...but being that this blog is serving as my personal diary, and the last week and a half has been a bit melancholy, to say the least, I have decided I'm okay with that. Life is a journey for a reason - some roads are bumpy and uphill and some just coast.
I had the most amazing weekend. TB and I spent the weekend with my parents and the kids, and this is the first time in a long time TB has been able to see my children.
We spent the weekend laughing. We played board games, we ate good food, we tickled and giggled and spent time at the library watching an independent short film (my son wants to be a film editor and producer, so this was meaningful for him) and we parted ways today with bittersweet goodbyes until next time.
This was a big step for a few reasons. My ex doesn't know about TB, not because I'm secretive but because this has been complicated and hurtful and he has been physically threatening to both of us should he find out we're together, and as a result I've not felt comfortable telling him. But my children deserve the kind heart and goodness TB gives them, and he deserves the joy and love they bring, and I decided it was time.
I knew it wouldn't be pretty tonight, though, when the past and the present collided and the cat fell headfirst out of the metaphorical bag. Sure enough, (giving the short version here) he called, he screamed, he threatened our lives, and police were called.
Mind you, he has a girlfriend. I thought perhaps he had moved on and we could finally do the same in peace. I hope somehow we still can, because this life I've been living is so wonderful, and my kids are such a part of it, and it breaks my heart that maybe we can't just simply move on and coparent lovingly and I have said I'm Utopian in my views before but I'll probably repeat it again so many times, but I always feel like Occam's Razor is the best way - the simplest idea is usually correct. The path of just signing our finale and moving on to the next chapter haunts me daily, if only it could be so easy.
I finally finished the petition for decree of dissolution of marriage tonight, and I'll file it tomorrow. I should have already done this, I know, but I am so intimidated by the process... so terrified that I'm going to misstep and complicate this further that I keep putting it off and putting it off and now is the time, here is the place, and it's saved to my desktop and ready to file so hopefully tomorrow I feel as courageous as I do tonight and the deed can be done. I know it's only the first step of many but every journey begins with one small step so cheers to that sentiment.
This has been a day of many emotions, and judging from my writing this evening, many run-on sentences. TB is sleeping on the couch because I'm sitting up, feeling anxious, and he didn't want to make me sit alone. I'm watching him, grateful he is still here. He sent me a text earlier... I know we were in the same house but he respects how much written (or typed) words mean to me, I think, and knew sending it to my phone when I could see it with time rather than hear it in the second it would have taken to speak would be so much more impactful. I had apologized for being so complex, for his placement into a complicated situation and his position of recipient of the harshness and anger derived from hurt given to my ex. I explained that at any moment, I understand if he needs to walk away from this, from threatening phone calls, from concern about physical threats and angrily spoken words. He sent me three words, and they spoke volumes.
"You're worth it."
Referencing my earlier blog post, I know my value as a person... but it is a completely rational reason to move on, when your life is being threatened and you're concerned for your well-being and you're being screamed at through the phone, but he stays regardless. I'm glad he does, and I do believe that I'm worth it, and so is he should it have been a reverse situation, but nevertheless I'm glad he believes it, too.
I'm not even sure how to finish my thoughts here, I feel spent but alert, exhausted but unable to rest. I hoped writing some of my emotion out would help, and perhaps it has, yet here I sit, clicking away, with nothing left to say. I'll resolve it by simply saying goodbye... I'll visit again soon.
Sunday, January 22, 2017
Wednesday, January 18, 2017
A somewhat depressing crash course in Life 101
Grief, sadness, anger, loss, resentment... these emotions are filled with such intensity, that to feel any of them leaves the bearer with such a complete sense of exhaustion, there's not even energy left over to explain.
T and I got home from Pop's funeral last night around 7... We spent Friday night through Tuesday evening talking, and baking, and preparing, and mourning, and reading, and loving, and sharing. And all of those -ings are enough to completely break any emotional threshold a person has, whether they be strong (like T) or wrought with emotion (like me.) I felt so blessed to be included as family, but I wish I could have eased some of the pain.
Today has been gray all around. The gray sky has no seam, it's a circle of monotony that knows no limit by compass; whichever direction you look, the earth meets the sky and all is gray. It's the perfect physical manifestation for what's left over inside after spending days mourning a great loss.
There are lessons in all things, bits of imparted wisdom dangling off the tree of life, just waiting to be plucked down by anyone paying enough mind to the universe to catch it before it falls... I think T is learning the value of time and the sheer weight of knowing that it can't be replaced. He's in the process of all of the "I wish's," the part where you see things and say "We were always going to go there, but we never made it... I wanted to take him to see that, but we never figured out a time..." and that's the most tragic realization of all. I'm not sure he knows this is what's happening, and I'm not sure I'm correct in my observation... but it's what I'm hearing and you better believe I'm listening.
