Intention

In yoga, it's helpful to set an intention for your practice before you begin. My intention for the entirety of 2011, every class I've taken, has been just one word: release.

A new year is coming and with it, I'm bringing a new intention: be present.

This year, I want to work on being present in the moment, every moment, wherever life takes me.

Namaste.

It's the Small Things

I've had the week from hell.

Yeah, it's only Wednesday. I know. I'm actually not writing this entry about the week's misfortunes; they are largely not mine to tell anyway.

Instead, let me count my blessings.

Here's one: 

My darling puppy, Loki. He drives me insane with his puppy biting and quirks, but all is forgiven when he crawls onto my lap with a chew toy and takes his teething ailments out on a poor, defenseless little squeaky toy. He's also amazingly good on leash, and I've come to look forward to our daily walks. Especially on days such as today. It's such a shame about the rain today. I'll make up for it tomorrow.

Here's another:

My chef. Monday was the worst day. When I got home, he insisted I take a hot bath. He took care of the little monster-puppy for me, poured me some wine, and rubbed my sore back. When I fall asleep on the couch (which happens more than I care to admit lately), he carries me to bed. When I get frustrated and snap at him, he waits until I am calm to ask me what's wrong...then he helps me fix it. He spends entire days dreaming up special meals to cook for me or my family. He loves my friends. He makes me coffee every morning. He's a good man. I'm very lucky.

Side note: I bought a new makeup brush and am completely impressed at how well it works, and was laughing a bit at how long it took me to decide to spend the cash. I mentioned it to Chris, how happy such a silly thing made me...and he reminded me that it's the little things...

And just for fun...my beautiful family!

Have I mentioned how lucky I am?

 

Tonight

It's quiet in the apartment...for now. Loki is sleeping at my feet, I finished a lunch date with a good friend and a Skype conversation with another. My chef is still at work and I have no plans for the evening. Ahhhhh....quiet. And peace.

I love when Loki runs in his sleep. He also often ends up sticking his little tongue out while he's sleep-running. It's peaceful to watch and adorable to see. I never thought I would love a puppy so much! He's added so much cuteness and fun to my life here. He's made me more active and excited about little things. I'm proud when I see him learn a new trick and love to see him get excited about a toy.

I'm excited to decorate for Christmas tomorrow and see how he reacts to the tree!

'Tis the Season

I had a strategy in my former life that I employed a lot...I was thinking about it this morning. Often, when I knew I would be met with resistance with something that would hurt my feelings, I'd anticipate this resistance and battle it head-on. Instead of having a fight over what I wanted versus what he wanted, then losing and not getting any sort of real concessions, apology, or acknowledgement of my feelings...I'd claim responsibility for the whole thing upfront. It became "my idea."

For example, I lived with a modern-day Ebenezer Scrooge who didn't understand Christmas and the celebrations that go along with it. I fought it a few years; I tried a lot of different tactics to teach and explain why I enjoyed Christmas and why I wanted the festivities to be a part of my life. I even broke down and cried in a restaurant while we were out for dinner because he just didn't seem to care--or want to care--about something that was so important to me. The next year, we bought a house. I decided that I was tired of fighting over Christmas; not only did I still not get a festive holiday season, but I also was sullen and angry as a result. I approached him that year with the idea that we cut back on Christmas, due to money. No presents to each other, no new decorations, nothing special...and he was happy. He got what he wanted and it was MY IDEA so I wouldn't be picking fights with him all December long. And while we didn't overtly fight, I was resentful. I hadn't been listened to. We hadn't compromised. He won, again. Only this time, I was responsible. Worse, it set a precedence for seasons to come.

This season is fresh and new again; I can celebrate as I wish with friends and family close and a partner who is as enthusiastic as me--or maybe even more! This is good news, but I haven't gotten into the spirit yet...too many anniversaries of major life-shifting milestones that occurred just one year ago. As great as my new life is, I haven't forgotten. I don't want to; I am who and where I am today because of my past choices. But I need to kick my celebrations into high gear... I have a lot of years to make up for!!

