Tag: perspective

life

365 Days

A Graceful Catastrophe

It’s supposed to be a lucky day. St. Patrick’s Day. The luck of the Irish, right? Well, perhaps, in hindsight, today continues to be lucky…despite last year’s events and this year’s pandemic shutting everything down. When viewed properly, March 17th is indeed a lucky day. It’s all about perspective…

There are distinct moments in our lives where we are shoved off our path with such great force that we’ve lost the old path completely and find ourselves battered and bruised in unknown territory. It hurts. It’s scary. And you’re absolutely lost.

But that exact moment, that figurative violent kick from the universe, was exactly what you needed to wake up and learn lessons you refused to learn the easy way. You weren’t entirely and intentionally doing anything to grow, so the beautiful universe then decided to intervene.

I flew off my path at 6:08 pm on March 17, 2019 and face planted elsewhere, landing in unknown and very painful territory. I spent the majority of the last 365 days rediscovering not only who I am, but deciding who I want to be.

This past week has been a lot harder than I anticipated. I love the path I’m currently walking. I love the people I am walking it with. I love myself. I love.

So why have these days been so hard?

It hit me on Sunday. The insecurities that overwhelm you when you’ve been cheated on are abundant. I…

Oof. I just had to walk away. This is surprisingly turning out to be one of the hardest blogs I’ve written. The feelings and thoughts filling my very being right now are so painful and I was not expecting this time to be so challenging. These emotions have caught me completely off guard.

It’s like, everything I’ve reflected on and had thought was nicely processed and behind me is right in front of my face again. It’s like I’m her again. The me I was a year ago. The one who was inadequate in all aspects of her life. Everything is rushing back to the surface and I feel buried in all that shit all over again.

Growth is work. Constant work. Constant positive self-talk, to drown out the voice that seems to always be there, ready to lie to you. And I’m trying so hard to shut that voice up. I thought I had. Ugh, it had been silent for months.

But today…today is hard. I feel inadequate.

At least today, I know that feeling is a lie.

Because I’m not only adequate. I far exceed that. I’m not just enough – I am more than enough. And today, well, today is weird. But, on most days, it doesn’t matter if others don’t see that. Because, quite simply, I do.

So that’s the key. I have to fill my head with positive self-talk. And surround myself with people who lift me up…who remind me that I am strong and amazing…who tell me they’re grateful I’m in their lives. There’s no doubt that my ex’s negative words became the voice in my head, filling my being with lies for years upon years. And there’s also no doubt that my community has gotten me to where I am today. They never hesitate to fill me with unconditional love and encourage me with their uplifting words.

My community has supported me for the full 365 days that have past, seemingly, in a flash. They never once judged me, ridiculed me, or left my side for even a second. They chose to lift me up when I fell and I had so many shoulders to cry on – which was necessary because there was a bit of a flood for a while. They never condemned me for how I chose to process the pain. They believed in me. Not only that, but they believed in love for me when I was sure it didn’t – couldn’t – exist. It is also because of my community that I was able to be vulnerable and dream of love again…because I felt their love so deeply that I knew it surely must exist in reality.

It isn’t easy to come out on the other side from a catastrophe. It takes careful diligence, intention, and far too many difficult moments of seeing who you are at your core. And it truly takes a village.

But it pays off.

So now I’m taking a moment to pause. As I close my eyes, I see myself standing in the middle of this beautiful, blossoming path, so fragrant with brand new, blooming life that I can no longer smell the shit that covered me just days, weeks, and months ago. And as I open my eyes and look around, I see my people who have willingly chosen to accompany me on this journey.

This new community is filled with not only my tried and true, been-there-for-every-step-of-all-my-journeys soulmates, but also people who have come into my life that I never fathomed could ever exist. These significant souls keep pushing me to grow, to dig deeper in order to discover the true roots of my pain, so that I can continue to properly heal my past wounds. And as I take this symbolic meandering down my new path, I can give myself a little pat on the back, pause to smile, and realize how far I’ve really come.

It was this past Tuesday, March 10, that I realized the date. And the week that followed has been a roller coaster. I was incredibly on edge and the people closest to me felt that chaotic energy and, thankfully, dealt with it with grace. I purposely pushed buttons over the weekend, as the emotions that were coming out by then were anger and insecurity. And then I started to write this past Sunday afternoon, when the anger had finally left and was replaced completely by intense self-doubt and vulnerability.

And I continued to write, well into Tuesday, March 17, but now in yet another significantly different place.

When I had to walk away, when I had a bit of a breakdown while writing…that began to heal me. When I wrote on Monday, I felt uplifted. I finally saw my baggage. I had been holding something so heavy all week but I didn’t know what it was. Just that it was an incredible burden. It was weighing me down and turning me into my former self – though I was fighting it hard.

But then, after a lengthy chat with a soul that truly gets me, I was able to stand in front of that figurative mirror, my dear old friend from the past year, that I hadn’t stood before in months. And I saw what that weight was. I saw the roots of those feelings of inadequacy.

And what I saw surprised me.

My ex did some work to bring me down and led me to believe I wasn’t enough. Years of it. Well into the wee hours of this morning, it hit me. I realized that what was really happening was that he was projecting onto me the pains from his own childhood, the feelings of never being enough for his own father. Growing up, no matter what he did, he couldn’t get his dad’s approval or attention. I can’t even imagine how inadequate that makes a young boy feel and how heavy that makes a little boy’s heart. The pain that my ex has lived with, of never feeling like he was enough…that’s heartbreaking. And he didn’t know how to process that pain, so he projected it onto me, causing his pain to be mine.

