You Get What You Give

This song popped into my head today. I'm not sure exactly what prompted it, but I like its message:

Wake up kids
We've got the dreamers disease
Age 14 we got you down on your knees
So polite, you're busy still saying please
Fri-enemies, who when you're down ain't your friend
Every night we smash their Mercedes-Benz
First we run and then we laugh till we cry
But when the night is falling
and you cannot find the light
If you feel your dream is dying
Hold tight
You've got the music in you

Yes I do -- have the music in me, that is. And that's a relief. As I attempt to sleep off this year's Thanksgiving -- and I don't mean the food -- I needed this pep talk from my inner ipod:

Don't let go
You've got the music in you
One dance left
This world is gonna pull through
Don't give up
You've got a reason to live
Can't forget you only get what you give

I know that's true, and I know that I give the best sort of love to my children, friends and lovers -- the kind that respects who they are as individuals, the kind that is empathetic, playful, sensitive, considerate and without conditions -- and in many respects, that's what I get back.

It is also true that I'm still one man in my bed short of living my dream life, but I am choosing to trust the New Radicals when they say that somehow, someway, following my heart is all I really need to do:

This whole damn world can fall apart
You'll be ok follow your heart

The Sins of A Family

I'm listening to a book in the car called Emotional Freedom by Judith Orloff. It's a good one. I'm learning a lot. While listening recently she made reference to this song, which feels apropos today, my father's birthday:

She had a bad childhood
While she was very young
So don't judge her too badly
She had a schizophrenic mother
Who worked in the gutter
Would have sold herself
To the devil gladly
What a sad environment
A bugridden tenement
And when they couldn't pay the rent
It was 'cause her father was out
Getting sicker
Oh, the stone's been cast
And blood's thicker than water
And the sins of the family fall on the daughter
All the sins of the family fall on the daughter

Now my childhood had its challenges  -- not the same kind of challenges described in these lyrics -- and I think it's safe to say that the sins of the family fell on the daughter (or daughters -- but I won't speak for my sister).

But I'm happy to say that after nearly ten years of a concerted effort to heal from said childhood, I felt free to celebrate my father's birthday today, to celebrate him, and the father and grandfather that he is today. He's not perfect, but he's my Dad, and I'm a grown woman now. I don't feel the need to keep punishing him, especially now that I know doing so would also punish me and impede my ability to parent my children. No thanks!

Linger

This morning I organized a special Thanksgiving morning yoga practice with my fellow Ashtanga practitioners, which felt really great. A perfect start to the day.

From there I went to the gym, ran a 5K on the treadmill, and then headed home for a bath. I wanted to do everything I could to shore myself up for my family gathering.

On the drive home from the gym, this song came on the radio -- fitting not just because of the reason cited by the DJ -- it's Thanksgiving and the band is the Cranberries -- but because my friend and cousin's wife who I always especially miss at family gatherings LOVED this song:

If you, if you could return, don't let it burn, don't let it fade.

I'm sure I'm not being rude, but it's just your attitude,
It's tearing me apart, It's ruining everything.

I swore, I swore I would be true, and honey, so did you.
So why were you holding her hand? Is that the way we stand?
Were you lying all the time? Was it just a game to you?

But I'm in so deep. You know I'm such a fool for you.
You got me wrapped around your finger, ah, ha, ha.
Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to, do you have to,
Do you have to let it linger?

Oh, I thought the world of you.
I thought nothing could go wrong,
But I was wrong. I was wrong.
If you, if you could get by, trying not to lie,
Things wouldn't be so confused and I wouldn't feel so used,
But you always really knew, I just wanna be with you.

But I'm in so deep. You know I'm such a fool for you.
You got me wrapped around your finger, ah, ha, ha.
Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to, do you have to,
Do you have to let it linger?

I like this song too, but these days, I'm trying to put the onus on myself. Do I have to let it linger? I don't know. There's a big part of me that would rather not be in the position that I'm in. I'd rather feel just about anything other than as helpless as I feel at the moment. But I don't want to try to force myself to feel differently than I do. Besides, I have a feeling learning to be in the discomfort and uncertainty is the lesson.

Do we get to choose the finger we get wrapped around? Can we unwrap ourselves once it happens? I don't rightly know. As uncomfortable as it may be, I'm just going to have to try to be patient until an answer of some sort comes...

Grateful

In preparation for Thanksgiving with my extended family, I prioritized going to Alanon tonight -- even over being snuggled in my bed which was where I wanted to be with this freezing cold weather. As always, I was glad I did. Meetings always help put things in perspective for me -- both with my own healing journey and by seeing the plight of others -- much of which is worse than mine.

One person said that when he couldn't find anything in his own life to be grateful for, he thought of things he was glad hadn't happened to him, which reminded me of this Yiddish Proverb:

“If you cannot be grateful for what you have received, then be thankful for what you have been spared."

And so, on this eve of Thanksgiving, I am grateful for both what I have been spared and all the blessings of this life, many of which I have in common with my friend Art Garfunkel:

I've got a roof over my head
I've got a warm place to sleep
Some nights I lie awake counting gifts
Instead of counting sheep
I've got a heart that can hold love
I've got a mind that can think
There may be times when I lose the light
And let my spirits sink
But I can't stay depressed
When I remember how I'm blessed
Grateful, grateful
Truly grateful I am
Grateful, grateful
Truly blessed
And duly grateful
In a city of strangers
I got a family of friends
No matter what rocks and brambles fill the way
I know that they will stay until the end
I feel a hand holding my hand
It's not a hand you can see
But on the road to the promised land
This hand will shepherd me
Through delight and despair
Holding tight and always there
Grateful, grateful
Truly grateful I am
Grateful, grateful
Truly blessed
And duly grateful
It's not that I don't want a lot
Or hope for more, or dream of more
But giving thanks for what I've got
Makes me happier than keeping score
In a world that can bring pain
I will still take each chance
For I believe that whatever the terrain
Our feet can learn to dance
Whatever stone life may sling
We can moan or we can sing
Grateful, grateful
Truly grateful I am
Grateful, grateful
Truly blessed
And duly grateful
Truly blessed
And duly grateful.

