Up with the chickens and off to get my early morning cardio in. Have officially reduced my work schedule. Time to tighten the purse strings and my body... really focused on getting fit and strong again and sticking with a regular exercise and diet routine. Have almost cut out drinking, except for weekend 1-2 glasses of wine. Yay me!! Processing so many options for the future but okay living in today, uncertain about my next step and making the best of what is...

Peace out.

I've let cobwebs grow on this blog... but let's try and turn that around now, shall we?



Mark has been gone for 9 months... in fact, now I can say he died "last year". Strange - because time has simultaneously been frozen and moved at lightening speed since he left. I am trying, working towards, struggling to, accept the loss. The new "we" that is my family... trying to fight the urgency inside me to run, hide and "fix" the broken pieces. It is an uphill battle.



Things that make me smile and feel good... spending real time with my children, connecting with people, being loved and sharing love, being touched and feeling feminine and alive, exercising and moving my body, eating well and not abusing food, not abusing alcohol, sleeping enough, taking time out to tell people how I feel, stopping long enough to know how I feel, being home in my jammies, feeling beautiful and whole and good enough.



Journaling has always helped me connect. And I will try to be a more consistent blogger.

Taking stock

It's been more than a year since my last post here. Wow. Reading through my entire blog is just... well... humbling. I was on a journey to find space for myself and to be healthy inside and out in the face of incredibly stressful circumstances. I noticed that my blog pretty much fell off shortly after I went back to work at my law firm because that was also the end of the space and time to explore yoga/exercise, meditation and raw food the way I had previously. And those 3 elements were really limbs of the chair I was perched precariously on...

To catch up, Mark passed away on April 7, 2009 - almost 3 months ago. And while our marriage was really not much of a marriage for the last 2 years, he was still the center of my universe and the only father my children ever really knew. I hated him, loved him, resented him, cared for him, cried on him, yelled at him, and wished him away nearly every day and that was my world for so very long... I was stuck in place and I could blame all of that "stuckness" on him.

Now, he's gone. I can't yell at him, cry on him, resent him, wish him away or ignore him. He just isn't anymore. He's memories now. And that's so strange... and where does that leave me now? I'm just starting to try to fit the pieces of myself back together. And this journal reminded me to go back to those three reliable and sturdy limbs for support. That they will help me get to a safe and happy place. They will clear the cobwebs and calm the intense pain and loneliness inside me.

Tomorrow I promise to put myself first. Tomorrow I promise to treat my body with kindness, respect and abundant love. Tomorrow I promise to start fresh...

Rebirth

Like a pheonix rising from the ashes... that is what I picture. A day when I can shed this old, hardened skin and enter the life I was meant to live. Doing what I was meant to do. Being who I was meant to be. Loving as I want to love....
I went to see a naturopath and while I came to talk about my myriad aches and pains, hair loss and fatigue, the coversation quickly shifted to my very full plate and excessive level of stress. And most importantly, my feeling of helplessness - of not being able to actualize in my relationship or my career. Things he could not wave a wand and take away. Things I would have to learn to live through instead of jumping over and ignoring. Learning to lower my reactivity - meditation, yoga, positive affirmations and a slowing of my heart rate through biofeedback techniques. He asked me if I'd come there to test him as I already knew what I had to do and what I needed. Maybe I just needed confirmation or maybe I was looking for someone to show me an easier, more direct route.
I am fixated on the year 2011. The year I want to move into my dream house, in a warm climate, and pursue a career that is meaningful to me. Just the thought of it makes me smile. The thought that life will not always be like this. That I will not always be trapped like a caged animal beating the bars of my cage and then trying to find peace and quiet in solitary rituals in the corner.
I long for friendship - true female friendship. I long for romance and real love in a healthy relationship. I long to meet people, make a difference in their lives through teaching something I feel passionate about as my career - the kind of career I once had, when I never cared about the paycheck. I want to see my children blossom, grow, be happy. I want to be free... to take a class, to go out dancing, to chat with a girlfriend over coffee, free to choose, free to be. Most of all free to feel.