Ultimately, he cheated, I think, because I devalued him. Just like his dad had. I unknowingly and unintentionally triggered the memories of that same old pain from childhood because I wasn’t being nurtured how I needed to be. It was a vicious cycle. He didn’t give me what I needed, so I didn’t give him what he needed. I didn’t behave with understanding or compassion.

I see now, though, that I wasn’t getting what I needed from him, not because he didn’t want to give it to me, but because he was just too broken to do so. I took his pain personally and then internalized it all, because, frankly, I didn’t know any better. I didn’t understand because I had never really read the whole story. Looking at him today, I know now that he loved me, although that was something I’d questioned for the last 6 years of our marriage, causing more hurt and resentment. He just had no clue how to show it because he couldn’t overcome the hurt in his heart that’d been simmering there for decades.

Cheaters are victims, too. They cheat because they’re trying to cover their pain, ignoring it by finding solace, even for just a few moments, in somebody – anybody – who will give them the attention they’ve been seeking since childhood.

One year later, I understand. He never intended to intentionally hurt me. I was just the collateral damage to his trauma.

So I see it – and feel it – a bit more clearly now. I am not insignificant or inadequate. And I am not a victim.

I think I can finally move forward in grace, as I now have an understanding of what occurred like never before. Perspective is beautiful.

365 days later. What. A. Year!

Today, my heart swells with compassion for my ex. And I’m also thrilled to have been catapulted onto this path I am walking today, filled with these once-strangers who see me, push me, and help me to grow, and who I am now lucky enough to call my family.

As we navigate this new season all of us are entering, with our country, no, our global community, at a virtual standstill, I think it’s important that we embrace these hard-earned lessons. None of us fully understands another’s story because we’re all reading it through our own filters. If we take a moment to step outside of ourselves, to remove our personal filter, to change our perspectives, we can then begin to live with true compassion.

From the beginning I’ve wanted to live through this catastrophe with grace. I can see the bigger picture now. We all have our hurts. Therefore, it only makes sense that we all give grace, live with love in our hearts, assume best intent in others, and treat everyone with kindness and true tenderness. Life is hard. It’s going to be a touch harder now that everything is shut down and social distancing is a thing. As humans, we are naturally social beings. So, give love in whatever capacity you can. Be gracious. And if someone hurts you, try to approach the situation with mercy and understanding. Hurt people hurt people. Try not to add to their hurt.

I wish you all an open heart so you can feel the peace, love, and luck on this very odd St. Patrick’s Day.

life

Goodbye. For Now

A Graceful Catastrophe

I felt the need to be quiet… I just noticed that I haven’t written in almost a month.

And this is the first month where the 17th came and went. Completely unnoticed. It was Friday. I just had to look at my personal calendar to see what I did that day. I dropped my car off at the shop. I worked with my hockey team. And I ended the day watching You with my boyfriend.

It never occurred to me what the date was. I used to keep count of how many days it’d been. It drove at least one friend of mine completely bonkers that I did that. As it turns out, it took me somewhere between 9 and 10 months for that date to bare absolutely zero significance. The 17th is now just another day.

For months and months and months, I didn’t understand my world. My thoughts were a jumbled disaster in my mind. I had to write in order to make some sense of what was going on inside my head as the life that I once knew ceased to exist and came crumbling down in what felt like an utter catastrophe. I can’t begin to explain the urge that came over me, willing me to write. Or the peace that fell upon me once I was able to get it out.

Word by word, sentence by sentence, blog by blog, I processed my internal world. Until one day, I realized my thoughts were not written in scribbles. I finally had clarity. And so, I became silent.

My internal world feels at peace. I feel a beautiful sense of incredible peace. It settled upon me like a silky cloak, unnoticed, yet luxurious and delightfully received. My reward after months of reflection, tears, and so much personal work.

For the past month, I have found further peace in editing pictures from my trip to Greece (some favorites are pictured below). It feels as though I have an endless supply of memories to paint and that is exactly where I’ve been wanting to spend the time I normally would’ve set aside for writing.

Over the past couple months, I’ve also been gifted with a different kind of perspective. Two lives running parallel with enough distance for me to listen.

And, thankfully, I was able to remain open and truly listen. Which served only to deepen this sweet, internal peace that began to blossom in Greece.

I picture myself as a lotus flower. I’ve risen. Above that beautiful, sparkling water line.

And I’ve finally bloomed.

Today, as I sit here writing this, I feel as though I’m the best version of myself that has ever existed. I know what I want. I know what it takes to attain it. And maintain it. And this is only the beginning. For tomorrow, the goal is to be just a bit better than I was today. I have so much yet to learn and experience and you know what? That excites me.

I dream again. I no longer live one breath at a time.

And, on most days, I’m fearless.

Because there’s something significant that occurs when you’ve been completely shattered. I never would’ve taken my own life, but I’m not going to lie… There were plenty of days, especially at the beginning, where I sped to over 100 on the highway and pictured myself steering straight into something solid. But only for a second. For so long, I just wanted it to end. I didn’t want my life to end. Just “it.” The drama. The confusing loss of some in my community. The bleak, empty feeling that I knew for certain was never going to go away.