Fire and Rain

Today I went to a "wellness day" at the place where I go for my trauma recovery group. It started with a breath practice for grief, which was difficult, but also useful, and my biggest takeaway from that is that I can let whatever is causing the grief -- in my case being separated from my love -- into my heart. I don't have to push it away, as I have tried to do. I can let it in. So I'm going to keep working on that, the theory being that once I can just let it be there, I'll be freer in the rest of my life.

Next I went to a talk that was supposed to be about the attachment loss experienced by those of us who went through developmental trauma, but it actually wasn't really about that. It was about how to approach yourself and world with openness, curiousity, even-handedness and love. It was definitely useful, and I asked the presenter a question about how to apply it to my situation with the New Englander. I found her answer really helpful. She said that it might be about accepting my love for him as part of my path, and similarly, accepting the pain that comes from the separation as part of my path in this life too. There's something pretty peaceful about that, so I'm trying my best.

The last session I went to before heading to my sister's to pick up my kids was Reiki with a new practitioner -- not the one I usually see. She had two takeaways for me: 1) there's nothing to be done about my situation, I just need to be with it (sounds familiar!); 2) I need to work on receiving.

I picked up some free books on my way out the door, one of which is called The Healing Path of Prayer. I started reading it today, and as I did, I heard this classic on the internal sound system:

Won't you look down upon me, Jesus, You've got to help me make a stand.
You've just got to see me through another day.
My body's aching and my time is at hand and I won't make it any other way.
Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain. I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend, but I always thought that I'd see you again.

Been walking my mind to an easy time, my back turned towards the sun.
Lord knows when the cold wind blows it'll turn your head around.
Well, there's hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things to come.
Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground.

Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain. I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend,
but I always thought that I'd see you baby, one more time again, now.

Thought I'd see you one more time again.
There's just a few things coming my way this time around, now.
Thought I'd see you, thought I'd see you, fire and rain, now.

I still do think I'll see him, just don't know where or when. In the meantime, I'm hoping to open up some channels that may well have been closed for a while...

No One Else Like You

A few days ago, Netflix delivered Begin Again to my doorstep, and uncharacteristically, I watched it that very night. I'd been looking forward to seeing it, thinking it would offer an emotional catharsis for me.

I was disappointed. No emotional catharsis. I didn't even think it was that good of a movie, to be honest, even though the friend that recommended it to me usually has my tastes pretty well pegged.

The best thing I can say for it is it has a decent soundtrack, including this song:

Woah
Oh, yeah

Is everything just right
Don't want you thinking that I'm in a hurry
I want to stay your friend
I have this vision that has got me worried
Because everyone wants someone
That's one cliche that's true
The sad truth's I want no one
Unless that someone's you

I can relate, except that it doesn't feel like a sad truth right at the moment. Just a truth:

And looks like you
And feels like you
And smiles like you
I want someone just like you
Through and through
I'm forever blue
Because there's no one else like

I hope that you're not mad
You always said you want a man of action
I'm not the hottest lad, no
There's more to life than physical attraction
You got your special someone
But between me and him, guess who
Will spend their whole life waiting
For someone just like you

That looks like you
That feels like you
That smiles like you
I need someone just like you
Love me true
I'm forever blue
Because there's no one else like

Woah

I want you in my arms
I see you in my dreams
I'm gonna make you mine
As crazy as it seems

And also, I'm not gonna make the New Englander mine, because I can't. If I had that power, I would've done it a long time ago. Instead, I have to let go, turn it over, do all those things that I'm no good at it. It's ok, though, growth in those areas is a good thing...

Dearly Departed

Life's just easier when the sun shines for this girl

Yesterday was a tough day. It started off well enough -- practicing yoga with one of my favorite practice partners. But then it devolved into a visit to the dermatologist, which, as per usual, resulted in a biopsy, this time from the top of my forehead. If you look closely in the photo, you can see the spot -- not as well as you could have seen it yesterday, mind you, when my Dr. clearly marked it, like a bullseye, with a bright blue marker.

Then in the afternoon, I had the distinct honor of visiting my dentist for a crown repair. This morning a friend left me a voicemail telling me that "applying a growth mindset, it was actually smart to get those both out of the way in the same day." Mmmmaybe, but it didn't feel good. I guess growth kinda doesn't though, does it?

In any case, after those two encounters, I crawled into bed for a nap, which, on such a cold day, was delightful. And I probably would've stayed there, right up until it was time to get up for yoga at 4:30 this morning, except that I had to give a guest lecture last night. That's right, with a bullseye on my forehead. I also had to meet the professor, who is also a friend and colleague, for dinner beforehand. So up I rose, and it's probably a good thing I did, because this morning when I got to work, I had an email from one of the students thanking me for the "heartfelt, inspiring" presentation and asking me to consider running for State Superintendent. Which, I gotta say, made me feel pretty great.

That email was just one of the pieces of love I received today -- I think in part because I had a moment yesterday when I kinda cried out to whoever was listening: "Really? This is what you've got for me? One hit after another? No breaks?"

Another piece of love was a text from a close friend asking how things were going and saying she was thinking of me. Another was a phone call from a friend and colleague on his drive to work this morning. And another was a text from another friend, one I'd confided in earlier in the week, saying she was thinking of me and giving me the link to this song:

Oooooh
Oooooh
Oooooh
Oooooh

Well
You and I both know that the house is haunted
And you and I both know that the ghost is me
You used to catch me in your bed sheets just rattlin your chains
Well back then baby, it didn't seem so strange

Even when one is dead and gone (or, say, once again living in New England)
It still takes two to make a house a home
Well I'm as lonesome as the catacombs
I hear you call my name but no one is there
Except a feeling in the air

You and I both know that the house is haunted
Yeah you and I both know that the ghost is you
Used to walk around screaming, all slamming all 'dem doors
Well I'm all grown up now, I don't scare easy no more

Yeah, you and I both know
Oooohh
Yeah, you and I both know
Oooohh
Yeah, you and I both know
Oooohh
Oooohh

Yeah, you and I both know. But it's ok. Really. I asked my first love how long it took him to get over his biggest heartbreak -- and he said at least 2 years. So I'm doing ok. By one measure -- when the New Englander left Madison -- it's been 18 months, but by another -- the last time we communicated -- it's been a week. In either case, I've got time. It's ok that the house still feels haunted today. I can handle it, and I trust that one day it won't.