Life in Pictures

First, some projects at work. A new student board ( I didn't paint the octopus...I commissioned it from the art teacher) and a bulletin board to promote school counseling:

 

Next, Loki is home!! Here he is, the little bundle of sweetness:

Forgiveness

Last fall, I pursued individual counseling to help me learn how to communicate with the person with whom I had wanted to live my life. I didn't believe him to be supportive when he asked me what I expected to get out of it... As a result, I went into counseling worried that we were broken beyond repair; that we didn't know how to communicate and without that, we couldn't hope to build a life and raise a family. I began to come home from counseling sessions and attempt conversations using what I'd learned. I was disappointed each time. Sometimes I was disappointed in him and his reactions, sometimes I was disappointed in myself for my lack of tenacity. Finally, one night after a breakthrough session for me, I was able to share some of my deepest concerns with him...something that had been impossible for me previously. I was proud of myself for sharing things that kept me up at night, that I hadn't previously been able to say. I had some hope that we might actually be able to communicate on the deeper, emotional level that had always alluded us. He responded by saying something along the lines of, "So what, then? I'll call my mom this weekend and let her know we're separating and call a lawyer on Monday." Just thinking about how much that immediate, knee-jerk response crushed all of my hope in one instant still hurts today, almost a year later. I also can recall the day I went back to our house, after I had temporarily moved in with my friend, Wendi, and her family. I didn't know exactly what he & I would talk about, but I was ready to have a real conversation. When I got there, his computer was open and he had divorce-filling paperwork up and ready to be filled out together. We had to stop filling out papers together at one point because I was so overwhelmed with emotion. We took a walk together and I told him I wasn't sure whether or not I was going to change my name again. A few days later, he told me I needed to change my name back; that I didn't deserve his.

I have been having trouble changing my name, which is what brings all this unpleasantness back to the surface. You see, after we had such a rough time completing the divorce filing papers together, he prepared them on his own...listing me as the petitioner. After his big statement insisting that I do not keep his name, he neglected to put in a line item specifying that my name be reinstated. The DMV doesn't like this oversight. They are the final hold-outs on my former, married last name. I hoped being back in my native state would help, but alas, my woes from the Phoenix DMV have followed me here. It's ridiculous.

This situation brings into focus something else that I'd been avoiding and hoping would go away...no matter how happy I am in my new life, no matter how everything (besides the name change) has fallen so perfectly in place...I am still bound by my past. Not because of the name (I am officially using my maiden name everywhere except the DMV), because of something else. Forgiveness. I have come to realize over the last few months that I have yet to forgive Jamie. And I have yet to truly forgive myself.

Divorce is many things: excruciatingly painful, humiliating, humbling, lonely and isolating, enraging...but all that deep emotion comes from the heartbreaking death of hope and love. I have let it go and made peace with the loss; I don't feel as though I'm in mourning anymore. I do still feel angry sometimes, and hurt. As I have been soul-searching and seeking to understanding of exactly what went wrong so I can own my mistakes and avoid them in the future...I find myself focusing on the injustices of my divorce. He deliberately turned mutual friends against me. He changed the locks on my house (on Valentine's Day!). He was the first one to use the word "divorce" but comfortably blames me for everything. I'm not saying I was blameless in the demise of my marriage. Shortly after he used the word "divorce," I stopped coming home. I am lucky to be surrounded by supportive friends and found more than one guest room and/or couch made available on short notice. I didn't take his calls for a few days, a decision made in desperation that I recognize now was heartless on my part. While I later apologized and he told me he forgave me, I don't believe I've forgiven myself. And I don't believe I've forgiven him for failing to take responsibility for his part of our failure.