When you hit that low, and then rise above, feeling happier and more authentic than ever in the whole of your life, you realize complete vulnerability is beautiful. And oh, so marvelously freeing! Because you fully understand that you are capable of withstanding damn near any potential future pain that will try to invade your peace. And because of that, you can’t imagine living any other way than all in and out loud.

As life twists and turns, I’m sure I’ll have another time where I’ll feel this desperate compulsion to write to understand. Or, like I did at the beginning, to write to remember and understand. For now, though, I feel no such need. But I do have somewhere around 1250 pictures to go through and edit. Which has quickly become one of my most favorite things to do. And goodness, there are so many other dreams to chase!

My world is calm, once again. The storm has, for now at least, passed.

I have bloomed and feel every bit of the sun’s warmth upon me. Even on the cloudy days.

I am happy.

And filled with peace.

And I surely wouldn’t be here today without the support from you, my community. You have been my sunshine. You never let me stay down for long. As much as my time is now intentionally filled elsewhere, there’s no doubt I will see you here again every now and then. I am genuinely grateful for your love and support and can only hope you will be filled with the same unconditional love so many of you have shown me.

May your days be also filled with true bliss and absolute peace. I have so much love for you all.

life, love

The Gift of All Gifts

A Graceful Catastrophe

I’m not entirely certain how I feel. How I’m supposed to feel. I suppose the best way to describe it would be rather like the sky appears, shortly after the storm passes. It’s still a bit gray, perhaps with patches of darkness, but you can clearly see the silver lining amongst the clouds. And then, there are those seemingly enchanted areas, where the sun’s rays sneak through a break in the clouds, streaming unbroken all the way to the earth below.

That comes close to putting into words how I feel inside.

The other feeling I get, though, is emptiness. Hollow. There’s a distinct feeling that something is missing.

December is ordinarily my favorite month of the year. This December has been both surprisingly wonderful and disappointingly inadequate.

That, too, seems to describe life, in general, these days.

It’s 1:46 am, Christmas morning. Thankfully, my daughter is older, and will likely sleep in until around 7, and I may even get to take a Christmas day nap later on when she goes to her dad’s house. Sleep teases me tonight. I currently have no desire for it.

There are just far too many conflicting thoughts swirling around for me to find the peace necessary for sleep. For relaxation. Much like the post-storm sky, there are patches of dark and stretches of light, tangled within.

Tonight, while I was wrapping presents, my brother and his girlfriend kept me company and helped me wrap. My brother made a comment about last Christmas, and how my ex and I behaved towards one another. It was not a sweet memory. We were not happy, and it was apparent. At this point, he’d been cheating on me, unbeknownst to me, for at least the previous 7 months, most likely longer. I felt a strain in our marriage, as I had for years. So, I wanted to make Christmas extra special. My gifts to him were thoughtful and had taken months of coordination and behind-the-scenes work.

I was so excited for him to open his gifts. I remember being giddy with the anticipation.

And then I opened my gifts. He’d gotten me a variety of things from my alma mater. Now, don’t get me wrong. I love sporting gear from my alma mater. However, it was obvious that there was little thought that went into my gifts. No care. No love. Just a quick visit to a website and a few clicks later, everything was ordered. It’s funny, how the same type of gift can be received in wildly different ways. You see, I received a gift of a pair of socks representing my alma mater from a wonderful, dear new friend just last week. That gift was thoughtful and makes me smile right now as I recall the care that went into not only choosing the gift, but also in how it was presented to me. Same type of gift, significantly different message.

And here’s why.

My ex and I were together about 11 years. At that point, I’d think he’d understand me at a depth that went beyond gear from my alma mater. That’s simple. Obvious. So obvious that someone who’s known me for less than a month could gift it to me, knowing it’d make me smile.

So that’s it. That was an easy gift for my ex to give. Simple. A no-brainer. You only have to know me at a superficial level in order to know that’d please me. There was no depth to those gifts.

But why should there have been? There was no depth to our relationship. There was no care or concern for it, either. My brother’s remark about his memory from last year made that clear.

Which is why it’s better that it ended. I have an opportunity to have a real relationship. One filled with genuine love. One with depth and authenticity. Commitment. Not only commitment to one another, but to lifting one another up and encouraging growth. Someone who will push me to be the best version of myself, rather than the worst. Someone who understands my drive to be better tomorrow than who I was today. And repeat that. Everyday.

I guess what I’m processing here is that tomorrow (today?) represents so much more than just the gifts. It’s about the thought that goes into them. It’s about knowing someone so well that you know how to touch their hearts through something tangible. Now, I totally blew it with my dad this year. I knew what I was going to get him. My daughter and I had talked about it weeks ago. We ran out of time that day to go get it, so I placed it on my mental checklist. Guess who realized, while wrapping tonight, that just because you think you did something doesn’t actually mean you did it. *facepalm* My dad deserves the world be given to him and I couldn’t even remember to get him this one, tiny little thing. Ugh….

Everyone’s gift (even my dad’s invisible one), was decided upon after much thought. My ex couldn’t give me that gift last year – thoughtfulness. I remember the feeling, too, as I opened the gifts from him. While I was grateful for the gear, I remember feeling hurt that such little time and effort went into the gifts he’d chosen for me. He didn’t know me beyond the superficial. And the evidence was displayed all over the place, and reinforced with each present I unwrapped.