I remember when my mother died, and I learned the value of time. It was the same moment, the same instant in fact, that I also learned the value of words. When dealing with intangible ideas, you can't take anything away. You can't unlearn or unsee or unhear or unthink something once its presence has been made clear. The same instant I realized how valuable the time with my mother was, I realized how valuable the words were we shared. These are two intricate stories I'll share another time, maybe, but for now I'll suffice it to say that losing someone close is a crash course in Life 101, whether we want it or not, and we'd all do well to realize that lesson is coming and grab it while we have the chance. Words spoken and unspoken are of equal importance... somehow we find it easy to let hate fall out and love hide within.... how often do you look at someone you love and just simply say the kindness you're thinking? Probably not often enough. How often do you look at the same person and tell them their hair is out of place, or they need to cut their nails, or they should have taken out the trash or could have made dinner or on and on and on until you're blue in the face with criticism? Probably more times than you care to admit.
Life 101 - bring a notebook. Write it down. Don't forget it, this isn't a class you can take again.
Friday, January 13, 2017
Dear T,
Losing someone is never easy, especially when it's one of the closest people in your life.
Watching someone you love lose someone is an entirely different kind of hard. It's not as hard, not nearly, but it's frustrating and infuriating to sit by and watch the deepest and most sorrowful hurt attack the person you love most, and be completely helpless in making it stop. You can't take it away, you can't say anything, you can't do anything...
The Boyfriend's grandfather passed away last night. This was an incredible man, a man that built a family and a legacy that will live on for so long, the man responsible for bringing up some of the best people I've ever had the honor of knowing. TB was raised by this man, and my heart is broken into a million pieces for him.
Having lost someone that close before, I know there is absolutely nothing anyone can say or do to make this better, and it shouldn't be better. The amount of pain is equal to the amount of love, and it's a blessing, albeit in disguise, that this man was worthy of such heartbreak. And yet, though I've been on the other side and I've cried and screamed and begged and pleaded and have never been the same since, I still sit here helplessly watching as this pain invades people I care about so deeply.
We do our best to be whatever we need to be in times like this, but people receive grief so differently, no way is the right way. I realize how southern I am, my pull... my core being, my instinct and insatiable desire... is to feed them all. To make casseroles and desserts and things that freeze well and easy to grab snacks and foods that don't require many dishes, you name it, I want them to eat it. I am fighting this, but I'm positive TB will have a buffet of food to choose from tonight, and a lot packaged up to take with him for his family, too.
What to tell him, though... I guess since I'm not sure whether to tell him or not, I'll say it here... Maybe he can read it someday, maybe not. But either way, these are things he should know.
Dear T,
I love you so much. You are so loved, all around in a huge circle, not just me but your mom and Nanny and Pop and all the rest. You have come so far and you have made all of us so proud, especially Pop. I know you're scared. I know you're worried that he didn't know who you have become, that your past sometimes eats away at you. I didn't get to spend the time with you both together the way I wish I had, but I can say this. You were his person, his favorite. You brought him comfort and joy and laughter and care and love, pure and unfiltered love, over and over again in waves and made his life better. You were the bright spot and baby, that's why this hurts so bad. You walk around and you know this is a whole different world, a world existing without a key piece, and you wonder how these strangers in stores, at work, all around can just go on as if nothing has happened, as if it's just another day. You realize that they don't know, they have no idea the loss to the world that has just transpired. There are things that will never be the same again... things that I know and things that only you know. You're going to look at ketchup with a filter now, a muted and subdued filter. You're going to think about Pop every time you put ketchup on absurd things. You're going to look at guacamole all different now, with a muted and subdued filter. Fishing, the shows you watched together, the food you ate, the drinks you drank, the memories you shared have now moved from the category of silly childhood memories to fond but painful reminders, and you'll do them more and you'll do them less because of it. But baby, know this... you made these memories for him, too. Every ounce of joy you feel through your pain when you look back and see his face and hear his voice and are reminded of why he matters so much... that is matched in how he felt for you. You matter too, to him, to all of us. He knows you were there for him, all the way to the end, and he knows that you wanted to make him proud, and he is. He is proud. Sometimes you're going to completely lose your shit, and cry, and your chest will hurt, and that's just because he did such a damn fine job loving you, and those moments should be treasured because every tear you shed is a piece of love you send to him, every time it hurts it's proof that his existence was worth it. And then those times will be fewer and fewer and less and less, and someday the filter you see your memories through will be slightly less clouded, always a little sad, but they'll be fond again, they'll be the things you tell people that will never understand. I don't know what I can do for you, for your mom, for Nanny... But I will watch carefully and do my best to be whatever you need me to be right now, and I'm sorry if I'm getting it wrong. Just know that I'm here, and I'm not the only one... your network has grown and expanded and is stronger than ever and this web we all have woven is here to catch you if you need to fall. I know you won't, you're the strongest man I've ever known... but it's here all the same.
