Don't be afraid to care

You might be noticing my recent posts are lyrics.  Did I mention I really wish I had seen last month's Roger Water's show?!?

Here's the newest post over at my place in WordPress. 

The day I got divorced

The sun was shining, but the wind was chilly. I went to the gym and used heavy weights that I knew would leave me sore the next day. I picked up my completed tax returns (married, filed separately) and discovered I might be able do some home projects. I realized that just like the wedding is a minuscule part of the marriage, the divorce finalization is a blip on the Geiger counter of the relationship's ultimate decay.

It had been a long time coming. No, it wasn't the transgressions, it was truly the knowing that together we would go no farther. We were done. Not with the children and parenting them, but with each other. I was more exhausted than sad, shaking my head with bemusement, wondering why it was so easy to remember when the love started, not so easy (all right, impossible) to recall when it began to fade. Like childbirth, you simply forgot.

Being successfully married (insert your definition here) is always described as being "hard work," and you know I don't mind working hard. It's just that I ended up finding other things which I invested my time and effort in to provide better returns. I'm a romantic, but I'm also brutally practical. I wasn't getting enough and I couldn't give more. Period.

The word divorce comes from the Latin "divert, or change direction," an apt etymology that parallels my own path. I still don't have a map, but a change in direction is something one can choose to embrace or to shun. Life is too short to snub change.

The day I got divorced was today.

The half life of neglect

According to Wikipedia Half Life is defined as the period of time it takes for the amount of a substance undergoing decay to decrease by half. It's radioactive decay. I'm not really a science girl - I appreciate the nurturing it takes for something to grow and I know that my health has been directly improved because of medicine (including radiation) and science, but, for the most part, I don't really get it. And, honestly, I'm not even that curious.

When I run, I exercise my mind. During last night's trot around the neighborhood, my thoughts were bouncing around - pausing on relationships that have inspired me. Inspired me to see things in a different way, to learn about myself and what makes me happy, to make changes in myself and my life. From out of nowhere, the concept of half lives flew into my mind and landed with a thud and I realized that I could apply that concept to two of my longest duration relationships quite neatly.

If you know me or possess the ability to read between the lines with perception, you've probably gathered that my mother and I don't share an easy relationship. It took me 30 years, a good friend's sage observations and a boatload of therapy to realize that, on many levels, I lived a childhood of neglectful. Understand, she was never, ever abusive but she just didn't have the capacity to address my emotional needs. No blame here, no anger (used that up as a teen), no judgment, just reality.

I guess I should consider it progress that it only took me half as long, til the age of 45, to wake up to the fact that my fundamental complaint about my marriage was a lack of emotional care giving. This isn't a criticism of my former spouse. I don't think either of us realized how much I yearned for someone to take care of me from the inside and I'm at least equally guilty of neglecting that part of myself. My own inability to recognize and ask for what I needed was radioactive poison causing decay, no doubt.

I know I can't decontaminate either of those prior relationships and I'm more than okay with that. I'd like to think that the part of me that has been becoming progressively smaller is the part that tolerates being neglected, by me, and by those whom I allow into my life. In the big picture, even a half life is far too much time to waste.

Land ahead, Columbus!

I forget sometimes that I run for clarity - to be able to see better.  Despite thoroughly enjoying my genuine two complete days off in a row, I was feeling punky today.  Yes, precisely punky, I'd say.  I was able to rationalize my funk as being the result of too much wine and not enough exercise over the holiday weekend, but there was something else.  Something that made me feel off.

I watched a sweet but sad excuse for a romantic comedy and then forced myself to put some running clothes on and get on out there.  I was barely .25 mile in when I realized without a doubt what was niggling around in my head... 

Exactly one year ago this weekend, my neighbor, Ken Ragsdale drew a picture (is this the right word? is there a more correct artsy word I should know?) of the view of Arcadia Avenue looking out from his front porch.  That perfect piece of his work now hangs in my house.  And, Columbus Day 2010 was when I, too, began to gaze intently at a similar view but somehow my eyes went beyond Arcadia Avenue, and I began to see all kinds of things I hadn't before noticed.  Or perhaps, even wanted to notice, would be a more accurate assessment.  Ah, yes, the hindsight view.