So, overall, this place that I’m in…I know it’s good. I know we weren’t happy. And I truly am grateful for the infidelity. And for the months of deceit. And for each and every single layer of betrayal he gifted me. Everything he was became the catalyst for who I am today.

Today, I not only understand myself better than ever before, I have a different perspective on others. I try to be more compassionate and understanding. I try to be more intentional and present (this one is still so hard for me). I try to be everything I wasn’t in my marriage. Because I am fully aware of what happens when everyone becomes complacent, bitter, and sad. When the only things you choose to see are the challenges and negatives. When your focus lands upon all the ways someone lives under expectation.

While I will never take responsibility for his infidelity, or for him choosing to spend $70 each month on a website dedicated to help married people cheat…or for his role in the demise of our relationship, I do understand my part in all of it.

I will take responsibility for my role in the demise of our relationship. I sucked as a wife. Period. No excuses as to why I sucked. There’s no justification in being a crappy human. And because I now have the privilege of hindsight and self-reflection, I’ll never be her again.

When you know better, you do better.

And every single day that passes, I know better than I did the previous day. There’s no going backwards. There’s no desire to have any sort of relationship with my ex anymore. He is someone who I am forever tied to because of my daughter and at the same time, is just someone I used to know. He doesn’t know who I am anymore. Honestly, though? He stopped knowing me a long time ago. Really, even long before he decided to put more effort into knowing other people’s wives over dinners and bottles of wine than he did into me. Our connection failed years and years ago. And we did nothing, really, to mend it back together.

Perhaps that is what this hollow feeling is? A desire for that connection. To have “my person.” To know, without any type of hesitation, that there will be someone by my side, no matter where life may take us. To have someone choose me in a way I’ve never been chosen before.

You know what’s interesting? I know now that I’m enough. I love myself deeply. I understand exactly who I am and what value I bring to relationships.

I just want someone else to see my value and understand that their life would never be the same without me in it.

Now that would be the gift of all gifts, I think. Because you know what that is? Unconditional love. And that was what I was robbed of the second my ex decided to cheat. His love was conditional, and therefore, empty.

Which has left a piece of me empty.

Now that all my shattered bits have been meticulously pieced back together, the gap that has been left behind is more apparent than ever. I surely do not need anyone outside of my community of friends and family. They fill virtually every bit of my being with love. There’s just one void.

And I’m ready for it to be filled.

So, now I understand how I feel. Christmastime represents love. Joy. Family time. I’m lucky enough to have family and friends. To have my daughter. To have a house that will be filled with love and laughter again tomorrow. And I am ever so grateful for all the things I have. My heart is full. Mostly. But I feel the loss that accompanies the love this year. It almost feels like a spotlight is shining straight into the hole. The awareness of that missing piece highlights the gloom in the sky, overshadowing the silver lining.

So now that it is after 3 in the morning (3:55, to be exact), with awareness and intentionality, I will move the spotlight away from that void. And shine my light on the love that does exist, in abundance, all around me.

Merry Christmas, everyone. May you focus on the beauty and richness that fills your life everyday, but especially today. Love is a gift. Time with those that love us is invaluable. Enjoy this new, precious day, and fill it with radiant, thoughtful, and unconditional love. Even to those, no, especially to those, that have hurt you. Because they probably need it the most today.

life

Like A Bull in a China Shop

A Graceful Catastrophe

** I wrote this blog 2 days ago, on a note taking app on my phone, because I was staying in a remote village in northern Greece and had no WiFi to publish it. So, I updated it by striking through the original time references. **

Life is a journey. Duh.

Okay, fine. Sure. But, let’s explore that a minute. First, let’s define “journey.” Merriam Webster’s online dictionary says, “something suggesting travel or passage from one place to another.”

I’ve been saying, in my writing, that this has been a journey for me. I’ve been moving through time, my mindset passing from one stage to the next. So, sure, a journey. I’ve oftentimes referred to it as a roller coaster ride. Or to that of riding the wave. Today’s analogy is a bit different.

Eight months ago, I was drowning. I was doing everything and anything to keep the flood of emotions from bringing me down. It didn’t matter, though. For a while, they still did. And then, every now and then, I’d come up for a breath before being completely washed over by them again.

This phase lasted a really long time. Well, it felt like it, at least.

Then, after so much exhausting and draining hard work, I was finally ashore. I’d made it through the initial chaos. I thought I was in a great place then! I felt happier. I felt like everything was leveling out, in a way.

But, thanks to constant self-reflection, I realized that wasn’t quite right, either. I wasn’t quite on the other side of this whole catastrophe yet.

Today A couple days ago, I realized I’ve been living quite like a bull in a china shop this whole time. I just did. If I wanted it, I pursued it, bought it, did it, you fill in the verb. I thought I was this strong, empowered woman. Look at me!! I can do anything!

Well, yep. True. I am.

It just doesn’t mean that I should.

Oof. That was major today the other day. I physically felt the change in my being. Honestly. And that realization came from a moment with my photographers where, to be quite frank, my actions were entirely disrespectful. Though, obviously, completely unintentional. That doesn’t matter, though. I was still careless and thoughtless. Definitely not one of my best moments. *sigh* (That one is a self-reflective sigh, Billy, rather than a content one, but still good.)