Overall, I gotta say, today was soooo much easier than yesterday. Today I had a lovely early morning practice with another favorite yoga buddy followed by breakfast from one of my favorite spots -- Lazy Jane's. Then work for a few hours, followed by a haircut and brow wax (note the after photo above), more work, then acupuncture, then parent teacher conferences for my son. Who is seriously rocking high school.

Yep, lots to celebrate. And lots of love.

On a more somber note, it feels apropos that this song is marking this day not just because my friend sent it to me, but because another friend's husband's mother died today. I'm sending out lots of love to her and her family and everyone else out there with a dearly departed loved one -- whether the departure is permanent or not -- I know it hurts like crazy...

Toy Soldiers

I love it when the internal jukebox pulls out a blast from the past, as it did this morning when I was just waking up:

Step by step

Heart to heart

Left, right, left

We all fall down

Like toy soldiers

It wasn't my intention to mislead you

It never should have been this way

What can I say

It's true, I did extend the invitation

I never knew how long you'd stay

When you hear temptation call

It's your heart that takes, takes the fall

Won't you come out and play with me

It was the chorus that I heard in my head:

Step by step

Heart to heart

Left, right, left

We all fall down

Like toy soldiers

Bit by bit

Torn apart

We never win

But the battle wages on

For toy soldiers

It's getting hard to wake up in the morning

My head is spinning constantly

How can it be?

How could I be so blind to this addiction?

If I don't stop, the next one's gonna be me

I hate to be dark, I really do, and I promise I'm trying not to be, but it's this verse that feels most fitting to me today:

Only emptiness remains

It replaces all, all the pain

Won't you come out and play with me

My world just plain loses its luster without my favorite playmate. I'm left feeling that yes, I can live without him. I'm capable of it. Which is good to know, I guess. The thing is, I don't want to, but unfortunately, what I want isn't carrying the day at the moment:

We never win

Only emptiness remains

It replaces all, all the pain

Won't you come out and play with me

Step by step

Heart to heart

Left, right, left

We all fall down

Like toy soldiers

Bit by bit

Torn apart

We never win

But the battle wages on

For toy soldiers

Best That I Can

I like Vance Joy, and this song feels as though it could be my theme song at the moment:

Oh
I am
I am trying
The best that I can
I am
I am trying

You can keep moving on like you do
The road goes as far as the eye can see
I won't stand in your way
What's the good in that
And the flowers in their bed
They're drooping and dying and fading away
This weather's no good for growing things

Sick of leaving things half done, leaving things half said
Oh, sick of leaving things half done, leaving things half said

Oh
I am
I am trying
The best that I can
I am
I am trying
The best that I can

Will you keep moving on like you do
Will you keep moving on
So will you keep moving you on like you do

Oh
I am
I am trying
The best that I can
I am
I am trying
The best that I can
I am
I am trying
The best that I can
I am
I am trying
The best that I can

Somebody to Love

This song was also part of the St. Vincent soundtrack, and it's the one that has been on repeat for me the last few days. I think, more than anything, because I love this song's sound:

When the truth is found
To be lies
And all the joy
Within you dies

Don't you want somebody to love?
Don't you need somebody to love?
Wouldn't you love somebody to love?
You better find somebody to love
Love

As anyone who's read this blog over the past four plus years knows:

1) Yes, I want somebody to love
2) Yes, I need somebody to love
3) Yes, I'd love somebody to love
4) I already found somebody to love

But that love and I have entered a period of discernment, not for the first time, although this time I'm clearer that this period is really for him to ask himself a version of those very same questions that I've already gotten very clear on for myself:

Don't you want somebody to love?
Don't you need somebody to love?
Wouldn't you love somebody to love?
You better find somebody to love

And I do mean all four of them as questions -- because for me, having found a love like ours feels like a done deal. But he seems to need to ponder whether he better find somebody to love -- whether this one he's already found or any other -- and seems to be feeling that what he needs is actually to focus his attention elsewhere:

Your eyes, I say your eyes
May look like his
Yeah, but in your head, baby
I'm afraid you don't know where it is

And for right now, though it isn't comfortable, I'm learning to be ok with that choice that he is making, and trying, each day, to understand what it means for me. For right now, it means there's a space in my life where his voice used to be. I'm consciously trying not to fill the space just to fill the space, which again, leaves me feeling a lot of discomfort.

But I'm not railing against the injustice of the situation the way I was before. I have a greater sense that giving him the space to do what he needs to do for himself will benefit me most no matter what he decides:

Don't you want somebody to love?
Don't you need somebody to love?
Wouldn't you love somebody to love?
You better find somebody to love

If he decides he wants and needs and loves somebody to love, and more specifically, if he decides that I am that somebody, then he can come to me from a place of knowing that that's his truth, a decision he's come to for himself, instead of feeling the pressure of my desire for him to decide that and then wavering back and forth because he doesn't know in his heart of hearts that it's what he wants.

And if he decides he either doesn't want, need and love somebody to love, or that somebody isn't me, then I've spent the time leading up to that decision trying to get comfortable in a world without him actively loving me (with his voice and his body). Much better preparation for losing him than carrying on the way we were.

None of this is easy, but the things worth fighting for -- whether the somebody I love or being more comfortable on my own -- never are, are they?

Control

One of the things I'm trying to leave behind is my need for control. I understand that I came by it honestly -- that those who emerge from developmental trauma tend to fall into two categories: the overcontroller and the underperformer, and I am in the former.

My desire for control is present in many aspects of my life, but it appears to be most problematic in my relationship with my daughter, which I seem to be able to see more clearly with each passing day. (I guess that's a good thing.)

So when I woke up early this morning, too early, I googled how to stop being controlling, and got some decent ideas.

