Tag: class

life

Everyone Needs a Lighthouse

A Graceful Catastrophe

According to the National Park Service’s website, a lighthouse “is a tower with a bright light at the top” and its purpose is to “serve as a navigational aid and to warn boats of dangerous areas.”

I am in a boat. And I’m out sailing the turbulent waters of this catastrophe, in areas of the vast sea that appear ever so scary and dangerous.

You all, well, most of you, are my lighthouses. You shine your bright light straight into my soul, illuminating my path, cautioning me away from the dangerous areas. You remind me that my actions impact my daughter…because I’m not sailing alone. You remind me that I am strong. You remind me that not only should I live my life with grace and class, I am also fully capable of it.

You remind me that my feelings are valid. That anger is an appropriate response at this juncture. I’ve only been navigating this storm for 2 months. You remind me that it will get better. You remind me that I am not alone. You share your stories with me, giving me perspective from the other side.

You envelop me with love. So. Much. Love! You make it so that I can hold my head high and choose to live with compassion. Because you remind me of how loved I am. And when you’re loved unconditionally, you are capable of anything.

You. My lighthouses. You have helped to navigate me away from such nasty waters, ones that I almost sank in.

Tonight, I’ve found a patch of calm sea. I’m drifting in a bit of peace. Because you’ve given me the strength to steer my boat out of danger.

I appreciate you for lifting me up, for shining your beautiful light in my direction, for helping guide me back to who I am at my core.

Tonight, after being home for all of about 5 minutes, my ex and I had yet another heated exchange. I told him, again, that I hated him. And then I went to my room and read and re-read your messages to me. Love flooded through me. And soon enough, so did my internal strength. I want to give grace. I want to be understanding. He’s the father of my child. A man I have a lot of history with and someone I wouldn’t have ever married had he not been a good person. He may not deserve grace right now, but I want to give it to him. After spending some time breathing and reading your messages that were all filled with beautiful love, I went downstairs and asked my ex if we could talk.

And we did.

It started a bit rough, but I was filled with your light and your love, so I was able to remain calm. Eventually, his anger dissipated. You know, I am not someone who enjoys being filled with hate. I am a peaceful, compassionate, and loving person. It just takes so much awful energy to feel such an intense negative feeling. It is toxic and I don’t enjoy who I am when I’m filled with it.

So tonight, I was able to let it go. Again.

I’m angry. Hurt. Sad. Emotional. I mean, I’m pretty much a general mess. But I’m not filled with that rage and hate anymore. It is no longer all consuming. I was able to let it go – and without punching something this time. And I feel so much lighter again.

These blogs are personal. They’re raw. And they’re written in real-time. So because of that, I am able to receive your unconditional support and love in real time. I receive your beautiful light and it shines so strongly into my soul that it is overwhelming and brings me to tears, in a most amazing way. Thanks to you, I was able to process through this negative space of the last several days without resorting to behavior that I could potentially regret (like a broken hand).

And my ex and I are in a decent place once again. He apologized. I apologized. We want to be better to one another. To do better. I know he genuinely wants to improve how he responds to the stressors in his life. When it comes to stress and choosing how to respond – with fight or flight – he has pretty much always chosen to fight. He gets backed into a corner and he lashes out. It isn’t right – and he knows that. And just like Maya Angelou says, when you know better, you do better.

I know better, too. I know that the best way to approach life is with grace, compassion, and understanding. You catch a whole lot more flies with honey than you do with vinegar…isn’t that the saying?

At times I’m so hurt that I feel broken. But you put me right back together. You lift me up, taking turns when it all just gets too heavy for any one of you. But there has always been someone else to take your place, jump in, and show me love.

So, thank you for that message. I am paying it forward and showing my ex that same message. And hopefully he can learn how to pay it forward and show grace and compassion when life gets just a little too uncomfortable, rather than go on the attack.

We live what we know. I am fortunate enough to know unconditional love from so many different people. Now that I’m filled with it, I want to live that love you all have shown me, time and time again.