While on this trip, I’ve learned more than I can even begin to process, I think. So, let’s just chat for a moment about what led up to this great epiphany.

Lesson of the day: Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should.

We all live life through our own lenses, further masked by our own unique filters.

The way we communicate – what is said and what is heard, passes through these first. The speaker delivers the message in a certain way based on personal history. The listener receives the information, interpreting, acknowledging, and responding based on their own backgrounds, without even realizing that is what is happening. (It’s truly a wonder how anyone effectively communicates!)

Let me explain, in detail, so you may understand. Today The other day, we visited a gorge. A gorgeous gorge, if you will. *wink* I was told to be careful.

Okay. Got it.

Well, my interpretation of being careful was slightly different than that of my cautious Greek guides. You see, there was this short wall, a deliberate divide between life and death. Of course, I wasn’t going to walk all along it, or even dangle my legs on the other side. That’d just be absurd!  But, sitting on it felt perfectly safe. To me. I was steady. So I did it. Their definition, as it turns out, was for me to keep my feet firmly planted on life’s side, not balancing on the edge between life and death…as was mine. I’ve grown quite comfortable living in that space and didn’t think twice about it.

But here’s what got to me. I didn’t see their perspective. Never even thought about it. I knew what I felt comfortable with and went with that.

But I forgot a very important detail. It’s not all about me. While on this workshop, I am their responsibility. They are in charge of my safety. And I complicated that for them. Ugh.

I think that I had lived with such a healthy dose of fear for so long that when catastrophe struck my home…my heart, my pendulum swung to the extreme. If I can do it, I’m going to do it. And I can do anything. So…bull in a china shop.

Yeah, that’s not exactly the best philosophy. *facepalm*

Respecting another means meeting somebody where he or she is at, not where you think they should be. I needed this reminder today. And I appreciate the lesson.

Both Billy and Chris called me out on this, each in their own way. That’s so important. I find that I’m surrounding myself more and more with people who aren’t afraid of challenging me. Of holding me to a higher standard. Of calling me out, kindly and through thoughtful conversation, when my behavior needs checked.

I knew I was coming for a photography workshop…who knew I’d be walking away with such a meaningful lesson from them, too.

I got slightly chastised, in the kindest of ways, for disrespecting nature and boundaries. From my perspective, that was not my intention, of course. I’d never be outright disrespectful to such kindhearted individuals or to sweet Mother Nature. I didn’t see anything wrong with sitting on that wall – because I understood my boundaries and felt safe. However, in situations such as these, I’m learning that you should go with the least common denominator, so to speak. They were less comfortable, they’re in charge of my safety, they have a vastly different perspective based on their knowledge of what has taken place at that gorge (and plenty of tragedies have occurred there). I never took the time to look at it from their eyes. I lacked true compassion and understanding in that moment. And that makes me quite sad.

After today’s little reprimand (I mean, it wasn’t even a reprimand, really. Just that awareness was given.), I see things a bit differently. I feel that my pendulum is coming back towards center. Thankfully.

I learned, today yessssterday (B & C understand this… Okay, it wasn’t yesterday anymore, but I have to leave this one. *hahaha* ), that properly respecting another, even nature, is to consider a perspective other than your own. Sometimes, you have to switch your lens, look past the filter that’s masking your view, and take a moment to pause and really study what’s going on in front of you before acting.

The lessons just keep coming, and I think it’s because my spirit is truly open to it all. The peace within is growing exponentially.

And the more peace I get, the more inconsequential other aspects of my life become. The things that matter to me, right now in this moment, are: my daughter and her journey, rocking my business, really opening my heart and truly living with authentic grace, and my newfound love for solo travel.

There’s no bull there.

It’s time to calm it down. Just breathe through these moments. Sigh those happy, contented sighs that I do when all is right in my world (Because it’s all good.).

I’m not going to be a bull in a china shop any longer. Yes, of course I can do everything and anything I choose. But that’s not the point. The real lesson here is, I shouldn’t, despite the fact that I can.

It’s time to incorporate a little caution into my life. Embrace the pause. Consider the perspectives of those around me. Because they matter. Especially when I respect and love them. I don’t want to be in a position again where I inadvertently disrespect someone because I don’t even think to show compassion. If I slow down, just a smidge, I can really take a moment and think about how my actions will make another feel.

All I want is to add value in others’ lives. And it’s difficult to do that when you’re behaving like a bull in a china shop. One of the characteristics I find the most admirable is the ability to pause and utilize boundaries. When you’re teetering on the edge of life and death, literally and figuratively, it’s hard to consider anything other than your current situation. And that is totally valid. That space is but momentary. One shouldn’t linger there, I think. That’s far too volatile of a way of living. So, now that I am able to find that balance again, or at least head towards it, I can remember to take a nice breath and then enjoy the pause in that moment.

I suppose old habits die hard. Though I am no longer teetering, my feet aren’t quite firmly planted yet. They’re getting there, though. And as Maya Angelou said, “When you know better, you do better.”

And after these 6 magical days, I do know better.

This has been so much more than a photography workshop. I’m leaving with more than merely knowledge and skills from all the hands-on photography lessons from two absolutely incredibly talented photographers. I’ve learned how to take a proper landscape photo, and even how to take a killer pano, aaaaannnnnnddddd (*wink*) I’ve learned countless other priceless lessons.