I also got this song, coming in loud and clear, on the internal sound system:

This is a story about control
My control
Control of what I say
Control of what I do
And this time I'm gonna do it my way (my way)
I hope you enjoy this as much as I do
Are we ready?
I am
'Cause it's all about control (control)
And I've got lots of it)
When I was 17 I did what people told me, uhh!
Did what my father said, and let my mother mold me
But that was long ago

I'm in
Control
Never gonna stop
Control
To get what I want
Control
I like to have a lot
Control
Now I'm all grown up

First time I fell in love, I didn't know what hit me
So young and so naive, I thought it would be easy
Now I know I got to take

Control
Now I've got a lot, ow!
Control
To get what I want
Control
I'm never gonna stop
Control
Now I'm all grown up

Jam, ooh ooh
Rebel, that's right
I'm on my own, I'll call my own shots
Thank you

Got my own mind
I wanna make my own decisions
When it has to do with my life, my life
I wanna be the one in control

So let me take you by the hand, and lead you in this dance
Control
It's what I got, because I took a chance
I don't wanna rule the world, just wanna run my life
Ooh
So make your life a little easier
When you get the chance just take

Control, ooh ooh
Now I've got a lot, ooh
Control
To get what I want, ow!
Control
I'm never gonna stop
Control
Now I'm all grown up, ooh!

Free at last
Out here on my own
Ooh ooh ooh yeah, eee

Now control this, uhh
Control
That's right
Control
Career moves
Control
I do what's right for me
Control
And me wants to groove
Is that okay?
Yeah!
Ooh, control

I've got my own mind
Ooh baby
Yeah yeah, yeah yeah
I've got my own mind
Wanna make my own decisions
When it has to do with my life
I wanna be the one in control

And I do, wanna be the one in control, to the extent that I can, when it comes to things that are important to my well-being and my children's. But I don't want to try to control the little stuff. And I want to give my daughter control over everything that is appropriate for her to be in control over - because that's going to help her develop a strong sense of herself. To do that, I just need to let go. One day at a time...

Hard to Find

Today I had the pleasure of some alone time with my high schooler. There are many things that freak me out about being the parent of a teenager, but there are also perks to him getting older: I can take him to see PG-13 Bill Murray movies, as I did tonight. We saw St. Vincent, which we both thoroughly enjoyed, and then we went out for sushi. It was awesome.

In some ways I know that times like that with my son are numbered, but in a way, they are a bridge to the kind of relationship I will have with him after he leaves home. And I'm super grateful that even at 14, he's good company.

The song that most resonated for today for me from the movie soundtrack was this one:

I can see the glowing lights
I can see them every night
Really not that far away
I could be there in a day

I wonder if you live there still
I kinda think you always will
If I tried you'd probably be
Hard to find

What I feel now about you then
I'm just glad I can explain
You're beautiful and close and young
In those ways we were the same

I think my favorite verse is this next one:

There's a lot I've not forgotten
I let go of other things
If I tried they'd probably be
Hard to find

I'm trying to let go of as much as I can that no longer serves me, and my son is someone who often assists me with that process. Because we enjoy such ease in our relationship, I'm able to hear things from him that would be harder to hear from someone with whom I was not as close. I also felt this way in my relationship with the New Englander: though it wasn't always easy to hear about something in me that was presenting a difficulty for him, eventually I always landed on wanting to do what I could to increase his comfort with me and with us.

I'm working on doing that now with my daughter, it's just harder, probably in part because she's like a little version of me and I'm still working on healing the mini me that dwells within:

I don't know why we had to lose
The ones who took so little space
They're still waiting for the east
To cover what we can't erase

I'm also REALLY trying to say out loud every day that I'm not in control and I don't need to be and can instead trust my higher power (Alanon speak for God or what I usually call the Universe) to keep me safe and healthy and provided for and loved.

And it's a good thing, too, because:

I'm not holding out for you
I'm still watching for the signs
If I tried you'd probably be
Hard to find

Shiny Happy People

The birthday girl and her lovely daughters

What a difference a day makes, and it doesn't hurt at all when that day is a day off from school and work.

Ahhhh, the luxury of sleeping in myself -- I didn't see the time on the clock until 7:45am and after that I stayed in bed and read The New Yorker -- and not having to wake me kids up and get them out the door to school. I think we all really needed a day off.

We had some excitement, too, starting last night when we had our favorite newly 36-year-old Mom over for a belated birthday dinner. My daughter loves nothing more than to bake and decorate cakes, so she was all over helping me prepare for the celebration.

It's so much fun to see my kids with my friend's baby. They love to make her smile and laugh, and I love seeing them in that capacity. I always thought I'd have another baby but now it looks more likely that I won't, which just makes our time with my friend's baby that much more special.

My shiny happy kids and their muse (who's often in motion!)

Contemplating the shift in mood today, this REM song came to mind:

Shiny happy people laughing

Meet me in the crowd, people, people
Throw your love around, love me, love me
Take it into town, happy, happy
Put it in the ground where the flowers grow
Gold and silver shine

Shiny happy people holding hands
Shiny happy people holding hands
Shiny happy people laughing

Everyone around, love them, love them
Put it in your hands, take it, take it
There's no time to cry, happy, happy
Put it in your heart where tomorrow shines
Gold and silver shine

Shiny happy people holding hands
Shiny happy people holding hands
Shiny happy people laughing

Whoa, here we go

The other excitement we had came later today -- this time in the form of smoke filling part of the house. It was bizarre because it was mostly coming out of the fireplace we don't use. We eventually figured out that the ashes from the fireplace we used last night and the ashes of the other fireplace go to the same spot. My daughter had raked what must've been still-smoldering coals down the little chute, and it turned out that all kinds of things were in the soot-collection area, including newspapers.

Somewhat miraculously, my kids, who'd had their moments of not getting along on their day off, totally bonded over shoveling all of the soot out and dumping it outside on the compost pile, turning it into a fun evening. We ate dinner on the floor of my bedroom because it was both smoky and freezing cold in the dining room's half of the house, and I gave thanks, once again, for a joyful, peaceful evening with my kids.

Me, Myself and I

This process of disentangling the best parts of me from the fearful, I-need-to-fantasize-to-stay-alive, the-truth-is-too-painful-so-I-don't-want-to-see-it parts, is long, it's arduous and it can be very lonely.

Slowly, slowly, slowly I am realizing that my need/desire to check out of that process every so often is just making it harder, and no one brings that truth home to me faster or more clearly than my daughter.

Last night, after a series of yucky interactions with her, I was feeling lonely and frustrated. My favorite person to talk to about this dynamic and my part in it is the New Englander -- he has this way of seeing and celebrating both of us at the same time, and always seems to have helpful suggestions to help me navigate the situation -- but I couldn't call him.