The path from thinking "nothing will ever change," to living a life that is more vital than ever before, is disconcerting sometimes.  Thank goodness for DelSo - it certainly eliminates having to explain a lot of things individually to people since it's all here! 
 

There were layers and layers of emotion that were stripped away, some with a slow erosion, others with something more akin to the proverbial band-aid rip, and, happily, what remains is a true concern for one another and a sincere hope for all future happiness.  No longer casting for stability and safety with one another, but instead discovering a future that involves explorations to different places.  Happy trails ahead.

Confession: at 45 years + 3 days

image from messiahmom.com

I am vain.  Yep, there you have it.  In print.  Well, sort of in print.

I just went for my first run in my new year.  It was really hard - it was humid and I have been indulgent this week, as I should be.  Despite the challenges, I'm pleased I went because I always feel inspired when I run.  My appetite for fresh food and mental exercise is stimulated and I come home tired but anticipating the next opportunity to stretch my muscles, wanting just a little more...

My thoughts during those 4 miles this afternoon began with something  I wrote down before leaving the house:

It's not how far you go, it's how far you've come.

That statement sums up a big part of my life's philosophy.  Am I conceited or egotistical? Yes, both, but I earned every thread of confidence I wear.  There are so many ways a person's life can go and the fact that I am where I am at this exact moment in time is because of the choices I made and the work I've invested - in education, and building relationships, and living with the decisions I've made over the years.

There aren't many things I've wanted in my life that I haven't gotten.  Consider yourself warned.  The "things" I've wanted and haven't been able to hold on to, were never really "things," anyway.  I mean, I'll never know my father or trust my mother or have a husband for my entire life, but that all is about yesterday and I think overall, I'm doing ok.  Perhaps, even better than that.

Anticipating opportunities to stretch one's muscles and wanting a little more ain't just for running....

Table for 5 (or why dinner as a family can be continued despite impending divorce)

I believe most people get married believing it is forever, not for ever. Introducing children to a relationship adds some additional concrete to the mix and, when all is said and done within the marriage and it is time to move on from being a couple, the presence of children continues to cement the two of you together for the imaginable future. Obvious, right? Nothing ground-breaking, just classic, common sense.

Although it is evident that every marriage has its own unique set of circumstances, it seems that divorces meet a few consistent themes. Usually they involve a quality of life diminishment, damage to the children, complicated visitation and financial arrangements, a complete re-writing of the holidays and traditions...

Positive impacts of divorce, and there is the potential for there to be some, aren't spoken about in anything above a whisper. Things like more focused parenting, increased time for personal interests and pursuits, less conflict, opportunities to rewrite holidays and traditions...

Every family has meaningful rites, whether it is the appreciative phrase one says as they arrive safely at home, or a special song played during a particular annual car trip. Things that have significance. I think most of these rituals are priceless, yet cost nothing. Why wouldn't a family want to continue these traditions? With some sensitivity and humor, I think it can (and should) happen - everyone benefits.

So, we gathered together as a family of five for a few days at the beach and everyone survived, I mean thrived. Picnic lunches were shared, our natural rhythm of tag team parenting easily fell back into place, and we went to our family's beach joint for a meal, where we sat together as a party of five. Instead of the boys recalling this as the summer their parents split, maybe they'll remember making some more family beach memories with Mom and Dad. And we'll all try to remain cognizant that a table for five is a privilege, not a punishment.

Hey - Peeps!

ridiculous deliciousness from krause's

Nearly six months after purchasing our tickets, (good thing I bought them way back when - they would cost much more than $425 each right now), Griffin and I are heading to Cali this afternoon.  We're both looking forward to seeing new sights like Venice Beach and La Jolla, but, in all honesty, I'm most anticipating spending some one-on-one time with my middle guy.  The timing of the trip is perfect and I expect to have some heart-to-heart talks with the boy I birthed who most is most sensitive to changes in his world.

I know that some of you DelSo folks have walked this divorce path before and invite you to share any tips you may have for positive transitions.  It seems fitting that so many changes are happening in my life, and my children's lives, during a  time of the year devoted to rebirth and sweet treats.  I plan to fully experience and savor both of those spring occurrences and trust that I can help my children to do the same. 