This solo travel trip has also given me the realization that Greek is definitely the sexiest language I’ve ever heard spoken and my photographers have an incredible ability to lull me to sleep with their melodic and soothing conversation (I think I lasted 5 minutes on any given road trip before I was laying down and out cold for a nap). And after the daily Greek language lessons and immersion, I’m even walking away with a few phrases that I’ll be incorporating into my life back home (and will be learning more, for sure).

From meaningful life lessons and deep philosophical conversations, to daily Greek language lessons (I’ll figure out oxi one day!), and finally to even the tiniest of details like mastering the fine art of taking a proper sniff, as Billy says about their workshops, “We are an open school.”

And that is absolutely no exaggeration.

I can credit my Greeks with giving me the necessary info to change. I’m done living the frantic lifestyle of being a bull in a china shop. My spirit is at peace. I don’t need anymore bull in my life.

Now that I’ve decided to remove the bull filter, it’s so much easier to see that every moment in our lives is an opportunity to learn and, therefore, to grow. We just have to be willing to see it, reflect on it, and then put in the hard work.

There are some things that have now been firmly rooted in my being. Like the knowledge that I am strong, capable, and enough. And, more importantly, I now know that there is further strength in the restraint. Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should.


life, love

Nailing the Heck Out of Life

A Graceful Catastrophe

Each and every blog I’ve written has been written in the raw moments of the intense emotions storming inside of me. I haven’t filtered my pain. I’ve been open and vulnerable to the blank page before me – and to all of you.

As a verbal processor, it has helped me work through whatever emotions I was feeling at the moment and by the end of each blog, I’ve, for the most part, felt better.

But once I’ve written them, I let them go. I haven’t gone back and read any of my blogs.

Until tonight, that is.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to, really. But for some reason, I’ve been in this challenging head-space lately. It’s even gotten to the point where it’s affecting my workouts, which has been super frustrating. Something has to change. I have to get my mindset right again.

So tonight, I decided to read the first few blogs, from the beginning. And you know what? I am not that person anymore. I’ve felt the change. I’ve known that I’ve blossomed into this different woman. But reading how I thought I should’ve behaved immediately afterwards blows my mind.

I needed to look back in order to move forward and I’m grateful I have the opportunity to do just that, thanks to these blogs.

Back then, I wanted to choose to act with class and to give my ex the grace he didn’t deserve. That was important to me. In those first weeks, that turned into that first month, I was hoping to be an example for my daughter in how you deal with pain. And I thought there was a “right” way to show her how it all should be processed.

I no longer believe that.

I have absolutely yelled at my ex in front of her. I have gotten angry and frustrated and slammed doors with such intensity that I thought perhaps I’d broken them. (I haven’t.)

But I haven’t punched a wall again. So, that’s a win. *smile*

Because I promise you that I have wanted to. So. Many. Times.

And I don’t think it’s wrong to show my daughter that a person can feel such intense anger. It’s real life. For years now, she has experienced the exact same intense anger where she yells – no, screams – at the top of her lungs and throws things and wants to shred things with her teeth and her little fists ball up and she shakes and she just wants an outlet…just like me when I get mad at her daddy. And then, when her anger subsides, her and I discuss it. Calmly. Rationally. And we hug it out.

Now, I don’t hug it out with my ex, but I do apologize to my daughter when she sees me get that angry. And she understands. Because she has that emotion, too.

I’m at a point now where I really don’t care about giving my ex grace or treating him in any special way for my daughter. He’s just there, the father of my daughter, and someone I have to interact with to go over the details of her life. At this point, it doesn’t need to be anything more than that. Calm and civil co-parenting is the current goal. Perhaps someday in the future, we’ll be friends. For now, I’m just not ready yet. Sasha Sloan says it best in her song Ready Yet:

 I just want the bad feelings to end
But there's some shit I can't forget
I don't think I'm ready yet
Hit me up another time
Maybe one day I'll change my mind
You know that I just wanna be your friend again
But there's some shit I can't forget
I don't think I'm ready yet

Too much has happened, too much has been said, so many ridiculously challenging moments have been had in the last 5 months for me to think like I did in those first few weeks after receiving the email.

And he’s surely not as filled with humility like he was at the beginning, either. Which has been challenging for me to deal with, though, I am starting to be able to let that go. So, my daughter sees a vast array of emotions. And we talk about them. I’ve been really quite sad the last couple days. And she barely acknowledges my tears anymore. Not out of a lack of empathy, because she is such a compassionate and sweet soul. But more because she is so used to it. She kind of looks at me sweetly, but then carries on with whatever she was doing in the moment. Because it’s normal.

Emotions are normal. Feeling sad or angry is normal. Feeling happy and laughing is normal. I’m showing her that it’s okay to feel whatever it is she’s feeling. It’s all exactly as it should be.

And maybe that’s a much more valuable lesson?

Through natural conversation, the topic of future step-parents being in her life was brought up. I told her that I would never bring a step-dad into her life that wasn’t an exceptional human…that didn’t cherish both her and I. I told her that if someone were to be a part of our lives like that, it’s because he’d be out of this world and nothing less. And she smiled. And then, with a smirk, she reminded me of her one requirement, that she stated *I think* the day we told her we were separating, or within the first few days, at least. She wants to call her future step-daddy (and step-mommy) “Poopy Head.” I told her that if someone were to be in our lives playing such an important role, he’d absolutely be someone with a sense of humor and would have no problems with his new nickname. And she giggled.