I mean I could have, but I've recently more clearly identified the dynamic we keep falling into that isn't working for me, where we have a talk like the one I just described, and I go right back to that place of feeling he is my person so why isn't he here with me, only to find him still in the space where he doesn't know if he is my person or that he wants to be with me. And that doesn't help. It qualifies, instead, as a manifestation of my desire to check out of the process every so often that I referenced above. It fits squarely in the category of let's just pretend that this works because for now it is making me feel good. No. Not now that I can see how that keeps me locked in this cycle that puts me right back into abandoned little girl mode. That's not what I need for myself, and it certainly isn't what my daughter needs from me.

I found this song from Beyonce that expresses many elements of what I'm feeling this early morning.

There's the feeling of thinking you're sure of something only to find yourself repeatedly in a situation where it might make some sense to make room for the possibility that you're not:

I can't believe I believed
Everything we had would last...
...Silly of me to dream of
One day having your kids
Love is so blind
It feels right when it's wrong

I won't go as far to say that the love I feel for the New Englander is wrong, but I can admit that my willingness to suspend reality and go with the fantasy is alive and well within the context of the situation in which we now find ourselves.

And there's the feeling of self-empowerment, the one where I say hey, wait a minute, I am strong, I am wise, and I can do this on my own for right now, even if I don't want to:

Cuz I realized I got
Me myself and I
That's all I got in the end
That's what I found out
And it ain't no need to cry
I took a vow that from now on
I'm gonna be my own best friend

But I'm not going to go as far as Beyonce:

Me myself and I
I know that I will never disappoint myself
I must have cried a thousand times
All the ladies if you feel me
Help me sing it now
I can't regret all the times spent with you
Ya, you hurt me
But I learned a lot along the way
After all the rain
You'll see the sun come out again
I know that I will never disappoint myself

Because I do disappoint myself sometimes. I did last night, in fact, in some of the interactions with my daughter. But I'm ok with that. I understand that's all part of the healing process. And I'm on board with that, even when it's difficult...

Tom Traubert's Blues

In addition to connecting about our work in the world, the colleague and friend I had coffee with yesterday also shared a tragedy from his personal life with me: His 22-year old daughter killed herself earlier this year.

Oof. I can only imagine the pain that comes with losing a child in any capacity, but to lose a child to suicide must have its own set of difficulties.

I may not know exactly what that's like, but I do know about loss. And I do know about severe depression. I know what it feels like to be separated from the best parts of yourself and not believe there is a path back, let alone be able to see it.

Up early again this morning, I can feel a heaviness in my chest. It's hard to say exactly what it's about, and I'm guessing it's a combination of old and new wounds, with a not small dose of wow-this-life-can-be-painful that I felt wash over me when I heard about my friend's daughter.

What's a girl who's alone in the house and feeling sad this cold November morning to do? Put on some Tom Waits and let the tears rip, of course:

Wasted and wounded, it ain't what the moon did, I've got what I paid for now
See you tomorrow, hey Frank, can I borrow a couple of bucks from you
To go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You'll go waltzing Mathilda with me

I'm an innocent victim of a blinded alley
And I'm tired of all these soldiers here
No one speaks English, and everything's broken, and my Stacys are soaking wet
To go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You'll go waltzing Mathilda with me

Now the dogs are barking and the taxi cab's parking
A lot they can do for me
I begged you to stab me, you tore my shirt open,
And I'm down on my knees tonight
Old Bushmill's I staggered, you'd bury the dagger
In your silhouette window light go
To go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You'll go waltzing Mathilda with me

Now I lost my Saint Christopher now that I've kissed her
And the one-armed bandit knows
And the maverick Chinamen, and the cold-blooded signs,
And the girls down by the strip-tease shows, go
Waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You'll go waltzing Mathilda with me

No, I don't want your sympathy, the fugitives say
That the streets aren't for dreaming now
And manslaughter dragnets and the ghosts that sell memories,
They want a piece of the action anyhow
Go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You'll go waltzing Mathilda with me

And you can ask any sailor, and the keys from the jailor,
And the old men in wheelchairs know
And Mathilda's the defendant, she killed about a hundred,
And she follows wherever you may go
Waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You'll go waltzing Mathilda with me

And it's a battered old suitcase to a hotel someplace,
And a wound that will never heal
No prima donna, the perfume is on an
Old shirt that is stained with blood and whiskey
And goodnight to the street sweepers, the night watchmen flame keepers
And goodnight to Mathilda, too

I reckon Tom's right. Some wounds will never heal. They'll ease over time, they'll wax and they'll wane, and they'll teach us just what we need to understand to bring our own best selves to the world...

Shiver

Woke up with this song in my head this morning:

So I look in your direction
But you pay me no attention, do you
I know you don't listen to me
'Cause you say you see straight through me, don't you

And on and on from the moment I wake
To the moment I sleep
I'll be there by your side
Just you try and stop me
I'll be waiting in line
Just to see if you can

Did she want me to change
Well I change for good
And I want you to know
But you always get your way
I wanted to say

Don't you shiver, shiver, shiver

And I hate to admit it, but this song was on a CD that my first love made me a few years ago, and I never realized it was Coldplay or that he was saying the word "shiver."

I think I know why it's here this morning, though, and that's this next line:

I'll always be waiting for you

The New Englander has told me several times over the last few months that he can't be responsible for me waiting for him. Part of me hears that and says ok, so don't take responsibility for it. Isn't it my choice whether I wait for him or not? Or wouldn't it be, if I understood what that really means? My best guess is that it means not considering any other men prospects to be my mate.

I gotta say, I don't really feel in charge of that. Not really. I mean I could get on Match.com and set up a profile saying I was looking to meet someone else, but if I'm really not, if what I'd really be doing is looking for a warm body and a kind heart connected to a man who is also still entangled with another love and thus less likely to get hurt in that kind of a situation, well, then it feels a little silly to get on there.

I trust that if the Universe wants me to meet and date someone else, he'll cross my path and make that clear: he'll be someone I'm attracted to, someone I can have fun with, someone fit and funny and smart and kind and empathetic. You know, someone like the New Englander, except for the living in New England part.