Love you more...
Me
Watching someone you love lose someone is an entirely different kind of hard. It's not as hard, not nearly, but it's frustrating and infuriating to sit by and watch the deepest and most sorrowful hurt attack the person you love most, and be completely helpless in making it stop. You can't take it away, you can't say anything, you can't do anything...
The Boyfriend's grandfather passed away last night. This was an incredible man, a man that built a family and a legacy that will live on for so long, the man responsible for bringing up some of the best people I've ever had the honor of knowing. TB was raised by this man, and my heart is broken into a million pieces for him.
Having lost someone that close before, I know there is absolutely nothing anyone can say or do to make this better, and it shouldn't be better. The amount of pain is equal to the amount of love, and it's a blessing, albeit in disguise, that this man was worthy of such heartbreak. And yet, though I've been on the other side and I've cried and screamed and begged and pleaded and have never been the same since, I still sit here helplessly watching as this pain invades people I care about so deeply.
We do our best to be whatever we need to be in times like this, but people receive grief so differently, no way is the right way. I realize how southern I am, my pull... my core being, my instinct and insatiable desire... is to feed them all. To make casseroles and desserts and things that freeze well and easy to grab snacks and foods that don't require many dishes, you name it, I want them to eat it. I am fighting this, but I'm positive TB will have a buffet of food to choose from tonight, and a lot packaged up to take with him for his family, too.
What to tell him, though... I guess since I'm not sure whether to tell him or not, I'll say it here... Maybe he can read it someday, maybe not. But either way, these are things he should know.
Dear T,
I love you so much. You are so loved, all around in a huge circle, not just me but your mom and Nanny and Pop and all the rest. You have come so far and you have made all of us so proud, especially Pop. I know you're scared. I know you're worried that he didn't know who you have become, that your past sometimes eats away at you. I didn't get to spend the time with you both together the way I wish I had, but I can say this. You were his person, his favorite. You brought him comfort and joy and laughter and care and love, pure and unfiltered love, over and over again in waves and made his life better. You were the bright spot and baby, that's why this hurts so bad. You walk around and you know this is a whole different world, a world existing without a key piece, and you wonder how these strangers in stores, at work, all around can just go on as if nothing has happened, as if it's just another day. You realize that they don't know, they have no idea the loss to the world that has just transpired. There are things that will never be the same again... things that I know and things that only you know. You're going to look at ketchup with a filter now, a muted and subdued filter. You're going to think about Pop every time you put ketchup on absurd things. You're going to look at guacamole all different now, with a muted and subdued filter. Fishing, the shows you watched together, the food you ate, the drinks you drank, the memories you shared have now moved from the category of silly childhood memories to fond but painful reminders, and you'll do them more and you'll do them less because of it. But baby, know this... you made these memories for him, too. Every ounce of joy you feel through your pain when you look back and see his face and hear his voice and are reminded of why he matters so much... that is matched in how he felt for you. You matter too, to him, to all of us. He knows you were there for him, all the way to the end, and he knows that you wanted to make him proud, and he is. He is proud. Sometimes you're going to completely lose your shit, and cry, and your chest will hurt, and that's just because he did such a damn fine job loving you, and those moments should be treasured because every tear you shed is a piece of love you send to him, every time it hurts it's proof that his existence was worth it. And then those times will be fewer and fewer and less and less, and someday the filter you see your memories through will be slightly less clouded, always a little sad, but they'll be fond again, they'll be the things you tell people that will never understand. I don't know what I can do for you, for your mom, for Nanny... But I will watch carefully and do my best to be whatever you need me to be right now, and I'm sorry if I'm getting it wrong. Just know that I'm here, and I'm not the only one... your network has grown and expanded and is stronger than ever and this web we all have woven is here to catch you if you need to fall. I know you won't, you're the strongest man I've ever known... but it's here all the same.
Love you more...
Me
Wednesday, January 11, 2017
Playing catch-up with my soul
Divorces are hard.
I feel so conflicted about that, they shouldn't be hard on one hand... When two adults decide that their directions are not the same, it seems they should be able to come to an agreement... you get this, I'll take that, I'm sorry I hurt you, I forgive you for hurting me, and let's arrange the kids in a way that best suits them not us. The end.
I also understand that it should be hard because the whole sanctity of marriage should remain intact, whether it be a man and a woman or a man and a man or two people that don't identify either way, stating that you promise to love and accept til death do us part, that should be honored to the best of our ability.