No matter how many good things have come my way, or how much control I've regained over my own life...I'm still bound by my past because moving on isn't the same as forgiving. Moving on is much easier. Moving away helped, too. But I worry that I can't leave the past behind if I can't forgive him... or myself.   

Potential New Puppy?

Ebb and Flow

There's a natural rhythm to life, an ebb and flow. I'm currently enjoying a tidal wave of luck and love, and am riding high on sharing joys, large and small, with those close to me.

One of my very best friends and her husband welcomed their first child, a baby girl, into their family. I got to snuggle with her yesterday!

A friend who has been like a sister to me since we were eight years old gave birth to her second son. I hope to meet him next week when I'm in town visiting my grandma.

A favorite cousin of mine is embarking on an adventure to Antarctica, New Zealand, and then Alaska. I got to hear all about his plans since we live in the same state... for now!

I will be attending the housewarming for a good friend from college and her family in two weeks.

My first love (and still good friend) is getting married! He's wanted to get married since he was a teenager and finally found his match.

I get to see one of my absolute favorite people on the planet at least once a week. Saw him today, we went to a charity bowling event together. I'll see him tomorrow.

 

My brother is now a husband and father. I adore my new sister-in-law and nephew.

I carved pumpkins with my chef:

Life is good.

How Yoga Saved My Life

The first time I tried yoga, I was a sophomore in college at the University of Minnesota. I had already figured out that if I took an extra credit or two every semester, I'd be able to graduate a semester early (which I did). I loved yoga immediately, and looked forward to the one evening a week I got to practice yoga for college credit.

After the class ended, I focused on swing dancing and kickboxing and hapkido and hiking...always getting exercise for my body, but not practicing the discipline of the mind/body/breath connection that yoga provides.

I came back to yoga in Phoenix. A friend and I joined a gym and took yoga in a small, mirrored room directly outside a noisy weight room. I enjoyed it, but I wasn't growing in my practice. I was again just exercising my body.

Practicing yoga at Blissful Yoga Studio in Glendale, Arizona brought me back to life at a time when I wasn't eating or sleeping. I was constantly headachy because I was constantly on the verge of dehydration from all the crying. My life as I knew it was changing in ways I didn't, and couldn't, comprehend. To top it off, I had WAY too much time on my own to think. I started overbooking myself, trying to make sure I wasn't alone. It was only after I stopped running from myself that I started to heal.

It took me months to make it through a Savasana without crying. I kept to myself, came right before class and left immediately after. I had been working at the studio once a week in trade for unlimited classes, but  the members of the yoga community were slow to accept me because I was slow to accept anyone new into my life while rapidly losing others.

I'm lucky I did, eventually, let some people in. I found myself growing stronger not only within myself because of the yoga practice...but stronger knowing that I was still loveable by a group of great people. I became part of an accepting, imperfect, artistic, original, athletic, musical group of yogis that taught me more than just the discipline of the practice. They taught me to love myself again and to accept the love of others. They taught me not to be afraid of love, and not to be ashamed of or dwell on my faults and mistakes. They taught me to accept and love myself as I am, while constantly seeking to improve myself for the better...without judgement.

I'm not perfect; I can't hope to be perfect. I have, however, rediscovered joy; I can always hope and strive for happiness and inner peace to be a part of my daily life.

Namaste.

Speaking of Weddings...

Don't you just love weddings with photo booths? The top three photos include the groom, my cousin Mikey, on the left.

One of the major perks of living in Wisconsin again is the ability to attend more family events. I feel a lot closer to my family already...and that's a good thing!

I also have to comment on the food. Wedding food can be challenging as it's almost impossible to determine exactly when food will be served due to photos, etc, and an awful lot of people need to be served all at once. Having said that, the food at this wedding was delicious! It was a buffet, barbeque style. It was loaded with fresh fruits and veggies, salad, corn on the cob, and either roasted chicken or pulled pork sandwiches. Delicious!