We'll see how it goes. I am open. I am feeling like this is a period of expansion for me. Today I had coffee with one of my favorite colleagues from the University, and I told him about my big dreams about the next step in my career, and he really got it. He even thinks he can pull together a group of people to talk to about it, so I'm super excited about that. What's more, he told me how much he admires what I'm doing right now in my career, and how I'm doing it, and encouraged me to stay as long as I can because he's so convinced I'm in the right spot. Hmmm, don't know about that, but I sure appreciated all the love.

Speaking of love -- back to Coldplay -- Chris, there's one thing I gotta disagree with you on after my experiences to date with the New Englander:

And is this is my final chance of getting you

...and that's that there ever is a final chance of getting someone. I don't think there is. I think there are infinite chances when a love is this expansive. I don't see how it could work any other way.

But I am feeling these lyrics:

And on and on from the moment I wake
To the moment I sleep
I'll be there by your side
Just you try and stop me
I'll be waiting in line
Just to see if you care

Except that list line. I know he cares. That's never been the question.

So yeah, even as I open myself to other possibilities, I'll:

Sing it loud and clear
I'll always be waiting for you

Yeah I'll always be waiting for you
Yeah I'll always be waiting for you
Yeah I'll always be waiting for you
For you I will always be waiting

Always is a long time. I don't know about always. I often hear Axl's voice inside my head singing a line from the classic November Rain:

And we both know hearts can change

That we do. And if my heart changes, I'll stop waiting. I promise. If it doesn't, it doesn't. I'm done trying to control it. That's not how I want to love anymore...

Hard TImes (No One Knows Better Than I)

I had a little trouble getting out of bed this morning. Monday and all that, I guess. By the time I did rise and shine, I didn't have time to ride my bike to Mound Street to practice and then ride to the gym and shower before my meeting, so I ended up taking my road bike straight to the Capitol and doing some yoga there before jumping in the shower.

Before I left the house, the ipod seemed to be intent on giving me a little perspective on my sluggishness -- when this song came on, I thought to myself, I don't know any problems in my life right now on par those that Ray is singing about:

My mother told me
'Fore she passed away
Said son when I'm gone
Don't forget to pray

'Cause there'll be hard times
Lord those hard times
Who knows better than I?

Well I soon found out
Just what she meant
When I had to pawn my clothes
Just to pay the rent

Talkin' 'bout hard times
Lord those hard times
Who knows better than I?

I had a woman
Who was always around
But when I lost my money
She put me down

Talkin' 'bout hard times
Hard times
Yeah, yeah, who knows better than I?

Lord, one of these days
There'll be no more sorrow
When I pass away

And no more hard times
No more hard times
Yeah, yeah, who knows better than I?

I felt the same way at the Alanon meeting I went to last night, where people with sons and daughters who are active alcoholics talked about their trials and tribulations. My own heartache really doesn't compare to that, and I couldn't be more grateful that both of my children are healthy.

Thanks in part to Ray Charles, in part to Alanon, and in part to all the work I've done so far to walk a path of truth, I saw so much beauty as I rode to work today: All the other bikers who were out with me on a chilly November mroning. All the ducks on Lake Mendota. The lights shining in the greenhouses (in the Botany department on campus) the way they do when the sun's not bright enough to match their intensity. So much beauty. It really helps me stay in the present moment and appreciate how relatively un-hard a time in my life this is by comparison to the trials and tribulations of so many others out there...

Hand in My Pocket

This is year five for this blog, and thus I often have the experience where a song that so totally fits the moment or the day comes into my head, only to find that I've already used it. In this case, happily, I had not.

Let me tell you a little story about how Alanis ended up in my head today. This weekend was supposed to be a yoga weekend for me where a teacher whom I love was going to come in from New Jersey to teach a workshop all weekend. That didn't happen, which left me with a different weekend than the one I was expecting to have.

So I wasn't sure exactly what to do with my Saturday. I still had mountains of yard work to do, so I knew getting out there for at least an hour was gonna be important, especially with snow in the forecast for next week. I also had lots of housework, and the desire to spend some time reading, writing and resting.

Right before I headed out the door to do yard work, I talked to my son, who reminded me that he had an indoor soccer game at 6:30pm. While out raking, I hatched a plan to hit Quarry Ridge to ride in the last hour of daylight, then head to the gym and hit the hot tub before walking across the street to Breakaway, where my son plays indoor soccer. I hadn't initially planned on riding today, but the inspiration struck, and I decided to go with it.

Sunset at Quarry Ridge last night

When I pulled into the parking lot, I saw my Canadian friend's car. I felt a little embarrassed about the note and unsure how I was going to handle it if I ran into him, which I knew was likely because that place is so dang small. I asked the Universe, as I do when I remember, to let my lessons be peaceful, easy and comfortable.

And of course, it was on my first lap that, when I got to the top, he was pausing to take in the sunset, which, as you can see, was pretty dang magnificent last night. But I didn't capture this photo at that point. Oh no. Because as soon as I saw that he was up there, I took off as fast I could on the path heading back down.

That's when Alanis popped into my head with her oh-so-apt-for-that-moment lyric:

I'm brave but I'm chickenshit

Yep. I told myself that it was the right thing to do -- what if he's married, or has a girlfriend, or just isn't interested, or is someone whom, if I took a good look at him or got to know him, I wouldn't actually be interested in hanging out with either? Better to leave it alone -- let him call me if he feels like it.

Even though that was a little uncomfortable, I do think the Universe heard my request, because at another point, I was climbing up a challenging section, and there was some other dude, the kind that don't scare me because there was no potential attraction, watching me and when I made it he said: "Nicely done!" which I thought was adorable and it allowed me to switch back to feeling brave after feeling decidedly chickenshit.

And then I took my still cold in some spots but sweaty in others bod to the gym and climbed into the hot tub, only to find myself sharing it with my son's former soccer coach. We had a nice chat, covering topics that ranged from soccer and kids to divorce and heartbreak, and when I got done showering, he was sitting in the lobby, waiting to ask if I was interested in getting some dinner.

So after my son's soccer game, we did just that. It felt strange to be out on what felt like at least sort of a date, but also kind of nice, in the way exploring new territory that isn't really gorgeous or really dangerous or really anything can feel kind of nice. And I guess it was a date, because he paid and then said he'd had a good time and asked if he could call me to go out again. Sure, I said. Why not? I didn't really feel anything in particular about him or for him, but it was a pretty pleasant evening.