Conflicted.
Today is a conflicted day. I'm trying to get a divorce finalized and the emotions that stir and hurt that comes back to the surface make it hard to speak to each other. Not in an argumentative and finger pointing way, but more wistful, I wish this hadn't worked out this way... I tried, I did all I knew how to do, I'm so sorry. It's emotionally exhausting and I can only speak for myself but I wish it could just be finished.
If I've learned anything, I've learned that true love is so anecdotal. So many people have stories of childhood romance, young love that is still burning bright thirty, forty, fifty years later. Of course, even the strongest love faces hurdles, probably almost daily. Marriage takes work. It takes communication and sacrifice on both parts, and the fairy tale is real but so is the effort put in to create the story.
But young love that survives has come to feel so rare, so treasured to me... it's so hard to grow together into adulthood and stay on the same path, going the same direction as your partner, even after all of your growing and developing is done. I do believe in soulmates, and I do believe in true love, in so many forms, but I don't know that I believe anymore that true love can always survive every circumstance, that love really conquers all.
I think, I hope, that I'm wrong. I think I just feel this way at this moment right now, I think the truth is that sometimes what we are recognizing as our one true love is such because we haven't fully prepared ourselves for who we need to be in order to be the best of ourselves when it's time to commit to our life's purpose, whether that be "the one" or "the career" or our children or whatever the thing is that gives you purpose on earth... I think the truth is that we have to open our hearts and minds to the realization that when something is finished, our souls know it is so and are ready to move on, and the rest of us just has to catch up.
I think that's what happened to me. One day, after years of trying and trying and trying again, years of hoping for growth and peace, I had to realize that I wasn't giving up or giving in. I was just catching up with my tired soul.
I can say this... I am emotionally drained today. I'm ready for my past to be at rest so it can catch up with my soul. My soul, however, finally feels at peace for the first time in a very long time, and for that I am grateful.
I feel so conflicted about that, they shouldn't be hard on one hand... When two adults decide that their directions are not the same, it seems they should be able to come to an agreement... you get this, I'll take that, I'm sorry I hurt you, I forgive you for hurting me, and let's arrange the kids in a way that best suits them not us. The end.
I also understand that it should be hard because the whole sanctity of marriage should remain intact, whether it be a man and a woman or a man and a man or two people that don't identify either way, stating that you promise to love and accept til death do us part, that should be honored to the best of our ability.
Conflicted.
Today is a conflicted day. I'm trying to get a divorce finalized and the emotions that stir and hurt that comes back to the surface make it hard to speak to each other. Not in an argumentative and finger pointing way, but more wistful, I wish this hadn't worked out this way... I tried, I did all I knew how to do, I'm so sorry. It's emotionally exhausting and I can only speak for myself but I wish it could just be finished.
If I've learned anything, I've learned that true love is so anecdotal. So many people have stories of childhood romance, young love that is still burning bright thirty, forty, fifty years later. Of course, even the strongest love faces hurdles, probably almost daily. Marriage takes work. It takes communication and sacrifice on both parts, and the fairy tale is real but so is the effort put in to create the story.
But young love that survives has come to feel so rare, so treasured to me... it's so hard to grow together into adulthood and stay on the same path, going the same direction as your partner, even after all of your growing and developing is done. I do believe in soulmates, and I do believe in true love, in so many forms, but I don't know that I believe anymore that true love can always survive every circumstance, that love really conquers all.
I think, I hope, that I'm wrong. I think I just feel this way at this moment right now, I think the truth is that sometimes what we are recognizing as our one true love is such because we haven't fully prepared ourselves for who we need to be in order to be the best of ourselves when it's time to commit to our life's purpose, whether that be "the one" or "the career" or our children or whatever the thing is that gives you purpose on earth... I think the truth is that we have to open our hearts and minds to the realization that when something is finished, our souls know it is so and are ready to move on, and the rest of us just has to catch up.
I think that's what happened to me. One day, after years of trying and trying and trying again, years of hoping for growth and peace, I had to realize that I wasn't giving up or giving in. I was just catching up with my tired soul.
I can say this... I am emotionally drained today. I'm ready for my past to be at rest so it can catch up with my soul. My soul, however, finally feels at peace for the first time in a very long time, and for that I am grateful.
Sunday, January 8, 2017
Have I mentioned my inconsistency?
I can't believe we have only had one week of 2017 and I've already missed two blog posts. Maybe even three.
I'm working on it. Baby steps.
Honestly, there isn't much to say about the last couple of days... It's been cold and snowy and pleasant and simple and sort of disastrous in parts and... well, I'll tell a funny story.