I am not broken. Maybe I’m cracked. And I’m definitely not shattered. My boat is intact for the most part, though perhaps taking on just a little water. I have the resources necessary to make sure my boat doesn’t sink. I won’t drown. And I’m beyond grateful for those resources.

I am choosing to live with grace again. I am choosing to use my resources to help me grow and have a better tomorrow than I did today. My boat will be stronger every day…because of you all.

My ex may not deserve the grace but deep down, he is a good person. He’s just lost. We live what we know and I want him to know that there are better ways to respond to stressful, awful situations than to lash out and attack. He needs a lighthouse. Perhaps I will start building one for him, one beautiful brick at a time, built with compassion, grace, and understanding.

Everyone needs a lighthouse.

life

The Wave

A Graceful Catastrophe

Not even 2 hours before I started writing this, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I was pleasantly surprised when I saw a glimmer of happiness in my eyes, a speck of hope. As I walked past the mirror just now, before sitting down to write, I just saw pain and hurt staring back at me.

Depending on when you talk to me, I’m having a great day, an okay day, or a difficult day. And all three could occur (and have) in a matter of 20 minutes.

I think the most difficult part of where I currently am in this journey are the triggers – especially since I don’t know what they are or when they’ll hit.

Tonight, I came home from Target and we were both in the kitchen, making a snack. We talked about watching something together on T.V. I was in a great mood and so was he. And then he made a joke, which, while under “normal” circumstances would’ve been harmless, it wasn’t at all a joke to me. It triggered me and I began to quietly spiral.

For the next hour or so, I played this movie in my head, filled with imaginary scenes I concocted as thoughts of his indiscretions rained upon my brain in a sudden downpour. He must’ve noticed because he came over and asked if I wanted to talk, or yell, or stab him with the fork I was using (he likes to make jokes when he doesn’t know what else to do).

I told him, with pain and sadness dripping from my voice, that this was just part of the process. I ride the wave. If grief strikes, or anger, or loads of disgust, I try to feel every bit of it. I have to. I don’t dare stifle the emotions, or try to bury them, or else they’ll surely continue to haunt me, years into the future. And I definitely don’t want that to happen.

You see, I fully understand with my logical brain that I am on a roller coaster that has no end in sight. I feel like I have embraced this; I am on a journey at sea and am at the mercy of the waves. Sometimes the sea is calm and in those moments, I feel legitimately strong, hopeful, and happy. Other times, though…man! It’s like I’m riding through the craziest storm. I mean, we’re talking Cat 5 hurricane. And my poor boat is being rocked so hard that I don’t have a clue how I’m even holding on. How is it possible that I haven’t yet drowned?

I’m exhausted at times, so emotionally drained, just from hanging on.

And that is okay. I am perfectly fine being broken right now, picking up my pieces one by one and learning how they will now all fit back together. I will not be okay still struggling to find peace with all of this years down in the future. Now is the time to face it and deal with it, so I can move forward with a newfound strength I still don’t fully realize I have.

And so I workout. I write. Sometimes I talk. And a lot of times, I just process alone.

And I ride the wave.

*This was written at night on 4/22/2019, but then I fell asleep. *shrug*

life

Class & Grace

A Graceful Catastrophe

When the shit hits the fan, it splatters all over everything. Some days it just feels like you accidentally stepped a toe in it. Some days it feels like you’re drowning in it, gagging on it with every breath you try to take.

Today, I’m drowning.

There are exactly 86,400 seconds in a day. I’m sleeping somewhere around 5 or 6 hours a night lately, so let’s subtract 21,600 seconds (6 hours). That’s 64,800 waking seconds. That means that I have to remind myself to live with class and grace about 3,240 times every day. That’s about 3 times a minute.

Okay, I may be exaggerating a smidge, but not by much.

It is a constant battle, raging inside, to be gracious, to be understanding and compassionate…. I’ve learned today that sometimes not causing my (ex) husband any physical pain is actually an act of class and grace. Sometimes I have to very loosely define what it is to act with class and grace, and I have also learned that loose definitions are okay.