Then this morning, a new guy joined my group for our regular Sunday yoga practice, and a few of us ended up getting coffee with him afterward. And I can't really explain it, but what I felt interacting with him was exactly what I didn't feel last night: charged up, excited, smiling, enjoying the easy banter. He's married, with a wife living faraway in another state, so it's not like I see him as a prospect. I hope that's not the reason I felt the freedom to feel those things -- the curse of the unavailable man. I would hope that's been lifted by now but it's a strong one.

As if all that wasn't enough excitement for one weekend, I also had a nice chat with the New Englander today. He's such a good man. I really love him. But I also now really get what he's been trying to tell me: He needs space to find himself. He knows he loves me but he doesn't know he wants a life with me. He needs the end game undefined, which wasn't working so well with my desire to lock it down and get on with the rest of our lives. This is it though, you know? This day is the rest of my life. And for me, living it when the end game isn't locked down means exploring what else is out there, even if a part of me feels like a traitor or a hypocrite or a bad girl (that's my inner child talking) for wanting to do that.

Lucky for us, Alanis knows all about feeling the range from one end of the spectrum to the other, often in the same moment, and she's here to sing about it for us:

I'm broke but I'm happy
I'm poor but I'm kind
I'm short but I'm healthy, yeah
I'm high but I'm grounded
I'm sane but I'm overwhelmed
I'm lost but I'm hopeful baby
What it all comes down to
Is that everything's gonna be fine fine fine
'cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is giving a high five
I feel drunk but I'm sober
I'm young and I'm underpaid
I'm tired but I'm working, yeah
I care but I'm restless
I'm here but I'm really gone
I'm wrong and I'm sorry baby

What it all comes down to
Is that everything's gonna be quite alright
'cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is flicking a cigarette
And what it all comes down to
Is that I haven't got it all figured out just yet
'cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is giving the peace sign
I'm free but I'm focused
I'm green but I'm wise
I'm hard but I'm friendly baby
I'm sad but I'm laughing
I'm brave but I'm chickenshit
I'm sick but I'm pretty baby

And what it all boils down to
Is that no one's really got it figured out just yet
'cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is playing the piano
And what it all comes down to my friends
Is that everything's just fine fine fine
'cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is hailing a taxi cab

Having two hands appears to be a theme here, over these last two posts. Yep, I've got two hands. One's in the New Englander's pants er pocket, and the other one's open for exploring what else is out there...

Girls Chase Boys

It seems like this song is on the radio constantly these days -- in the car -- at the gym:

All the broken hearts in the world still beat
Let's not make it harder than it has to be
Ohh, it's all the same thing
Girls chase boys chase girls

Yes they do. And I've done my share in the past, but up until yesterday, I wasn't interested in chasing boys. Why would I, my heart kept telling me, when I've already found my love?

Because, my brain fired back today, your love has told you that he's staying put in New England for the foreseeable future, and that he's not ready to be your one-and-only.

Which means, added my sweaty bod when I came off the trails at CamRock to find a dude loading up his stuff in the parking lot, it's time for you to get back out there again:

I'm a little let down but I'm not dead
There's a little bit more that has to be said
You played me now I play you too
Let's just call it over

Yes, let's. Because it is, for now, at least. But seeing as the last boy chasing I did was in the summer of 2010 before I met the New Englander, I gotta admit, I'm feeling a little rusty.

So while I thought about just asking this dude in the parking lot if he wanted to get a beer, I didn't. And then he drove away before I did, so as I started back toward town, I told myself that if I saw his car parked somewhere, I would stop.

With this note, I'm officially back to boy chasing

There it was, at the first bar I drove past, and true to my word, I did stop. But when I went in, I didn't immediately see him. I hadn't exactly studied what he looked like, remembering mostly his clothes, which I guess he must've changed when he got there. Plus, the way the bar is set up, most of the people's backs were to me, giving me no chance of picking him out easily.

The difficulty in identifying said mountain biker, combined with my competing desire to go to a yoga class, made me decide to walk back out of the bar. But as I started to drive away, I told myself I needed to do a little better than that for my first boy chasing effort, so I left a note on his car.

Who knows if he will call? Who knows if I'll be attracted to him if he does? The one thing I know is that my intuition would've let me know if pursuing a conversation with him/leaving a note had a bigger possible downside than a benign but ultimately futile effort. He had a Canadian bumper sticker -- how bad could he be?

In any case, it's exciting in that it helps me affirm to the Universe:

I got two hands, one beating heart
And I'll be alright
I'm gonna be alright
Yeah I got two hands, one beating heart
And I'll be alright
I'm gonna be alright...

Everytime You Go Away

Well sports fans, the report today is that the New Englander and I have once again reached an impasse. Which is disappointing to me, even if it isn't surprising. But I'm telling you, I must be the poster girl for the expression hope springs eternal. Because every time it feels to me that the pieces are falling into place, I choose to assume that this time things will be different.

And things were different this time, for me anyway. Quite a bit different. I could see my role in us a lot clearer than before. I carried less generalized fear into us (thanks to my trauma release/recovery group), and that felt awesome. It also seemed to help our communication quite a bit, and it seemed, to me, that we were beginning to understand each other on a deeper level.

But that understanding did not, unfortunately for me, translate into the kind of consistent communication from him that I so appreciate from my loved ones. When I get right down to it, there's really only one person in my life who is consistently as responsive and communicative with me as I am with her, and that's my best friend. That's probably number one on the list of why she is my best friend, in fact. That and having seen the world together -- those are some pretty great bonds.

The thing about the New Englander is that when he communicates, he is at different turns funny, bright, quick, empathetic, loving, sexy, playful -- all the things a girl (at least this girl) wants in communication with her man. And after a few days, or maybe weeks, I couldn't honestly tell you how long the stretch lasted, of him consistently communicating in all those great ways, I started getting really excited about the prospect of him being my man, for reals this time.

And then, instead, inevitably, it seems, this song from Hall and Oates becomes the appropriate soundtrack for us, as it did today:

Baby, if we can't solve any problems
Why do we lose so many tears?
Oh, so you go again
When the leading man appears

Always the same theme
But can't you see we've got everything
Going on and on and on

And everytime you go away
You take a piece of me with you
And everytime you go away
You take a piece of me with you

Go on and go free
Maybe you're too close to see
I can feel your body move
But does it mean that much to me

I can't go on singing the same theme
'Cause you can't see we've got everything
Baby, even though you know

That everytime you go away
You take a piece of me with you
You just don't care
Everytime you go away
You take a piece of me with you

Yes he does. A piece of me, and also a piece of us, or at least the promise of us.

