in my next one...
And now to what inspired the song:
Yeah
Lover, I'm on the street
Gonna go where the bright lights
And the big city meet
With a red guitar, on fire
Desire
Yes, the other thing I really miss about my last boyfriend and our relationship is being desired and desiring someone. Maybe because that really was my first relationship where desire got separated from the icky stuff it was attached to when I was a young girl, so I could finally just enjoy it:
She's a candle burning in my room
Yeah I'm like the needle, needle and spoon
Over the counter with a shotgun
Pretty soon everybody got one
I'm the fever when I'm beside her
Desire
Desire
Lady
And the fever, getting higher
Desire
Desire
Burning
Burning
And enjoy it I did. With any luck, it won't be too long before I'm in a relationship where I can enjoy it again. God knows after my last relationship, I'm not going to settle for anything less than burning desire in my next one...
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Don't Dream It's Over
I've been marveling lately at how much more freedom I feel in my life, and while doing so today, this song floated into my head:
There is freedom within, there is freedom without
Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup
There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost
But you'll never see the end of the road
While you're traveling with me
Hey now, hey now, don't dream it's over...
When the man I'd had my heart, mind, body and soul set on for three years moved away this summer, I couldn't, wouldn't dream it was over, and yet, another part of me knew it was. I hated succumbing to the grief. I did not want to let him go. But I also knew instinctually that I would grow if I did, that I'd become more fully the person I was always meant to be, if I could just stop putting up so much resistance.
And I'm proud to say I have. Put up less resistance, grown, and in the process gained more freedom than I've ever known before. I'm just not held back by the things that used to bog me down -- fear about money, the need to keep my family at arm's length, fear about being alone, fear that if I didn't look a certain way or weigh a certain amount, I wouldn't be loved -- that's all gone, or mostly gone, thanks to just letting go of what was in my way.
It's not all sunshine and roses. I also had to let go of something and someone I dearly loved. I've spent a lot of time alone. I've run a lot of miles. I've practiced a lot of yoga. I've been to a lot of therapy and bodywork appointments. But it's working:
Now I'm walking again to the beat of a drum
And I'm counting the steps to the door of your heart
Only the shadows ahead barely clearing the roof
Get to know the feeling of liberation and relief
I do indeed know the feeling of liberation and relief. And I know loss of a different magnitude than I've experienced in the past. I know this will make me a better mother, a better friend, a better yoga teacher -- maybe it'll even help me become the writer I've always known I am.
I don't know what's next for me. But I know it's gonna be good...
There is freedom within, there is freedom without
Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup
There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost
But you'll never see the end of the road
While you're traveling with me
Hey now, hey now, don't dream it's over...
When the man I'd had my heart, mind, body and soul set on for three years moved away this summer, I couldn't, wouldn't dream it was over, and yet, another part of me knew it was. I hated succumbing to the grief. I did not want to let him go. But I also knew instinctually that I would grow if I did, that I'd become more fully the person I was always meant to be, if I could just stop putting up so much resistance.
And I'm proud to say I have. Put up less resistance, grown, and in the process gained more freedom than I've ever known before. I'm just not held back by the things that used to bog me down -- fear about money, the need to keep my family at arm's length, fear about being alone, fear that if I didn't look a certain way or weigh a certain amount, I wouldn't be loved -- that's all gone, or mostly gone, thanks to just letting go of what was in my way.
It's not all sunshine and roses. I also had to let go of something and someone I dearly loved. I've spent a lot of time alone. I've run a lot of miles. I've practiced a lot of yoga. I've been to a lot of therapy and bodywork appointments. But it's working:
Now I'm walking again to the beat of a drum
And I'm counting the steps to the door of your heart
Only the shadows ahead barely clearing the roof
Get to know the feeling of liberation and relief
I do indeed know the feeling of liberation and relief. And I know loss of a different magnitude than I've experienced in the past. I know this will make me a better mother, a better friend, a better yoga teacher -- maybe it'll even help me become the writer I've always known I am.
I don't know what's next for me. But I know it's gonna be good...
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Gives You Hell
This morning I got a new garage door opener installed since the old one recently broke. I was lucky enough to have it break before my home warranty was up, so I only had to pay $85 of the $385 bill, which was pretty sweet. Plus, it coincided with my garage getting cleaned (with the help of my kids) and organized (with the help of my Dad and brother-in-law), which means I now have a two-car garage that actually has space for two cars and two working garage door openers. Can you say making space for a partner? Oh yeah.