I think these kinds of conversations are healthy and needed – and significant. They are never forced and come about only when she asks questions. I think, a necessary part of giving someone grace, is turning a blind eye to what they did. I don’t want my daughter to ever deny her emotions in order to make someone else feel less rotten about themselves. I am not sorry for my emotions. And I don’t try to hide them. Throughout this whole process, I’ve been an open book. And she has seen me process and battle all along the way.

So this week that she has been with me, she has seen her fair share of my sadness. And we’ve shared happy moments, as well. For example, when she asked me yesterday if I’d gotten any new clients yet, and I told her I had, she got so excited for me. And she was proud of me because it’s this early in the school year and I already have new clients. And, on a different day, she asked me about my day before I even had a chance to ask her about her’s. She cares. She’s thoughtful, She’s so considerate and kind.

It’s been over 5 months since her daddy and I split and just about 2 months since she’s been going back and forth in between two homes. And, while she still has moments where she asks why we can’t get back together (where I honestly respond that there are some things you just can’t come back from, and she seems satisfied with that answer thus far), she is a resilient little soul who is doing just fine. Despite seeing her mommy’s raw emotions. Or maybe it’s in spite of them.

She is thriving. And so am I.

And as I wrote that last sentence, I smiled. Because I believe it again. I haven’t felt it for a few days now. I just haven’t felt right within my world. I think looking back at those first few initial blogs helped me achieve the perspective I needed. I’ve come a long way. And yes, I have a long way to go. Significant personal growth continues to lie ahead in my future. And, that doesn’t take away from the fact that I have undergone a monumental transformation over the last 157 days.

I really enjoy who I am now, especially when the clouds part from overhead and I can see myself clearly. Fearless. Authentic. And ready to explore all the possibilities that now lie along my path.

You know, writing is the most incredible outlet for me. I started this blog tonight feeling so defeated and just kind of beat up. Writing reminded me that my daughter is both healthy and rocking the heck out of her life. She is thrilled about the adventures on her path. She is getting braver (she just told me she wants to be an actress, which is huge, because she’s always been so shy!) and I am going to take a bit of that credit. She is seeing her mama live fearlessly and chase down opportunities that once scared me silent. And she wants to do the same.

So, it’s been just a bit more than 5 months since catastrophe struck our home, and I am now able to clearly see that my daughter and I are absolutely nailing the heck out of this life we’ve been thrown into.

life

The Puddle and the Pause

A Graceful Catastrophe

The amount of interesting people I get to talk to, the whole slew of stories I get to hear now, the amount of life that exists around me, truly astounds me. Like, I seriously feel like I’ve been living under a rock for the last several years! When I spoke with my therapist last week, I told him that I’m working on re-framing this catastrophe as an opportunity. And I’ve had so much opportunity come about since finding out about my ex’s infidelity – more so in the last month, especially.

Part of the reason, I think, is that my energy has shifted. I’m in a much different place now than I was in those first few months. The other significant reason is good ol’ social media. Social media gets such a bad rap but it has genuinely helped to give me these opportunities. People complain about it but I have found it to be an incredible asset in my life. It has given me the gift of connection.

For example, I am now going on a solo trip to Greece, on a photography tour, with someone I met through Instagram. He’s an incredible photographer and his pictures made me want to see, with my own eyes, exactly what his lens captured. So, after talking with him for a bit, I decided to go. We have since talked frequently and I’m starting to see him as my friend. He’s such a positive influence in my life and today, he shared a photographer’s perspective about life.

We were chatting about his day and he’d told me it was “pretty awesome.” Well, pretty awesome doesn’t just happen to ordinary days, does it? So I asked him what was so special that had happened to make it “awesome.” His response was so refreshing it made me pause.

He said, “There’s no need for something special to happen to make your day great. You just make it great.”

Huh. Whoa. Okay.

I was blindsided by that response.

And then, duh! It hit me!

So, we continued talking and he told me, “even the routine of your job makes your day a little better.” Routine – something some people, most people, I dare say, complain about. And he finds joy in it. He then mentioned that thoughts become our reality, which I believe, and I think I may have also written about in a previous blog, but now I can’t remember. I responded with, “The world (our own individual reality) is absolutely the way we choose to see it.”

He mentioned that this concept was a secret in photography, too, and I asked him to clarify. He sent the following picture, saying, simply, “It’s all about perspective.”

Uhhh, wow.

How many times do we miss out on something because we refuse to pause and will ourselves to change our perspective? How many times do we respond to something with a knee-jerk reaction, rather than hesitate and practice the pause?

I have intentionally practiced the pause a couple times today. One time, I went ahead with the communication I had written out earlier in the day and felt very comfortable with that decision. The other time, I hesitated long enough to realize I was wrong (yes, that does happen from time to time! *wink*). And I erased it. Shortly after deleting it, I learned that sending it would’ve made me look rather foolish. I learned a great lesson in that last one today. And I am going to start really working hard at practicing the art of hesitation.

Because we can either choose to see the lousy little puddle that is immediately before us, or we can pause, shift our perspective – even slightly, and end up seeing something that instead, reflects the beauty that is all around us.