The Boyfriend and I woke up on Friday morning, as did the rest of Oklahoma (mostly), to blankets of snow covering all the things. It was lovely to look at but, as is usually the case, it was a pain in the ass to navigate our life through, particularly for The Boyfriend. He woke up first, before the sun, and took Major and Molly (The Dogs) outside. After, he came back in and woke me with news of snow. The morning so began pleasantly enough, I made breakfast and we casually got dressed for the day. The Boyfriend went out to start my car so it could thaw out and barely inches from the front door, lost his footing on the slick polished concrete and faceplanted directly into the snow. Then, bless his heart, after I brushed him off, he busted his head getting into the car hard enough to rattle his teeth. He came back in to a clogged toilet (we won't point fingers at who was to blame for that) and couldn't use the restroom. At all. We finally leave, he pumps gas in 10 degree air, and two miles later... a flat tire. He handled all of these things like a champ and barely complained, but you could tell this was not a day he was feeling positive about. A couple hours later, a healthy dose of perspective made its way into his afternoon, as it usually does.
A homeless man asked him how his day was. The Boyfriend started telling him about his rough morning, then the realization sank in that he was complaining about his toilet, his house, his front porch, his car to a person that literally has none of the above.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again... perspective.
What a blessing Friday ended up being... So much laughter (albeit at his expense) and such a fulfilling and contented life we lead, and I'm just glad he's open minded enough to clean his inner window when it starts getting a little fuzzy... He's pretty good at seeing things clearly.
As I sit here typing, I can see him in my peripheral vision, just standing in the doorway, watching Indiana Jones, a pleasant smile touching the corners of his lips for no reason other than the fact that it's his go-to face... Right now, my window is feeling pretty clean too.
I'm working on it. Baby steps.
Honestly, there isn't much to say about the last couple of days... It's been cold and snowy and pleasant and simple and sort of disastrous in parts and... well, I'll tell a funny story.
The Boyfriend and I woke up on Friday morning, as did the rest of Oklahoma (mostly), to blankets of snow covering all the things. It was lovely to look at but, as is usually the case, it was a pain in the ass to navigate our life through, particularly for The Boyfriend. He woke up first, before the sun, and took Major and Molly (The Dogs) outside. After, he came back in and woke me with news of snow. The morning so began pleasantly enough, I made breakfast and we casually got dressed for the day. The Boyfriend went out to start my car so it could thaw out and barely inches from the front door, lost his footing on the slick polished concrete and faceplanted directly into the snow. Then, bless his heart, after I brushed him off, he busted his head getting into the car hard enough to rattle his teeth. He came back in to a clogged toilet (we won't point fingers at who was to blame for that) and couldn't use the restroom. At all. We finally leave, he pumps gas in 10 degree air, and two miles later... a flat tire. He handled all of these things like a champ and barely complained, but you could tell this was not a day he was feeling positive about. A couple hours later, a healthy dose of perspective made its way into his afternoon, as it usually does.
A homeless man asked him how his day was. The Boyfriend started telling him about his rough morning, then the realization sank in that he was complaining about his toilet, his house, his front porch, his car to a person that literally has none of the above.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again... perspective.
What a blessing Friday ended up being... So much laughter (albeit at his expense) and such a fulfilling and contented life we lead, and I'm just glad he's open minded enough to clean his inner window when it starts getting a little fuzzy... He's pretty good at seeing things clearly.
As I sit here typing, I can see him in my peripheral vision, just standing in the doorway, watching Indiana Jones, a pleasant smile touching the corners of his lips for no reason other than the fact that it's his go-to face... Right now, my window is feeling pretty clean too.
Thursday, January 5, 2017
Dear Cari, I'm sorry...
I did ask permission before posting the above chat with my friend... She was reading my blog (so kind of you, by the way, Cari) and she referenced my post from yesterday. I responded quickly, without thought, and after a few drinks very late in the evening. I dislike my response greatly. I apologize, Cari... I answered like a twit, like Katherine Heigl would have answered in the voiceover at the end of a romcom, and no one should have to read Katherine Heigl's voiceover to themselves from a chat sent to them at 12:46 am. No one.
First of all, the quote in question:
"But the simple joy of waking up every day and living my life is so overwhelming, it has it's own face now."
Let me tell you a story.
June 16, 2016... This is a day that I'll never forget. This is a story I can only tell here, in this safe spot, where no one knows I write things except the people I choose to tell.
This is the day I broke. I am not always good with my finances, anyone that knows me well knows this about me. It's never an intentional issue, I just get ADHD'd out and forget things sometimes until I go to flip the switch and the light doesn't come on but the light in my head does and I realize oh shit, if I don't pay the lights they don't work, isn't that what adulting is all about?? Paying the lights???