For some reason all day today, these words from this song have been going through my head:
And truth be told I miss you
And truth be told I'm lying
Only on my internal recording, the second line is: And truth be told I love you.
I think I know why. You see, I sat on my meditation cushion today and had a little discussion with the universe about where I am, where I've been and where I'm going. And as I worked my way through those places in terms of my relationships, I felt something shift.
Now the shift wasn't all the sadness dissipating, mind you, although that sure would be nice. (I know, it'll happen when it happens.) It was just a little more space for the possibility or maybe inevitability that my last boyfriend and I weren't meant to be one another's forever partners. Making space for this doesn't mean I don't miss him, it means I can miss him and feel ok about it. Not just tell myself I feel ok about it, but really feel ok about it.
I remember once while we were dating, he told me that he felt it wasn't fair -- that in love he has always had to give something up. He lamented that he couldn't have it all (he was referring to his mountains and the girl/woman of his dreams).
I was CRUSHED when he said that. Just crushed. How could I not be enough? How could we not be enough?
Tomorrow you'll be thinking to yourself
Yeah, where did it all go wrong?
But the list goes on and on
But maybe the answer is, I am enough, but I'm not right for him. And by the same token, maybe he is enough, but just not for me:
Truth be told I miss you
And truth be told I'm lying
Yep, truth be told I'd be lying if I didn't admit that he didn't have all the qualities I'm looking for in a husband. And truth be told, I did lie about that when we were together, to myself and to him.
But that's all behind me now, and as hard as it has been to deal with this loss, I am also grateful. Grateful that I am here, in this beautiful house, with these beautiful kids, making space, literally and figuratively, for the man that is most things I want and everything I need...
For some reason all day today, these words from this song have been going through my head:
And truth be told I miss you
And truth be told I'm lying
Only on my internal recording, the second line is: And truth be told I love you.
I think I know why. You see, I sat on my meditation cushion today and had a little discussion with the universe about where I am, where I've been and where I'm going. And as I worked my way through those places in terms of my relationships, I felt something shift.
Now the shift wasn't all the sadness dissipating, mind you, although that sure would be nice. (I know, it'll happen when it happens.) It was just a little more space for the possibility or maybe inevitability that my last boyfriend and I weren't meant to be one another's forever partners. Making space for this doesn't mean I don't miss him, it means I can miss him and feel ok about it. Not just tell myself I feel ok about it, but really feel ok about it.
I remember once while we were dating, he told me that he felt it wasn't fair -- that in love he has always had to give something up. He lamented that he couldn't have it all (he was referring to his mountains and the girl/woman of his dreams).
I was CRUSHED when he said that. Just crushed. How could I not be enough? How could we not be enough?
Tomorrow you'll be thinking to yourself
Yeah, where did it all go wrong?
But the list goes on and on
But maybe the answer is, I am enough, but I'm not right for him. And by the same token, maybe he is enough, but just not for me:
Truth be told I miss you
And truth be told I'm lying
Yep, truth be told I'd be lying if I didn't admit that he didn't have all the qualities I'm looking for in a husband. And truth be told, I did lie about that when we were together, to myself and to him.
But that's all behind me now, and as hard as it has been to deal with this loss, I am also grateful. Grateful that I am here, in this beautiful house, with these beautiful kids, making space, literally and figuratively, for the man that is most things I want and everything I need...
Sunday, December 1, 2013
No More Lonely Nights
We had such a nice time picking one out, cutting it down, and taking it home to decorate it. We all got along, and for the first time, it didn't feel like anything was missing. It felt like it was enough that the three of us were getting our tree together.
On the way home, there was some kind of old countdown on the radio, and this song from Paul McCartney struck me and stayed in my head for hours afterward:
No more lonely nights
No more lonely nights
You're my guiding light
Day or night I'm always there
May I never miss the thrill of being near you
And if it takes a couple of years
To turn your tears to laughter
I will do what I feel to be right
No more lonely nights
Never be another
No more lonely nights
You're my guiding light
Day or night I'm always there
And I won't go away until you tell me so
No I'll never go away
Yes I know what I feel to be right
No more lonely nights
Never be another
No more lonely nights
You're my guiding light
Day or night I'm always there
And I won't go away until you tell me soNo I'll never go away
I won't go away until you tell me so
No I'll never go away
No more lonely nights, no no...
Someday I know that my nights will again be filled in a different, delicious way, but for now, I am content to have the light that shines from within and the light of my children to light up my nights.
That, and for the next few weeks, our beautiful Christmas tree...
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