And make no mistake about this: it is a choice.

We just have to remember to pause, and maybe even shift a bit, in order to find the right view. And when we do, we become fully capable of seeing our reality in a much different light.

Each and every single one of us is carrying around really heavy baggage that weighs us down. That is merely a side effect of living. We are also constantly surrounded by beauty. It’s, at the very least, annoying enough to deal with our burdens. And for so many of us, it’s downright excruciating at times to try to live with the weight of our pain. So why do we also choose to carry it all in a storm?

Let’s collectively practice the pause, take a breath before reacting, and shift our gaze to the beauty that surrounds us. When we make the conscious efforts to focus on the loveliness that exists in our world, life becomes just a bit more fascinating, more opportunities arise, and the baggage actually becomes a smidge lighter to carry.

And you know what? Carrying that baggage while seeing a rainbow is a far more pleasant experience than sloshing around with it in the storm. So, I will *try to* deliberately and willfully wait out the storm so I can focus on the rainbow that I know will eventually appear, after a long enough pause…even if I am only seeing it through the reflection in a puddle that was formed by the storm.

life

Perspective

A Graceful Catastrophe
Just because I’m right doesn’t mean you’re wrong.

After a weekend away, visiting with friends (and drinking entirely too much), I feel more balanced. I was ready to come home from this trip and I’m starting to get to a place where I’m accepting my reality. Before, I focused on the hurt, in disbelief that this is now my life: 2 failed marriages, a daughter that’s going to grow up in 2 homes, and trying to figure out how not to take the cheating personally.

Now that it’s been about a month, I’m a bit further removed from the hurt. I’m gaining perspective. (*I know this is how I’m feeling today, right now, in this moment and that these jumbled emotions are ever-changing. I also think I’m getting pretty decent at embracing the flood and riding the waves.*)

Today is one of those days where I think my (ex) husband and I will be pretty darn amazing friends one day. Perhaps sooner than later. When I got home tonight, he asked me about my weekend. I shared the ridiculous stories and then he shared his ridiculous evening he had on Saturday. Then, somehow, we found ourselves navigating through a conversation about his infidelity. This isn’t all that uncommon.

For years, we were not the spouses to one another that we should’ve been. When we moved to Colorado, my (ex) husband became quite depressed. With his depression came anger. He was so mean and mad and short-tempered. Rather than have compassion, I became colder. I remember driving home one day, talking with one of my BFF’s, and complaining about how awfully I was being treated. She called me out and said I wasn’t being a supportive wife. Well, of course I wasn’t because I wasn’t liking how I was being treated. Rather than respond with grace, class, and understanding, I turned angry and dismissive.

Because all I wanted was a husband who cherished me.

I wanted to feel loved and since I wasn’t, I started to withhold my love. I’m sure it wasn’t a conscious decision at first. Though after being called out, I didn’t try to improve either. I was so frustrated with how I was being treated that I felt justified in my actions.

Hearing my (ex) husband talk about what transpired is interesting. He knows he did a terrible thing. He knows he is going to have to deal with the consequences for the rest of his life. But during those difficult years, he also just wanted a wife that cherished him. He also felt unloved. He also chose to respond to me with more anger and more frustration.

We were caught up in a terribly vicious cycle that has brought us to where we are today.

We were two people, sad and frustrated for pretty much the same reasons. I think that he knew I wouldn’t quit the marriage, I wasn’t going to throw away the family. Back in September, I decided to give it an honest go, to quit being so angry and stubborn, to be the one that tried. But my efforts went unnoticed because he was already long gone. I was too late in shoving my stubbornness and hurt and anger aside. He’d already done something so awful that, when I found out, quitting the marriage was the only option.

Please don’t misunderstand my message here. I’m not blaming myself for his infidelity, nor am I justifying it. Rather, at least up until last May, we had many missed opportunities to fix what was broken.

I was screaming 6 while he was screaming 9. We were both right. We were both hurt. We were both pretty terrible spouses. Neither of us wanted to take a moment to walk around to the other’s side. Had we taken an honest look, perhaps we wouldn’t be filling out separation paperwork right now.

If there’s anything to learn from this, it is to desperately try to not judge a situation or a person’s actions. Take a walk around and visit it from their angle. Why are they behaving as they are? What do they see from their perspective? Every single person has their own viewpoint, so why is it so hard for us to try and see the world from their view? How arrogant I was, to only have seen my side.

I thought I was an understanding person. I thought I was non-judgmental. But this whole time, for well over the last 5 years, I was giving the person I was supposed to love the most the least slack. I let his actions harden me.

I’m not doing that anymore. At least, not consciously. I want to lead with grace. To come from a place of understanding. To live assuming the best in others.

I hope that if you’re reading this, if you’re connecting to these words in any way, that you reach out to the person who doesn’t deserve your grace. It’s so much easier to judge than it is to understand (as my dad says), but wouldn’t you want to know that you gave everything you had to fix what’s broken? I have no fault in the infidelity, but I do have plenty of fault in being in a difficult marriage. I could’ve been the bigger person. I could’ve stopped being stubborn. I could’ve shown an ounce of compassion to my husband, who was struggling immensely with the move. I didn’t.

I just kept shouting 6.

Get out of that negative cycle that perpetuates a difficult relationship. Be the one to step forward with love, no matter how angry and justified you are.

Stop shouting 6.