It's about the kids

I always knew I wanted to have children, even if I was uncertain about whether I would ever get married. My sensibility that marriage was not a necessary prerequisite of parenthood was the result of my own experience growing up without having a father in my life. Or maybe it was another example of my being ahead of the curve, yet again, with the single parenthood trend so popular these days with celebrities. Either way, children were a given, marriage was an uncertainty. Now, that was truly premonitory!

During my marriage, I absolutely valued the advantages of there being two involved parents in the lives of our children. From the minute Liam was born, his father’s presence provided nurturing attention which I was unable to supply in my C-section induced stupor. The physically demanding years of babyhood and toddler stage would probably have done me in without a partner to share the weight of the load.  I imagine the teen years will require an equal amount of exertion to survive. Fortunately, the children will always have two parents who love them, support them and want them to be secure and happy in their lives – that's not going to change.

On the occasions when I projected into the future and imagined what my personal life would look like post-marriage, I was certain that I would never be interested in marrying a second time.  I mean, what was the point?  I already had all the biological babies I was going to have and without children in the equation, what is the true purpose of marriage?  Is it a financial arrangement?  A means to obtain health insurance and other benefits?  It seems that marriage is more a practical arrangement than a logical step on an emotional journey.  Or, am I all wrong? 

Like marriage, divorce is also about the children.  How do the adult members of a family manage to separate from one another without leaving the children feeling abandoned?  How much is shared with them, and at what point are they allowed to express what they may want and need in the new family configuration?  Is it really possible to maintain a family while ending a marriage?  It seems that with every inevitable decision questions are created, which is overwhelming at times.  I know others that have been through this process and will definitely be looking to them for support, guidance and advice as we negotiate this new path.  The connection between adults within a marriage may evolve, but the commitment to the children remains consistent.  It is about the kids.

Chapter Next

image from: http://www.roanoke.edu

I've been busy recently, which isn't really new, yet because of my personal situation, it is entirely different.  When you've been involved in a relationship for a lifetime (18 years), severing those threads, and disengaging, takes time and sensitivity and patience.  Factor in 3 children and a myriad of shared commitments and financial responsibilities, and things do start to feel weighty, which I suppose is good. Decisions like the recent ones arrived at at my house should not be made lightly.

It's intensely interesting that two people can come together as individuals and create a world in which they are both heavily invested.  I remember many years ago being convinced that a healthy relationship with growth potential meant that, as a unit, 2 together could accomplish more than 2 traveling solo.  I still believe that to be true, however, there no longer is that sense present in my life.  It is time for a new chapter to begin.

The last nearly 20 years have been vital to my sense of adulthood.  Marriage, graduate school and a profession, home ownership, health challenges, and, most importantly, parenthood, have forever changed me from the person I was prior to each of those occurrences. Those experiences have been critical to creating the woman I now am, for better or worse.  This chapter of my life has been fruitful and satisfying, and I can't think of much I would have changed.  There were some wonderful trips and memorable meals, difficult situations were survived, if not vanquished, and many gifts were shared, but I am firmly convinced that it is time to turn the page and step forward to what's next.

Like most good things, the number of chapters a person gets in life is finite.  I've been increasingly cognizant of that fact with every loss I've experienced, be it the death of a friend or loved one, or the removal of renegade cells from my body.  I want some things in this next chapter that are different than what I have known.  I want to be taken care of and confident that I am cherished.  I want to yield some control and decision making.  I want to know that my existence has been as full as I could possibly make it, with every single page a chronicle of a life well lived.  Chapter next.

Time Travel

image from colemanzone.com

If you had a choice between stepping into a Time Machine and travelling to either the past or the future - what would you decide?  I'm not talking about jetting to a particular time period or era - what I mean is, would you jump into your own personal past or future?  I've been thinking about this fantastical journey in time as I absorb the sadness of a valiant attempt fallen short.  Myself, I'm undecided.  Would it be more valuable to revisit the past and make decisions that would prove to be less damaging or, would I prefer to jump ahead 6 months to a time when  emotions have hopefully been smoothed to a less raw state?

