Things Can Only Get Better

I took the day off from work today so I could take it easy on my birthday. I signed up for a yoga class, and biked over to the studio only to find that I didn't have my usual amount of energy. Could have been the doughnuts my coworkers treated me to yesterday -- could've been the margarita I treated myself to last night -- I'm not really sure.

In any case, at one point I looked at the clock and it read 10:42. The class ended at 11am. 18 minutes. I can do 18 more minutes, I thought. I'm nothing if not resilient. I've got that going for me.

I made it through, of course, and as is so often the case when difficulties present themselves, I also gained something from the experience. At some point during the class, I started a mantra with my breathing -- connection (as I inhaled), letting go (as I exhaled). And I kept doing that. Even though it was hard, because I both want and don't want both of those things. Both present their challenges, but one is not possible without the other.

Lying in savasana at the end of class, continuing with my new mantra, tears started to roll down my cheeks as I recognized the fleeting nature of connection and the necessity of letting go. It would seem, it occurred to me, that if I'm craving more connection, which I am, I need to do more letting go.

As I rode away from the studio toward my breakfast sandwich, this song from Howard Jones filled my mind. It seems he's contemplated something much like my mantra and come to the same conclusion:

We're not scared to lose it all
Security throw through the wall
Future dreams we have to realize
A thousand skeptic hands
Won't keep us from the things we plan
Unless we're clinging to the things we prize

And do you feel scared, I do
But I won't stop and falter
And if we threw it all away
Things can only get better

Whoa whoa whoa-oh-oh whoa-whoa whoa-oh-oh
(Whoa whoa whoa-oh-oh whoa-whoa whoa-oh-oh)
Whoa whoa whoa-oh-oh whoa-whoa whoa-oh-oh
(Whoa whoa whoa-oh-oh whoa-whoa whoa-oh-oh)

Treating today as though it was
The last, the final show
Get to sixty and feel no regret
It may take a little time
A lonely path, an uphill climb
Success or failure will not alter it

And do you feel scared, I do
And I won't stop and falter
And if we threw it all away
Things can only get better...

Birthdays are always a time for taking stock, and this one's no different. It's just that what I needed to take stock of is so damn hard to face. You see, the man I've loved for nearly four years has a pattern of withdrawal, I believe as a result of untreated depression and anxiety. I knew when we met that he was in need of some therapy to deal with childhood wounds, but I didn't know, really until today, that he wasn't going to get that help, and therefore we are not going to make it.

A rough realization on one's birthday to say the least, but, as Howard promised, things did get better (in terms of celebrating my birth) when I picked up my kids:

We cooked up a couple of delicious homemade pizzas...

And enjoyed this awesome cake my son made. I win!