I can completely understand a partner being upset when something big like lights or, say, rent (as was the case on June 16, 2016) is forgotten. I can understand being frustrated. I can understand not patting someone on the head and saying "There, there, little Lindsay... We didn't need a place to live anyway." It was not that severe, it just required a phone call and a payment to the owner of the house and a sincere apology to remedy, but still. I can definitely understand someone's frustration.
What I can't understand is how anyone that loves someone can scream so loudly that the phone can be placed on the dash while the receiver of the screaming is driving and still be heard clearly. What I can't understand is how words can so easily fall out of a mouth... words like cunt, and bitch, and waste, and burden, and phrases intermingled with those words like you ruin everything, you're failing your family, you're the worst thing, you, you, you youyouyou... What I can't understand, and what broke me that day, was the realization that these words, this tone, this exact situation-whether brought on by money or by unwashed clothes or dishes or unswept floors or being late coming home or any discrepancy at all had the same reaction. What broke me was the realization that I didn't have to believe it to be true. What broke me further was the realization that I had always believed it to be true.
I'm all about taking responsibility, and not being perfect, and working together as a team to remedy those imperfections so that we can grow and change for the better as people.
That day I decided I was done being a one man team. I was finished with the knot in my stomach as I drove home every single day, to a house with three people living inside, two that ran up to greet me with kisses and hugs every day and one that didn't move from his spot in front of the TV, then began a completely redundant list daily of things I did wrong or didn't do at all.
I was done believing that no one could ever want me because I'm overweight, because I'm too tall for a woman to be attractive, because I sometimes forget to pay a bill, because I have imperfections. Because I'll never be good enough.
June 16, 2016 was the day that I figured out once and for all that I'm fucking good enough.
So a better response, Cari, is this (and I know it's the very best of all of the responses because I'm typing it with tears streaming, and I've tapped into that part of myself that I am still working on, and that I occasionally find bits of floating around that need putting back together, and thank you for your late night message because now one of those pieces is rightfully back in it's little place.)
While having someone in my life now that also genuinely believes that I'm good enough, better, even, than I could ever give myself credit for, is very nice and peaceful and wonderful, he wouldn't be here without this realization...
I am fucking enough.
I am smart, and beautiful, and overweight, and tall, and beautiful, and smart, and capable, and brilliant, and one in seven billion and counting, and there is no one else that is me and that is fucking enough.
That belief, that knowledge, allows my eyes to close peacefully at night and open like a Disney princess in the morning and Beyonce should be jealous some days because my entire life changed with the one simple yet complicated realization that words are not always true and people we trust with our hearts are not always kind and trustworthy and we don't need them to give us worth in the first place so why, oh why, Cari, do we keep insisting on placing our self worth and value in the hands of someone else?? No one in the world is good enough to hold our self worth in the palm of their hands.
That, sweet Cari, is why I am overwhelmed with the simplicity of existing now. I hope I never lose sight of the sheer gift of waking up every day to peace, and joy, and quiet happiness with exactly who I am and exactly what I have and everything else just seems to fall into place.
Finding a love that appreciates that has value and worth on it's own, away from that, but that kind of love can never exist without self love first.
You'll get there... you're fucking enough, too.
Wednesday, January 4, 2017
My obligatory post for the day...
Today I have nothing to say. I've had one of the best weeks I've ever had, and nothing special has happened. It's only Wednesday and "I'm on a roller coaster that only goes up, my friend."
The mere act of existing and eating and drinking and living and loving has overwhelmed me with the simplest of joy with no explanation required.
I have no deep thoughts, no wisdom, and no ponderings of the existentialism of our existence.
Today I am simply happy. I have had a meal prepared with love by someone I love, and drink poured by the same, and music and laughter and all negativity be damned.
Today, I am.
This is my obligatory post for the day.
The mere act of existing and eating and drinking and living and loving has overwhelmed me with the simplest of joy with no explanation required.
I have no deep thoughts, no wisdom, and no ponderings of the existentialism of our existence.
Today I am simply happy. I have had a meal prepared with love by someone I love, and drink poured by the same, and music and laughter and all negativity be damned.
Today, I am.
This is my obligatory post for the day.
Tuesday, January 3, 2017
The Best of Both Worlds
It's so funny how, despite knowing the choices we make are the very best ones, we sometimes find ourselves reflecting back and trying to convince ourselves that we should have chosen differently.
Even with simple things... a meal at a restaurant. Every time I order the chicken, my date orders the steak and I look longingly at his plate and instantly regret my choice. Of course, it would have been the same if I had ordered the steak, but the point here is the psychology behind our mistrust of ourselves and our ability to know what we need. Luckily, I've found someone that always orders the steak if I order the chicken, then grabs a knife and splits both meals so we always get the best of both worlds.