On good days, acting with a bit of a higher bar, a more classic definition of class and grace, is simple. Some days, it’s really so easy. Some days I feel like we really could be friends, that he can live right there in the basement for the next 8 years. And then some days, like today, my interactions with him are anything but classy and I think it’d be great if he left right this second. And then there are those days where I think one way for 5 minutes, another way for the next 20 minutes, and then I’m a puddle, crying for the next 30. I have very little control over anything right now, much less my emotions. I’m just kind of along for the ride.

Which is why I have to be intentional and tell myself about 3,240 times a day to give grace. More often than not, it’s usually said out loud, in a stern voice, and with significant volume.

Acting with class and grace through this, while trying to raise a strong, independent, and happy child, sometimes feels like the most impossible thing to do. I have worked my tail off for almost 9 years to make sure I am raising her right. So far, so good. My daughter is caring, clever, and has lofty goals, with even bigger dreams. It is my absolute nightmare that anything that is going on around her undoes all of my hard work.

Let me explain really quickly why I say “my hard work” because that was intentionally written. I was chatting with a friend these last few days and she calls it “being the heavy.” I have done the vast majority of the hard stuff for my daughter’s whole life. I am consistent, predictable, and firm. And she has thrived. I am not the “fun parent.” I do the “heavy lifting.” I’m the one raising a child into someone who will be a productive member of our society. I mean, she wants to go to MIT! The road to MIT starts now and she understands fully that actions have consequences. I’ve told her since she was barely a toddler that “good things happen to people who make good decisions…and the opposite of that is also true.”

So, she works hard to make good decisions. My greatest fear is that I will inadvertently ruin the work of the last almost 9 years by mishandling this situation. I’m an adult and am having a hard enough time processing what is happening! How in the world will she end up absorbing the end of her parent’s marriage? Thankfully, she is being spared the details, but you hear all the time how divorce changes children, and because she has no clue why, it’s all very sudden and confusing to her.

Which is why I initially thought it’d be best for my daughter to have daddy around, still living in the house, even though that is the most difficult thing for me. I can’t stand seeing him. I see a stranger where my husband once was. He’s not even remotely close to the person I thought he was – in fact, he’s exactly the person I was convinced he’d never be. And I have to see him anytime he’s not traveling for business and for now, that’s just about the hardest, most awful thing for me.

But then I see my daughter’s happiness when she sees him here first thing in the morning. And all that felt impossible feels possible once again. For her. So she is minimally affected. It’s not about me, really. I’m an adult with an incredible community. I can suck it up. And while my daughter may be able to as well, I just don’t know that for certain. So, for now, he stays. I’m the heavy. And because I’m the heavy, every decision I make is run through the filter of how it will affect my daughter. It’s all for her.

Which is exactly what has kept me from lashing out against my (ex) husband. Thank you, my sweet child of mine. And I’m sure your daddy thanks you, too. It’s quite shocking, really. I never thought I’d be someone capable of even thinking about hurting a living being but extreme trauma and pain make you think in some really intense ways. So, for today, the simple decision to not act upon the desire to cause great physical pain is the loose definition of me acting with class and grace. It’s all I can muster at this point.

Thankfully, I know tomorrow will be a better day because tomorrow will be a busy one, as I get back into my routine and away from vacation mode. Busy is good. And because mindset is everything, it will be one where more hope lies, one where I will once again believe with all my heart that children are resilient and I won’t “ruin” my daughter with whatever decisions I make regarding this messy, shitty situation.

Hopefully tomorrow, only a toe gets in the shit.

life

A Graceful Catastrophe

A Graceful Catastrophe

Google defines “graceful” as having or showing grace or elegance. Grace, in the way I am wanting to use it, is then defined as:

  • courteous goodwill
  • an attractively polite manner of behaving.

Catastrophe is defined by Google as:

  • an event causing great and often sudden damage or suffering; a disaster.

Despite suffering a pretty major catastrophe, with disastrous results, I am now choosing to live my life filled with grace towards others. Starting with my (ex) husband.