 I'm attempting to own my actions, both laudable and despicable.  I don't think I've ever claimed innocence with regards to my "personal" life but. in case you have the false impression that I've never shared a kiss with someone other than my husband, allow me to be clear here: I am an imperfect human being and I've done things that were clearly beyond the boundaries of traditional marriage.  Am I proud of this?  Of course, not.  I try not to spend a lot of time with self-loathing (and I have an ability to justify and rationalize my actions), but I must consider why I felt less than satisfied.  Is it an unrealistic expectation for marriage?  A desire for something new and exciting?  An unmet need that simply won't go away?  I don't really know - perhaps it is all of the above.  Maybe it is an unavoidable awareness that numbness should not be confused with contentment.  That creating a family with a person you love deeply does not necessarily translate into happily ever after and that sometimes, just sometimes, staying together holds the promise of more hurt rather than a cessation of pain. 

Ripping a bandage off and exposing a wound to light and air is not for everyone.  I understand that and find myself frequently apologizing for revealing more than is comfortable for others.  I don't do it to malign or rally support or to create a platform for my position.  Instead, I bare my thoughts and feelings as an exercise in expression, as well as an attempt to explore the thread of humanity that I truly believe connects all of us.  To write is no longer an option for me, but a compulsion.  To read, however, is your choice.

Not your typical Valentine...

image from: imgs.xkcd.com/comics/valentines_day.jpg

I remember years ago reading about the stages of grief experienced when a person loses a loved one to death. The stages were described as being consistent, although not necessarily in a predictable order, or universally applicable. It seems to me that the 5 stages can also be applied to a situation where a relationship is lost, not necessarily to literal death but to a dramatic change in circumstances. There are definite overlaps between the two frameworks, and I'm only describing my own experience, so far, but I know that I'm not the only person in the universe coping with relationship challenges and thought perhaps that fumbling forward might be easier with the knowledge that there are others sympathetic to the struggles of romantic love.

1. Denial. This stage may vary in length, but, rest assured, even if your personal denial stage is brief (like the amount of time it takes to hang up the phone after you've been told your honey is stepping out til you walk into the next room and confront them) it will revisit you. Maybe even with a frequency that causes you to question every single thing you and your partner have shared. Ever.

2. Empathy. What person in a long term relationship hasn't thought of or imagined an affair? Perhaps you never acted on your longing for someone new and exciting, maybe it was lack of opportunity, or nerve, or ability that prevented your own infidelity from taking place, but, if you're honest with yourself, I imagine you'll recognize the similarity of desire that moved your partner to seek something beyond the borders of your union. Honestly.

3. Sadness. It hurts. You hurt. Waves of loss will mingle with your tears, trust me. And, you can trust me, although the sadness you're feeling will probably displace any trust you may have once held for the person who hurt you.  Maybe for a long, long time.  Maybe forever.

4. Rage. This is the scariest emotion for me, personally. I'm not prone to anger, but boy did I want to smash some things/people. I still don't know how I will respond to any unplanned encounters with those involved, but I'd like to think that I will move past this stage because it has the potential to harm me far more than any ass whooping I could inflict. Not that I wouldn't want to confirm this with some physical evidence...

5. Numbness.  For me, this followed pretty closely behind my anger phase.  Perhaps it was a response to the hyper-emotions I experienced when I was raging?  It was a fairly short lived period for me, but it lead very directly to my next phase...

6. Manic activity.  If you're my FB friend you may have recently observed a level of activity that was disturbing.  Comings and goings at a frequency that positively boggled those who witnessed it.  How do I know this?  Because they communicated their concern to me via messages or phone calls.  The bottom line on this is, for me, I prefer to be busy, even if it is the oldest avoidance trick in the book.

7. Depression.  This isn't a place where I let myself linger.  Fortunately, I have an ability to always remain aware that many people know far more difficult challenges than I do.  I am sympathetic to people who may not have the capacity to see beyond their personal dark clouds and know that medication can be helpful, as can exercise and travel.  For more information about the latter two, revisit #6 above.

8. Acceptance.  This phase has been quite a trial for me. While I appreciate the reminder from the universe that life is a series of events conducted by imperfect beings, accepting events that have literally torn lives apart ain't easy.  As a person who can be quite persuasive when necessary, accepting the situation and moving beyond the circumstances has been a remarkable challenge. Which leads to the next step...