It took me a long time to find someone that would do that, such a small metaphor for such a large statement. I always felt that happiness was in seeking out the joy in every situation, searching high and low for a glimmer of light and holding on to it tightly until it's all that you see despite the darkness around you. I thought that happiness takes work, means being adaptable and grateful and seeing the silver lining in a sky full of dark clouds.
I was right... Happiness is definitely that, and having that ability to find the needle of pleasure in a haystack of pain is so vastly important, because life sometimes hands us haystacks and when you're a magnet to the needle it's a lot easier to deal with those situations.
But I was wrong about one thing. Life isn't just one of those haystacks. In fact, they're pretty few and far between. Of course, life isn't a Lifetime movie romance and won't always consist of sunshine and roses, because thorns and storms need to have their place too. But it's not a disgrace to not always have to work for your happy, it's not lazy for it to come to you naturally because you deserve it. Because you're a provider of happy yourself for others, too.
When I sit back and reflect, I can't think of a single time in my life past the age of 20 that involved being genuinely happy. Not silver lining happy, but genuinely happy without even trying- so happy I feel like I could burst. I had lots of moments, especially with my kids.. oh, they've forever been my silver lining even though sometimes they can be the source of the storm because I love them so much. But now I'm seeing this life in front of me and the light is so bright, the clouds are all faded away in the distance. They're still there, because life is a complicated creature filled with veins and arteries taking twists and turns around every corner, a multi-faceted entity with so many faces it's rarely recognizable. But the simple joy of waking up every day and living my life is so overwhelming, it has it's own face now. I see it when I open my eyes, and I still see it when I close my eyes.
And yet, I still sometimes wonder about my choices and whether or not I'm making the right ones. Not just for me, but for that face, so that it stays smiling as well. The constant battle between self improvement and self acceptance can never be won, for it leads us to be the best we can be while staying comfortable with who we are now... but it can be a tiresome fight. (Whew, I should print that out and get it cross stitched on a pillow... that was insightful as hell.)
The last few days I've been questioning myself and my choices quite a lot, mostly in regards to my finances and my career, but also in regards to how my family unit is at the moment and what I could have done to change the current situation in which we live. But I know that this will pass, this season of my life, and the next one will hold insight I'm learning now. So for the moment, I just need to sit and listen to all of the little voices and wisps of energy that are showing me the way, so that I can apply them in the next phase of existence and be grateful that I paid attention. The important part is knowing that I am doing my best, and understanding that I'm still learning along the way, because we are all in this for the very first time... And never, ever underestimate the power of that huge silver lining.
Until tomorrow, friends...
Even with simple things... a meal at a restaurant. Every time I order the chicken, my date orders the steak and I look longingly at his plate and instantly regret my choice. Of course, it would have been the same if I had ordered the steak, but the point here is the psychology behind our mistrust of ourselves and our ability to know what we need. Luckily, I've found someone that always orders the steak if I order the chicken, then grabs a knife and splits both meals so we always get the best of both worlds.
It took me a long time to find someone that would do that, such a small metaphor for such a large statement. I always felt that happiness was in seeking out the joy in every situation, searching high and low for a glimmer of light and holding on to it tightly until it's all that you see despite the darkness around you. I thought that happiness takes work, means being adaptable and grateful and seeing the silver lining in a sky full of dark clouds.
I was right... Happiness is definitely that, and having that ability to find the needle of pleasure in a haystack of pain is so vastly important, because life sometimes hands us haystacks and when you're a magnet to the needle it's a lot easier to deal with those situations.
But I was wrong about one thing. Life isn't just one of those haystacks. In fact, they're pretty few and far between. Of course, life isn't a Lifetime movie romance and won't always consist of sunshine and roses, because thorns and storms need to have their place too. But it's not a disgrace to not always have to work for your happy, it's not lazy for it to come to you naturally because you deserve it. Because you're a provider of happy yourself for others, too.
When I sit back and reflect, I can't think of a single time in my life past the age of 20 that involved being genuinely happy. Not silver lining happy, but genuinely happy without even trying- so happy I feel like I could burst. I had lots of moments, especially with my kids.. oh, they've forever been my silver lining even though sometimes they can be the source of the storm because I love them so much. But now I'm seeing this life in front of me and the light is so bright, the clouds are all faded away in the distance. They're still there, because life is a complicated creature filled with veins and arteries taking twists and turns around every corner, a multi-faceted entity with so many faces it's rarely recognizable. But the simple joy of waking up every day and living my life is so overwhelming, it has it's own face now. I see it when I open my eyes, and I still see it when I close my eyes.
