Sunday, January 27, 2013

Knitting

I am knitting
a sweater. For myself.
But it is more
than a sweater.
I am knitting
a new life
fastening together
binding
tying
piecing delicate patterns to create
a whole.
It is stronger as a whole.
I am stronger as a whole.
Yarn unraveled is
weak
stringy
tangled
messy.
Woven into a pattern
two sleeves
a hood
lovely lacy leaves
it is warm
stable
strong
dependable.
The disembodied sections
of myself
back together again are
stable
strong
beautiful, sparkly, creative,
singing songs
dancing under the moon
creating beautiful things
like sweaters.

Friday, January 18, 2013

Rain

When you're at your wits end, when you feel like you've lost all the but the very last piece of who you are, when you're exhausted from the fighting, or from the not fighting, when you're tired for settling for less than you deserve, when you realize that your problems can't be worked out, when therapy won't work, then perhaps divorce sounds like the solution.

For me, it was.

The novelty of the past year has kept me moving forward. I've had so many changes this year that when asked what my New Years resolution was, I said, "To chill." So many of the changes have been positive. The growth that I've made as a person has been paramount, and I'm still learning. Parts of myself that had shut down are resurfacing and I welcome them back with the same surprised, happy squeal of joy I'd give an old friend who showed up on my doorstep.

Now that the newness is wearing off, I'm bare footing through life, feeling my way as I go, careful not to step on anything sharp, and I'm beginning to scowl at the rain that stings my face.

Nobody tells you that you lose your best friend. No one reminds you that you're giving up the good with the bad. The person that you went to with all your hopes, dreams, fears, embarrassments, bad days, good days, wins and losses will be gone. The person you laughed with, cried with, shared adventures with, shared animals with, fought with, made up with, counted on, was there for, all for eight years would be gone. I'm now beginning to understand what I gave up.

Regret is pointless. Regret is the lesser representation of more primary emotions, like sorrow or anger, and doesn't manifest without a strong inner critic. I am learning how to turn down the voice of my inner critic, and allow myself simply to have sorrow. The more that I let myself have it, the more capacity I have for it to be there without regret, and then to pass through me. I have more capacity to feel, and that makes me stronger.

Now I start over, and learn to become the person my husband was for me.

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Crash, Burn and Learn

I'm starting a new job tomorrow. It's a job that I'm really excited about, working with people I like and a vision I support, and it's one step closer for me "standing on my own feet" after all that 2012 brought for me.

I won an i-Pad.  For real.

I have some really nice friends in Seattle and I love it here.

My new hair stylist did a nice job at the barber shop yesterday, so I've got that going for me, too.

Basically, I have a whole lot of good in my life right now. Which should mean that everything is fine and dandy and that I should be feeling on top of the world. Except that I've been having a hard time when it comes to relationships (which I imagine is natural after a divorce....right?).

A friend of mine writes a fantastically frank and honest blog and is currently working through issues so similar to mine that I've been living my blogging life vicariously through her (I mean, if one of us is writing it, why should the other?). She talks about the aftermath of a break up, and of realizing herself as someone who is co-dependent in relationships and moves through the world in consideration of her partner, so much so that now that he is gone, she's having a hard time relating back to herself.

I feel like a new born baby when it comes to relationships, commitments, sexuality, and standing in my own light and my own truth. I want to have a handle on all of those things. I want to have a fantastic relationship with myself -- one in which I'm always on my own team (and not batting against myself). I want to know what I want in terms of commitments, sex, and understand how to keep my own light shining and hold my own level of enthusiasm for life even when the people I'm with would like me to tone it down.

Oh, and I would like to move into this state of being with ease and grace. (No "perfect pictures" there....)

Instead, I feel like I'm in a pattern of crash, burn, and learn.

Those of you who know me well know that I have a high enthusiasm for life. I am very passionate about the people and topics that I love; passionate to the point of an intensity that is shared by few others. I am the type of person who would rather get to the heart of the matter than beat around the bush. I'm highly sensitive, which means both that I'm intuitive and usually know more about a situation than can be seen, heard, or inferred; and I feel more deeply criticism or hurt. I'm also female, a body which inherently carries a higher energetic vibration than a male (I mean, we're made to create new beings -- that energy has got to come from somewhere besides fat cells).  I am introspective and am good at articulating what I'm feeling. I am also a healer by nature and have so much dang compassion that I will instinctively try to heal any person or situation before moving away.

Maybe I should have that tattooed onto my forehead as a type of disclaimer.

I am inherently a trusting person. I'm also a truth teller.  I've realized lately how many people simply aren't. It hurts me when people lie to me. First, because generally I know they're lying to me (seriously, don't lie to a psychic) and second, because being lied to hurts and it makes me wonder what it is about me that warrants being lied to.

The disclaimer would be followed by something like, "Please be honest with me. Please don't play with my emotions because while it may not mean much to you, my heart is a fragile and complicated pattern to put back together."

I'm finding it difficult to allow myself to be vulnerable and share who I am with others because as I've allowed myself to do this recently, I've gotten burned. It hurt. Luckily, I have a big heart and, at this point, I want to keep sharing it. But I feel like I need to protect it with barbed wire. 

How do I continue to allow myself to be vulnerable even though I have the intimate knowledge that doing just that could very easily get me hurt? How do I continue to pick myself up and still believe that being me is okay?  My nature -- of being open, of choosing to be vulnerable rather than closed off, of being truthful and wanting to trust others -- sets me up perfectly for getting hurt.

Often times in yoga I teach my students to focus on the muscles that they can un-do. Where are they gripping that can release? Where can they find more ease? I hear my teaching voice in my head as I think about what it is I can un-do -- which is what I wrote above when I said, "being lied to hurts and it makes me wonder what it is about me that warrants being lied to."

Part of being on my own team is learning to stop blaming myself for hurtful situations that truly aren't because I'm lacking in someway, or should have known better, or shoulda, coulda, woulda. I need to support myself for the decisions that I make, which means I need to be very honest about who I am, what I'm feeling, and what I need.  The reason I've "crashed" is because I allowed myself to be vulnerable. It's okay to crash once in a while as long as you can pick yourself back up. Vulnerability is in essence being honest and and open about who you are, so in order to find a partner or develop a deep friendship, vulnerability is part of the game. However, if you crash, the key is not to burn.

I think I've been "burning" because after the crash, I started to blame myself. I've recently been in a couple situations which hurt me and didn't turn out the way I wanted them to. In both, I spent too much time analyzing where I went wrong or what was wrong with me. Don't get me wrong, introspection is good and taking responsibility for one's action is admirable, so long as it's not self-defeating. I've been moving into self-defeating territory far too often. So I'm learning to accept the decisions I make and be on my own team about life.

The great thing is that the "learning" part of the cycle never goes away. Hopefully, I can move forward now and remove the "crash and burn" part of my current cycle as I move forward in life accepting my enthusiasm, my passion for my world and those in it, my sensitivity, and my perfect imperfections.