9. Negotiation.  Obviously, something was missing to cause the initial rift.  Needs were not being met and this is the second best time for honest discussions to be held.  Relationships and the expectations of individuals require frank conversation for resolution - this is the time.

10. Remembrance.  Memories will be both painful and comforting, but life will continue and you will move beyond your loss, I promise.  Remember to take care of yourself, remember to surround yourself with friends and family from whom you receive comfort and remember that this too will pass.  And, don't forget to get yourself something chocolate.  I heartily recommend the chocolate-chipotle cheesecake from Cheesecake Machismo - unforgettably delicious.

Holding On to Change

image from: http://sweetnostalgia.wordpress.com/

I am not known for holding on to things because I find them to be special or important. Nope, not me. I'm all about throwing stuff away. Hell, I've been known to accidentally throw my income tax return in the trash. My nearly 14 years as a parent have netted me only 2 (small)  bins of material parenthood flotsam, things like child created art projects and cards, along with some clothing items that I will eventually have made into a patchwork blanket of memories.  Letting go, be it physical, emotional or mental is definitely my way.  Unless, of course, we're talking about control.  That, I try to hold firmly on to most days. 

I've struggled for the past few months with some pretty major life choices.  For you kids out there know this: Life is continually about making decisions.  In recent years, I've often mistakenly thought that once a person had obtained their education and career, selected a mate and created a family unit, and purchased a home, all of life's major decisions are complete.  The future, now that I had a spare minute to contemplate it, seemed to me to be a matter of coasting without gaining speed.  The perceived lack of acceleration the result of the flatness of the terrain, stretching out towards tomorrows which  appeared to change very little from today. I was wrong - everything changes.

Many years ago I was frequently visited by a recurring dream.  The details have become hazy as time has passed but it basically involved my returning to a childhood home, a place that was as close to idyllic as I have ever known.  Unfortunately, the beautiful rural area I had known as a child had been developed - the small lake we used to swim the length of was now surrounded by cookie cutter homes.  The peninsula where we camped and picked blueberries had been built up beyond recognition and was no longer accessible for exploring or picnics.  Each time I had this dream, I would wake up in tears - not a particularly great way to start the day, know what I mean?  One morning, as I considered what the dream meant and why it occurred, I realized that there was a distinct relationship between change(s) in my life and the nightmare's presence.  As soon as the connection was made, the dream ceased.  Message received: change is scary. 

I've been waiting for an epiphany - a sign - a nudge in a particular direction for many weeks, to no avail.  There isn't going to be a moment of clarity or an obvious beacon illuminating the path I should follow which, honestly, sucks.  It looks like I'm going to have to take a leap of faith - something which clearly conflicts with my need to remain in control .  Letting go of the reins of control while holding on to something which has been life changing will be a challenge for me.  And so it continues...

Bittersweet Exposed

image from picassawebalbums

While skiing through Capital Hills golf course, I was impressed by the aesthetic of the shrubs, bare trees and (everywhere) bittersweet.  As I glided along completely smitten by the exposed, winter panorama, I started thinking about how so often there is more present than what initially meets and greets the eye. How beauty can be subtly layered, frequently becoming more striking as the artifice is stripped away. Yes, of course, verdant greens and brightly hued flowers are obviously stunning, but is what remains after the blowsiness of youth has been exhausted of equal beauty?  And, can the same rationale transfer to relationships?  When the vibrancy and excitement of new love have weathered into a landscape of subtle shades of brown with bursts of unexpected vibrancy, is what remains more than bittersweet?

Malignant Marriage

image from: http://kfmb.images.worldnow.com/images/13630222_SS.jpg

I've got strong feelings about marriage and cancer these days.  Note: I said strong feelings, not clear or rational feelings.  The cancer is on my mind because I've got some routine-ish doctor appointments coming up.  Scans, and blood work and follow-up types of things.  That, and the recent death of Elizabeth Edwards have put cancer, once again, in the front of my mind instead of in that dark, quiet place which I don't often visit.  My thoughts about cancer are musings about why people develop cancer in certain parts of their bodies.  Like me, for instance.  What are the odds of having cancer removed twice from an area as small as the neck?  Isn't it likely that the cancer is in my neck because my head and my heart are in in conflict - and apparently have been for for more than a few years? 