Creating Space

So my goal for this year is to create a personal space that is uniquely my own. A personal space that has richness and brings me happiness. A close friendship, a sacred pasttime, a place to be myself that is not filled with my family's needs.

Family... it's the most wonderful concept in the world and at the same time, can be stifling. We are defined by our families. They make us who we are and they make that identity persist even when we want to change and break free. There are pieces of us caught inside our mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, children. Miniature replicas of parts of us. There's no way to escape that constant reflection of the self. And there's no way to choose them or not choose them - they are there, for better or worse.

Lately, I find myself searching for something outside myself, outside my family, that will provide me the space to grow and change. A place where I'm not haunted by old judgments and harsh reflections. Letting go of pieces of me that dont work and finding new ways to relate to the world. That's what Ive wanted for years. But am I finding the tools to actually achieve it?

Healing

My brief encounter with Dahn Yoga and Master Im drove home one single, pervasive theme. I don't trust anyone. I really think that everyone is out for something and I doubt everyone's intentions. It's not paranoia - god knows my life has been littered with reasons not to trust. But it's more than that. It's almost like I use it as a shield to prevent anyone from really getting close to me. If I don't trust them then I have a reason to hide, to run, to keep them at bay. And I stay safe, but alone and very very lonely. One thing I noticed with Master Im was that I was desperate for him to reveal the "answer" - the one true answer that would break down the wall and set me free. But I know that the only answer is releasing the fear and the negativity and letting people, emotions, pain, and yes... healing in. But am I ready? I kept thinking tonight as we sat across a little table perched on the kitchen floor sipping tea and trying to come to grips with all that had transpired and what would be no more... that I want what he is offering, but I simply am not ready to accept it now. It was too scary, too changing, too powerful. And that's why I felt good leaving. I am used to feeling alone, feeling scared, wanting to run away and dreaming about - fantasizing in full color about - the next distraction, the next escape. That feels normal. Someone telling me that I am loved and I have the power inside of me to transform my life and find true happiness. That feels insane.

And so... on to South Mountain yoga studio with the rest of the drained, overworked throngs of moms and dads.... for something that feels more natural. Feeling lost and alone.

The Only Certainty About Cancer is its Uncertainty

I heard that quote from Farrah Fawcet, who is struggling with cancer herself and it hit home. I know that for me, uncertainty has always been extremely hard to deal with. So much so that I have often preemptively run away from something that could have turned out great simply because I couldn't guarantee that it would... So with the cancer struggle, it almost seems easier for me to live as though Mark will die quickly than to live in his mental world which has him beating the odds and living a normal length of life. That latter world requires too much hope and faith in the uncertain - all of which could come crashing down. Why is uncertainty and believing in the slim window of possibility so hard for me?

I know that when Mark and I dated, his initial ambivalence added to the long-distance nature of the relationship were devastating for me to wrap my head around. The wait and see, live in the moment, not knowing where we stand torture of a dating relationship was always a white-knuckle effort for me, waiting for the certainty of marriage or not, cement, concrete certainty. From the outside looking in, I wish I had just enjoyed the moment long enough to really learn about Mark and who he was without the chains of marraige. Putting cancer aside, I wish I had really understood him, delved into the creases and been open-minded and not goal-minded. But here I am, goal long ago achieved and again living in a quagmire of uncertain torture. But this time the stakes are very different. I have learned things about Mark that make me shudder. I have learned things about Mark that undoubtedly would have caused me not to marry him at all. And now I am sitting in the uncertainty of whether he will live or die. And whether I will be here as his wife for either event. There have been so many times I wanted it all to go away. His online cheating, his secret financial mess, his angry intrusive family, and most of all his cancer. And then there are times that I'm willing to stand in the uncertainty just for today. To see in him what I saw back when we were dating. The innocence of that friendship, the simpleness of it all. And I see his weakened body and I know if I were living in that body and if I was facing the uncertainty of illness and death, I would want someone in my uncertainty too. And I know Mark would stand in it - feet firmly planted.