And yet, I still sometimes wonder about my choices and whether or not I'm making the right ones. Not just for me, but for that face, so that it stays smiling as well. The constant battle between self improvement and self acceptance can never be won, for it leads us to be the best we can be while staying comfortable with who we are now... but it can be a tiresome fight. (Whew, I should print that out and get it cross stitched on a pillow... that was insightful as hell.)
The last few days I've been questioning myself and my choices quite a lot, mostly in regards to my finances and my career, but also in regards to how my family unit is at the moment and what I could have done to change the current situation in which we live. But I know that this will pass, this season of my life, and the next one will hold insight I'm learning now. So for the moment, I just need to sit and listen to all of the little voices and wisps of energy that are showing me the way, so that I can apply them in the next phase of existence and be grateful that I paid attention. The important part is knowing that I am doing my best, and understanding that I'm still learning along the way, because we are all in this for the very first time... And never, ever underestimate the power of that huge silver lining.
Until tomorrow, friends...
Sunday, January 1, 2017
A whispering thing with feathers, smiling from the threshold...
What is it about New Year's Day that brings about this introspective feeling of change and growth?
I think it's instilled in us from such a young age that as we progress through life, we naturally face each new year with an opportunistic perspective of renewal.
Honestly, it's one day later than yesterday... But somehow it feels different. A new year, all new possibilities, new chances to make this the best year of our lives. (I'm aware that sounds like a line from a John Hughes movie... I should Google it. It probably is.)
I woke up today and felt such peace with where I'm at in my life. There are so many things that need to be progressed but what is life's purpose if we aren't consistently moving forward?
Around the world, I imagine there are people set on making change today. I found this quote by Alfred Tennyson... oh, how I loved it.
"Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering 'It will be happier'..."
I got literal chills when I read it. Doesn't hope do exactly that, gracefully and elegantly seep in like quiet tendrils of smoke through doorways and open windows, filling us with affirmation and a calm sense of purpose for whatever the thing is we're looking forward to?
I can sometimes have an ultimately Utopian view of the world, I'm comfortable in that knowledge and to be quite honest, I much prefer it that way. I love viewing life through rose tinted glasses, and I never understood why that felt problematic to some people... I mean, we have to live life somehow, and we only get one shot (unless you're of the reincarnation sort, in which case I suppose that's untrue.) But regardless, if you have two ways to live - one in which life is real and cold and hard and people are cruel and children are sometimes sick and puppies are abandoned in warehouses and Trump is President-Elect (ugh), why would you not choose to view it differently? It's not like you can go back at the end and change the way you looked around you for all those years. I'd much rather reflect back someday and feel comfortable that not only was I intelligent enough to realize the cold, hard facts are just that - but that I was also wise enough to see the good over the bad as many times as possible, to understand that puppies are abandoned but that there are also good people out there doing their best to save every one. That children are sometimes sick, but that there are good people out there doing their best to save every one. That President-Elect Trump exists... but there are good people out there that voted against him.
I've always believed firmly, regardless of basis in spirituality or religion or faith or the Universe or whatever the thing is that you believe, that life must always have equilibrium, a yin and a yang to everything. For every ounce of wisdom and brilliance, there is an equal amount of something on the other end, balancing it out. For every bit of creativity, there must be an equal bit of crazy. To feel love and passion and joy deeply and immensely... you just as deeply experience all-encompassing sorrow and pain. This is exactly as it should be. If we didn't understand the sheer tragedy of a broken heart, we would never hold close the value of the people that help repair it, and the love that fills it after.
But again, I digress from my purpose here... Hope.
"Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, that sings the tune without the words and never stops at all."
Oh, Emily Dickinson, between you and Mr. Tennyson, no poet shall ever have to define hope for us again. You've both nailed it squarely on the head. Such a quiet and understated feeling hope can be. Today, I intend to revel in it, as I always do on New Year's Day, as I sit back and plan all of the ways in which I can be a happier and more fulfilled person in the coming year. My changes are small and big... I want to adopt a cleaning system so that my new house remains consistently tidy and stress-free to live in. I want to live a pescatarian lifestyle. I want to become healthier. I want to be a better mother. Better lover. Better friend.
I like to think that though, as with the tides of majority, I have not held onto my New year's resolutions consistently throughout the years past (for what am I if consistent in my non-consistency) I will, of course, be different this year. I believe this to be true because I am already so very different this year. Last year, 2016, I made the biggest changes of my life, and who I am as a person is entirely different than who I was on this day a year ago... so you see, it's not completely out of line to think, to believe, that this year my resolutions will be approached differently as well. Considering this little slice of blog space is one of them, should I succeed, I'm sure it will be well documented here.
Hope, my friends... The thing with feathers, smiling from the threshold... I welcome you in.
Happy New Year to you and yours, and may hope find you as well.
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