Which leads directly to my current thoughts on marriage... Did you see this article in last week's Sunday New York Times? As I read it, maybe my second time through, I felt as if I might have written it myself - a response which a number of my friends attested to feeling themselves.  My husband even asked me if I was using a pen name because he so clearly recognized what the female author was saying from our own conversations.   While chatting about the article with my writer friend, Rachel, I told her I thought this "little divorced" thing could very well develop into a social phenomena that future anthropologists would be studying for years.  The only question is: is it a revolution or a plague?

Love and Anger, They Come as a Pair

image from www.wgrg.co.uk

I've had this tune kicking around in my head for the past couple of days - Aimee Mann's Real Bad News.  Are you familiar with Aimee Mann?  Do you know this song?  Here are the lyrics and, for those of you disinclined to click on a link, here's an excerpt:

You don't know, so don't say you do --

You don't.

You might think that things will change,

But take my word --

They won't

You paint a lovely picture,

But reality intrudes

With a message for you

And it's real bad news

While the song has only been repeating in my brain for 50 or 60 hours, the Love and Anger has been present internally for quite a few weeks and, I must say, I'm more than a little tired of the anger part.  I've seen what fury can do to people and I absolutely refuse to allow myself to become pickled in it.  Instead, I do my best to purge the rage, with mixed results, made even more difficult with the continued medical moratorium on strenuous, head-clearing activities such as running and cycling.  I really don't like being angry - it kind of pisses me off. Trust me - I'd much rather be filled with love than anger, unfortunately however, choosing how to feel is an absolutely unobtainable luxury, kind of like a Birkin bag.

What do you do when conflicting emotions are duking it out within your head and heart?  Have you developed a tactic for quieting the negative voices and concentrating instead on the amplification of the optimistic?  It has been a challenge for me to remain focused on the positive half of a twosome of emotions when there were more than two people involved in creating the situation, know what I mean?  Aimee does:
 

And baby, let me tell you

You can get some things confused

Like whose secrets are whose
And that's real bad news.

Identity

image from http://www.kineticfaith.com

A couple of things have happened recently to make me ponder who I am.  Leaving McGuire's after 8 years, has been a very bittersweet experience and I think it will be a long time before I no longer identify myself as "Silvia, from McGuire's."  The other more profound sense of loss has, of course, been the situation within my marriage and the aftershocks of the B-bomb.  Being part of a pair, especially a pair who hold  somewhat public professional positions, has all sorts of social ramifications and expectations which are currently residing in limbo.  I don't know how to respond right now when someone introduces me to another as "....'s wife."  It just feels awkward and weird on so many levels.  And, yes, I recognize that my own propensity to be public about topics more often kept private, is a factor in my discomfort, but, for the record,  I wouldn't take back a single word.

And, it's got me thinking about all the separate qualities, circumstances and characteristics which join together to become our own personal identity.  How do we define ourselves, both privately and publicly, and how do our choices impact our ability to maintain an identity to which we've grown accustomed?  Which ones do we personally foster and develop and at what price?  The only conclusion I can make, at this point in my life, is that I'm a person who lives an open existence.  If you ask me to keep your secrets, I will, but please don't ask me to refrain from sharing my own.  The parts of my identity which I plan to display most often during this confusing, emotional time all originate in an internal place and involve frank honesty.  And, they are the attributes which I hope to always possess - along with my position as  "....'s wife."

E.S.P. - or knowing something

image: www.hauntedamericatours.com

Excitement.  Stimulation.  Provocativeness. 

If you've been in a relationship for any length of time, you know these are characteristics which often get lost amongst the piles of laundry and calendars containing far too many commitments. In the early years of a marriage, the loss of these ingredients is unimaginable, an impossible case of   "How could our love ever become a cliche?"  Well, folks, allow me to (over)share with you since it seems there is a conspiracy to keep these situations and emotions and personal failings a collective dark secret.

Marriage/relationships are hard to maintain as the focus shifts from one another, to the additions (children, property acquisition, career growth) being made to your circle of two.  The string which surrounds your pairing, regardless of what it is made, expands, stretches and on occasion, unravels.  Minus the emotions, it sounds so simple, doesn't it?   In our daily lives we unwittingly replace excitement with routine, stimulation with comfort and provocativeness with passivity, thus creating a perfect entry point for primal contributions to come from another. 