I didn’t get to this point immediately, though. I am currently typing this with a “boxer’s fracture” in my right hand. If you don’t know what that is, it is most commonly referred to as a break in the pinky finger, typically occurring after punching something.

You may not know me, so, let me quickly describe myself. I am an eternal optimist. I describe myself as being filled with rainbows and sunshine. I struggle killing insects – even mosquitoes. I am not, generally speaking, impulsive or violent.

However, the mind’s response is quite fascinating when presented with stress.

On March 17th, while at a dinner party for St. Patrick’s Day, a catastrophe struck in the middle of my heart. My home, as I knew it, was destroyed. I received an email from a stranger at 6:08 pm, telling me my husband has been leading a double life for over 6 months. See, he’s a stereotypical traveling salesman, who decided that turning to Ashley Madison was the way to fix an unhappy marriage. In a way, he was right. He is no longer in an unhappy marriage because we are no longer married. (I mean, we haven’t quite sorted things out to be legally separated, but that’s strictly a technicality.)

The rage and fury within was something I didn’t realize I was capable of, and, to be perfectly honest, I thought that extent of emotion was only real in movies. On Day 4, I lost my ever loving mind. I went into a complete blind rage (that’s totally a thing, by the way). I hated him with every cell in my body and in that moment, I wanted to hurt him. Like, really, really hurt him. I thought about attacking him but somehow ended up punching a column in the kitchen a few times instead. I didn’t really realize what I was doing. I actually don’t really remember much about those moments. He’d said something that triggered me and that was the end of any rational thought.

So, I broke my pinky bone bad enough that a few days later, I had surgery. I now have a significantly bulky cast on my hand that happens to slow down typing tremendously. *sigh*

But, a curious thing happened. My rage is gone. My hate is gone. And it happened instantly. Punching the wall, breaking my hand, was, simply put, cathartic. All the anger, rage, and fury flew out of my body through my fist. Immediately after it happened, I literally felt flooded with an inner peace. It was incredible.

I’ve heard that the people who least deserve grace are the ones who most deserve it. My ex-husband does not deserve grace. Yet, that is exactly what I am choosing to give him. He is still the father of my child, who is a sweet and innocent bystander in this catastrophe. She’s watching me and is ridiculously conscious of my every move. While she doesn’t quite understand yet, my actions are showing her how to handle pain and trauma. How to respond to those that hurt you. Revenge isn’t the answer. And surely hate only hurts the one who harbors it.

Love is always the answer.

I am hurt, disappointed, and awfully sad. Someone is going to cause my daughter to feel those exact emotions. How do I want her to handle herself when that time comes? I know one thing for sure, I definitely do not want her spinning into a blind rage where she becomes someone, even momentarily, that scares her. I don’t want her to realize she’s capable of such dark and ugly thoughts. I want her initial response to be that of grace and compassion.

So that is exactly what I am showing her. I’ve learned so much about myself in the days since March 17th. Some of which scared me and shook me to my core. Who knew I was potentially capable of such evil? Is that living deep within all of us?

It may have come about 4 days late, and my broken hand is an undeniable part of my story now. Though I believe it is there as a conscious reminder that I have to intentionally choose to live through this catastrophe gracefully. This deliberate way of living is for my daughter just as much as it is for myself.

We all have choices as to how we handle the difficult situations life throws at us. Please be sure you choose wisely. I will, too, as I will now consciously choose to live life with grace and class…(and muscles. But that’s for another blog. *wink*)

Uncategorized

The Journey Begins

A Graceful Catastrophe

You just really don’t know when the universe is going to throw a curve-ball at you. One day, life is your typical beautiful chaos, as you try to maintain some semblance of sanity, balancing – or trying to balance, it all. Whatever “all” is for you.

And then, completely out of nowhere (but usually not really, there are almost always signs that you missed) BAM! The world as you once knew it completely explodes. Or shatters. Or implodes. However you wish to describe it, life is forever changed.

This blog is dedicated to explaining my perspective of my journey as I start over, choosing to live with class and grace (most of the time), following the catastrophe that made my world explode. Thanks for joining me.

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton

2019-03-31 (6)