I'm also noticing a trend in wedding at the moment, apart moving away from diamond rings, is moving away from wedding cakes. This particular wedding chose to have fresh Amish-made pies and caramel apples from a Wisconsin apple orchard. I've also been to a wedding that chose to have an ice cream sundae bar, and I've seen candy buffets as well. My wedding had cupcakes. I think the reason ranges from brides and grooms wanting to display more originality in their big day to cost considerations. Wedding cakes are ridiculously expensive, so choosing another sweet treat can be an easy way to keep wedding costs down. I don't know the reason for my cousin's choice, but their dessert choice fit perfectly with their fall theme.

Congrats to Mike & Kristin!

"My Marriage is a Fake Fendi!"

I'm watching an old episode of "Sex and the City" in which the ladies venture to LA shortly after Charlotte has returned from her honeymoon. She had only told one of her three best friends that she and her husband weren't able to talk about something personal, serious, and emotional and it was killing her that her life was not as perfect as she would like everyone to think. I was struck by how much this old storyline resonated with me and my past life. The issue in question was not the same in our failed marriages, but the fact that I would just pretend that everything was great, show pictures, talk about upcoming trips, etc, etc, etc...all the while dying a little inside knowing that I didn't connect on a higher emotional level with my husband...well, that was the same. But I didn't want to tell, and assumed people didn't want to hear it. And when it all came crashing down, I was more afraid than ever to start talking, because, well, very few people had any idea the depth of the issue. And it was my fault that no one knew.

And so some people in my life made assumptions and judgements. Some people vanished from my life without a word.  I know I made mistakes, but who hasn't? And how do people think they can know anything about what happens in a marriage if they aren't living it? The one thing I've held on to during everything is that there are people who are there with me through everything, no matter what.

As hard as it was at the time, I'm grateful to have weeded some fake Fendis out of my life and to held on to those that support and love me. I guess it wasn't just the marriage that was faulty, but some other relationships as well. What I'm left with is the best of the best; those that are with you through everything. And while life continues to not work out exactly as I've planned, I couldn't be happier knowing that I've got so many great people in my life. With the support system I have now, I'm confident I could get through anything.

Never Too Old

The day I'm shocked upon noticing the increase of wrinkles around my eyes, I also receive a care package from my parents. I guess you're never too old to be doted upon by those who care about you.

So, I've been sick. My mom, a recently retired teacher, knows all to well the germs that can be transferred in an elementary school. In the package: full-sized hand sanitizer, three mini hand sanitizers, anti-bacterial soap, a lot of Emergen-C, and a coupon for a free "teacher box" from Penzey's Spices!!

I immediately consumed an Emergen-C and then headed to Penzey's for a box including a full sized bottle of Forward (basically salt-free season salt), cinnamon, a teacher sticker & a teacher pin. When I checked out, I was thanked for my service to children! I'm certainly not in Arizona anymore!

In other news, I was lucky enough to be graced with the presence of my dear from from Korea, Robin, and her boyfriend as they traversed across the country from their old home in New York to their new home in Seattle. I was so excited to discover that not only were they going to be passing through Madison, they would have time for a leisurely lunch. We went to the quintessential Wisconsin restaurant on the square in downtown Madison, The Old Fashioned, where we proceeded to gorge ourselves on cheese and then roll ourselves out of the way of the Ironman participants on the final leg of their race.

Also, Mama P-B had her first child and I have yet to meet the little miracle. I'm usually the first to run to the hospital to meet a newborn and baby is now 3 days old and home!! Yeah, have I mentioned I've been sick? It's HORRIBLE. I could be snuggling with the cutest little poop machine on the planet right now, but I'm home with the television, vitamin C, water...and Halloween Oreos.

Fantasy

Fantasy Football is SO ODD.

A first-time fantasy football team owner, I was extremely Packer-heavy on my draft. Why? Well...I don't consider myself a football fan as much as I consider myself a Packer fan. I never have been able to motivate myself to learn about players that aren't currently or weren't recently a Green Bay Packer.