I don't believe the intent is ever to hurt the person we have vowed to honor, but communication deteriorates,  patterns and positions become firmly entrenched and the next thing you know, needs are being met beyond the boundaries.  I wish I could claim innocence myself - minimize my own culpability, but it would be insincere to portray myself in such a flattering light.  We each possess our own erogenous zones, and stroking between the ears can often require more effort than a caress in a more expected area of the body.  

I wish I understood why we (as a couple, as a society, take your pick) find it so difficult to ask for what we need.  Why do we expect the ones closest to us to permanently retain the telepathic connection originally forged in an earlier, more simple time?  

Effort.  Sincerity.  Patience

Characteristics which may lead us to the place we want to be.  Together.

Psychic Ipod - Heartbreak Edition

The shuffle feature on my Ipod provided me with the playlist below.  Really?  I mean, really?

• Last Goodbye - Jeff Buckley
• Our House - CSNY
• Mysterious Ways - U2
• Don't Let the Sun Catch You Crying - Rickie Lee Jones
• So Lonesome I Could Cry - Cowboy Junkies
• Can't Find My Way Home - Clapton/Winwood
• Low Down - Clapton/Winwood
• Miss Otis Regrets - Ella Fitzgerald
  

I was talking to someone yesterday about heartbreak.  He had mentioned that his son was coping with his first heartbreak and he, the Dad, was informally polling people about how many heartbreaks they had personally experienced.  I took a moment before responding... Three.  I remember with the first one I was absolutely convinced that I was going to die.  How could I not die on a diet  comprised exclusively of tequila and cigarettes?  I dropped 10 lbs in a week and bought a teal blue Yves St. Laurent bikini in a size 4 and made it my uniform for beach drinking.  Which I did a lot of that particular summer.  I had a friend, someone I worked with at the time in a restaurant, and she told me I should never gain that weight back again because I looked so good skinny.  I couldn't be friends with her after that remark - skinny is not better than happy and the fact that she failed to see the heartache on the inside, convinced me she was not truly a friend - a conclusion I've never regretted.  

Heartbreak #2 was a genuine blindsiding.  I knew it wasn't working, going anywhere or providing light comparable to the heat produced, and took a step away only to be drawn back in close enough for the inevitable slap in the face.  I held fast to my non-smoker status after that one, probably still drank too much tequila and have memories of running through Washington Park to escape the demon memories, as the tears poured down my face.  I left town as quickly as possible and regretted nothing other than being so trusting.

The current situation definitely has earned a place in this unfortunate top three  list, however, I'm older and smarter and I now know a few things.  Like, I'm not going to die.  I'm not really interested in consuming excessive amounts of tequila - especially on a hollow stomach.  I'll more than likely lose some weight, although it probably won't be enough to get me in a bikini again.  The path ahead is going to be filled with optimism and anger and sorrow, decisions and considerations and conversations.  And there won't be any running away. 

Bear with me.  The playlist will change, I promise.

Discoveries

image from gracesgreatgifts.com

How incredibly ironic that I should discover marital transgressions on Columbus Day...   Perhaps it is appropriate - new things always come with some risk or peril, be it exploring a new land or testing the waters beyond the marital boundaries.  Discovering your relationship no longer is fulfilling is at least as frightening as taking to open water and setting a course for the unknown.  When you push away from shore, the place where you've been berthed for lifetimes, it is impossible to know where the wave is going to take you.  Maybe it will be a smooth sailing experience - minimal seasickness before once again arriving safely in harbor.  More experienced, eyes opened to both the beautiful and the frightening, ready, maybe even eager, to tie up again in safety.  Or, maybe, just maybe, there's no turning back and the new land where your ship comes to rest becomes your new dwelling without the option of ever returning to the placid waters you once called home.

People don't talk about the hard parts of a marriage.  How to maintain the flame that originally brought two people together and using it to navigate through times of darkness.  The resentment and history and disappointment that builds and becomes increasingly more difficult to throw overboard.  The weight of daily life which anchors the soul in a way that is more suffocation than safety.  Like other explorations, both literal and emotional,  this situation is taking me to foreign lands and I just don't know if I have the correct map in my possession.  To be continued.