This time, when he stopped consistently communicating, I brought it to his attention. Lovingly, I thought, at least at first. Eventually I got mad, but only when I was frustrated that though I tried to express myself, I didn't really feel heard. Or more accurately, though I thought he heard me, his actions afterward belied that fact.

And when I called him on that, he said, quite simply, sorry, but this is all I've got to offer right now. Ok, I said. But it's not enough for me. And there we stand, or sit, or whatever.

On the one hand, I feel sort of relieved. I stated my truth. He stated his. We came to an understanding. But on the other, I still feel frustrated, because I see it differently than he does. I see that it is all he is offering, but I disagree that it is all he has to offer. Because choosing to respond, to be responsive, consistently responsive, to your lover is a choice you make not once, but several times a day. Is it always easy to make that choice? No. Is it always convenient? No. But when we make that choice, we build trust. When we choose otherwise, we erode trust.

There's a beautiful story that illustrates this point from John Gottman, who writes books on marriage and relationships. He says:

"But how do you build trust? What I’ve found through research is that trust is built in very small moments, which I call “sliding door” moments, after the movie Sliding Doors. In any interaction, there is a possibility of connecting with your partner or turning away from your partner.
Let me give you an example of that from my own relationship. One night, I really wanted to finish a mystery novel. I thought I knew who the killer was, but I was anxious to find out. At one point in the night, I put the novel on my bedside and walked into the bathroom. As I passed the mirror, I saw my wife’s face in the reflection, and she looked sad, brushing her hair. There was a sliding door moment.
I had a choice. I could sneak out of the bathroom and think, “I don’t want to deal with her sadness tonight, I want to read my novel.” But instead, because I’m a sensitive researcher of relationships, I decided to go into the bathroom. I took the brush from her hair and asked, “What’s the matter, baby?” And she told me why she was sad. Now, at that moment, I was building trust; I was there for her. I was connecting with her rather than choosing to think only about what I wanted. These are the moments, we’ve discovered, that build trust."

Yep. So now that we are acknowledging that we once again find ourselves in a place where the New Englander feels helpless to avoid eroding the admittedly fragile trust between us, trust that I felt we were once again building, we're taking another breather from regular contact.

And the plan, this time, is that we will only resume regular contact if and/or when this changes on his end...

Oxygen

My daughter has been having some trouble with her breathing when she runs. I talked to my acupuncturist about it, and she said to bring her in, because she had a treatment that would help. Well, I did that, but it didn't go so well. And I probably should've known it wouldn't go so well, because my daughter tends toward skepticism, especially when it comes to anything that one could call non-traditional. As does her father. And my father.

Today her Dad took her to see an Allergist. The Allergist suggested she could use an inhaler, but when her Dad gave me that report, he said something that surprised me. He said he remembered when he and I first ran together, that he had trouble breathing, but then I told him how to breathe and the problem went away. So he wondered whether I might do the same for our daughter. I thought that was a positively beautiful suggestion, but our little skeptic disagreed. Hmmmmph.

But for today, with this song, I'm going to choose to appreciate the feeling of oneness that came over me when he made that suggestion:

We all ferment, a face can change
But souls stay young
We're all connected so take a journey
With someone learn to be as one

Still living, sinking, falling, twisting
But I'm breathing you in
Breathing you in oxygen, oxygen

We all ferment, a taste can change
From days so young
You feel rejected, just hold your head up
To the sun learn to be as one

Still living, sinking, falling, we're still living, drifting
I'm breathing you in, breathing you in
Still living, sinking, feeding, twisting, I'm living
I'm breathing you in, breathing you in
Disconnecting oxygen, oxygen, oxygen

Still living, sinking, falling, twisting, still living
I'm breathing you in, breathing you in
Still living, sinking, falling, drifting, we're living
I'm breathing you in, breathing new air

And though we aren't breathing each other in anymore, I think it's lovely that he can express appreciation about at least one of the benefits of the time when we were...

A Hazy Shade of Winter

The kids buried in leaves -- I promise they're very much alive!

Today was a rough day, any way you slice it. My babydaddy and I usually don't make our exchanges on the weekend, but today the kids came home at noon. I shoulda known that they'd need some time to acclimate, but I was feeling overwhelmed by the crazy amount of leaves in our yard and banking on the labor of three rather than one to get the job done.

Putting them to work as soon as they got home could've been a set up for a tough afternoon all by itself, but complicating matters was the fight the kids had had the previous night at their Dad's. They were both angry and hurt and hadn't addressed those feelings with one another. This made an already tough set-up into a really painful situation for all of us.

But, as usual, even in the midst of difficulty, there were some bright spots:

1) You can't rake up a whole ton of leaves and not have some pretty serious fun jumping into them, and we did both today.

2) I was able to see my part in the difficulty much more readily than I have in the past, and that helped me communicate more clearly with my kids and think through what I/we will do differently next time. You know, live and learn and all that.

3) I don't know about you, but I can't see a whole bunch of brown leaves in a pile (even if some of ours are brighter colors) -- look around, leaves are brown -- and not have this tune playing in my head:

Time, time, time, see what's become of me.
While I looked around for my possibilities,
I was so hard to please.
But look around, the leaves are brown,
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter.
Hear the salvation army band
Down by the riverside, it's bound to be a better ride
Than what you've got planned,
Carry your cup in your hand.
And look around you, the leaves are brown now,
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter.
Hang on to your hopes, my friend.
That's an easy thing to say but if your hopes should pass away,
It's simply pretend, that you can build them again.
Look around, the grass is high, the fields are ripe,
It's the springtime of my life.
Oh, seasons change with scenery,
Weaving time in a tapestry,
Won't you stop and remember me?
At any convenient time.
Funny how my memory skips while looking over manuscripts
Of unpublished rhyme,
Drinking my vodka and rhyme.
I look around, the leaves are brown,
There's a patch of snow on the ground,
Look around...

And I like that song. Especially the original, but the one by The Bangles isn't bad either...