I find myself watching the very first NFL game of the season, with my beloved Packers winning 14-0. It's early in the game and anything could happen. In play on my fantasy team: Greg Jennings, Jermichael Finley, and the Packer defensive line. All solid starters with great point potential. However, my opponent has the advantage for this weekend with a healthier team. She has two players active during this game...one of which is Aaron Rogers. So, I find myself in a baffling position for the first time: no matter what, I would love my team to handily win this game. However...if they could do it with minimal fantasy points awarded to Rogers...that would be ideal.

Watching a football game that actually has implications on my competitive nature is also strange. Before now, I always wanted the Pack to win, but whether or not they pulled it off had little impact on me personally. Now, every NFL game will have meaning to me, and my ability to win or lose something. This could be a stressful football season!

"This is Torture!"

My first day of classroom guidance lessons, and wow...it was fun! But tough.

Things I learned today:

1. Kindergarteners need more than a few days to get used to being in school before they are ready for a disruption in their routine like a guidance lesson. Sometimes, they are silly and cute. Sometimes, it's like herding cats.

2. While 1st graders have a year of experience in the classroom, they aren't much better than kindergarteners at the end of the day...at least, not today, coming off a three day weekend and sitting through a school-wide assembly just prior to guidance. The title of this blog was inspired by the first grader who put his head down mid-lesson and said to his desk (loud enough for me to hear) "I want to go home. This is torture." I had a hard time keeping from laughing.


3. The best way to undo a long, challenging day is to come home to someone else making you a delicious meal, eating that meal, taking a walk, and seeing six whitetail deer grazing in your backyard.


Another perfect day as far as I'm concerned.

Scaring Myself

I've had some pretty intense dreams since I've been living in Madison. My favorite was one in which I hunted and killed my inner demons, who were manifesting themselves in other seemingly innocuous entities. I think it's my subconscious celebrating my new-found empowerment and happiness in my surroundings. Chef says the dreams are a result of watching too much of the TV show Ghost Adventures, which is my current favorite brain-dead relaxation show. You know, the kind of thing you watch to keep your brain from running around in circles and fixating on all the things needing to be done when you have no energy to do them.

What do you think?

Fresh Start

Since moving to Madison:

I have slept every night with the windows open

I have woken up to the sweet sound of thunderstorms...twice!

I attended a housewarming party and baby shower at the home of one of my best friends

I did my very first fantasy football draft

I went to the Madison farmer's market on the Capital square

I went to the Sun Prairie corn festival

 I participated (poorly) in live trivia on B-Rad's team
I have had the best beer cheese soup I've ever tasted (at the Old Fashioned)
I have had beer at a local brewery (Great Dane)
I've enjoyed chocolatey goodness drinks at Caribou Coffee

I cut 5 inches off my hair

I bought a new car

I started a new job

I have seen my parents every couple days. No joke. 

Madness

Exactly two weeks ago, I picked my parents up from the Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport. I had already emptied my storage unit into a 17-foot U-Haul and packed all my remaining possessions into a couple dozen boxes. My parents hit the ground running; we drove directly to the small apartment I shared with Teenypoo & Dash Cunning and emptied it of my belongings as well. After a slightly tearful goodbye, we drove to my friend-turned-boyfriend-about-to-be-roommate's apartment and loaded up his boxes and the majority of his furniture. (A story for another day would be the "I'm moving to Madison. You can come with me or stay here, but I'm going either way, and I leave in a week" discussion...) The four of us took turns driving either a U-Haul towing a Jeep or my Bonneville. The Chef spent 12 hours straight in the cab of a U-Haul with my father, and they emerged laughing. We stopped in New Mexico and had a lovely dinner with my aunt & her husband. We stopped in Kansas City so I could meet my future sister-in-law and nephew and spend time with my brother, and Chef could see his family. We got to Madison and hauled all our stuff up a small hill and a flight of stairs to our new two-bed, two-bath apartment. My parents drove home. I crashed in my own bed in my own bedroom for the first time in five nights, with my window OPEN.

Madison, Wisconsin. After four years in the desert, it's a little slice of paradise. A city built around two lakes (Monona and Mendota) with an active social scene and a Big 10 university. Also the home of some of my close friends and extended family. So how did this all come about, you may wonder?

I spent the majority of the summer months applying for School Counseling licenses and jobs in two states: Arizona and Wisconsin. I'd had multiple phone and in-person interviews, and while I received great feedback from interviewers, I didn't have a contract. After I flew to Wisconsin to interview and came back to Phoenix as the second choice (again), I realized that I was indeed going to need to formulate and execute a backup plan. I fell into sort of a depression as I looked at after school programs and substitute teaching and classroom aide positions and tutoring...nothing seemed right.

On a particularly bad day, I got a call from a district just outside of Madison. I had applied for a one-year, long term substitute position and they were interested in me. I researched the district online and loved everything I read. I truly enjoyed the phone interview; I got the best feeling from the principal about the school and the district. I began hearing from my references that same day that they had been called...and then I got the phone call I'd been waiting for all summer; I got the job! My parents booked a flight for exactly one week after I got the official offer letter and my adventure began.

A Message from a Fellow Yogi

"A little bird told me that you have some definite issues in your personal life that make it hard to feel secure...must make the small person that lives inside of all of us scared as hell. If it helps at all I am a richer person for having met you and knowing you. I am sure that to tell you that this too shall pass only serves to make you angry but it is true. Celebrating 52 yrs of age and having stories that would make your hair stand up straight and surprise you that I am here to tell the stories it is a truth that each day dawns new and full of opportunity. I wish I had the yoga discipline and yogis around me when I was your age. Take this time and take a really hard look at your life and ask this question, "All of this would be easier to handle if only....." The answer may be one that you don't want to acknowledge but the sooner you face and address the issues the sooner you can start to shine again. You are a beautiful light and have much to offer the world. If there is anything I can do to help please let me know."

Onward

When I worked at One Step Beyond, there was one particular employee whom I admired. If given the occasion, she and I could talk for hours about any number of topics, she could make me laugh or teach me something new, and she always signed her emails "Onward" instead of "Sincerely" or something of the like.

It's not a stretch to say that this year has knocked me down, almost broken me, and left me with little to show for myself other than a Masters degree which is proving useless for actual employment opportunities. But I pride myself on my stubborn independence, and I've managed to keep myself afloat financially and emotionally even if I'm frequently hovering precariously, dangerously, recklessly just below the surface most of the time.

If you know me personally, which I assume any current readers of this blog must be given the very personal nature of the most recent posts, you know that I'm sentimental. I don't have a poker face and I cry extremely easily. In the words of my dear friend, Megahn, I "run a little intense." It's a blessing and a curse. When I have an idea, I run with it.  I attach emotion to people, places, things, and songs. When I'm happy, I'm contagiously ecstatic. When I'm sad, even acquaintances pick up on it almost immediately. When I'm lost in thought, my eyes give me away. When I'm hurting, it's raw.

There are countless places in Appleton, Wisconsin that remind me of my first love. Happily, we are still friendly and so while we are no longer in love, being in or near these places makes me smile. Much like Appleton is filled with memories, Alaska is full of places that remind me of my ex husband for both positive and negative reasons; we had one truly amazing, life-changing summer followed by an exceedingly rocky one. Either way, we met there. It's ours, and whenever I return I know I will be flooded with memories of love, adventure, and heartbreak. I wanted to return this summer, but chose to focus on what has become a challenging job search. He was just there. He was just there, with her.  My replacement, a teacher in his district. I've known for a short while that he was seeing someone, and now I have the misfortune of putting a name and a face to this mystery woman. Elena. While I don't know how long it's been going on or how serious it is, he took her to Alaska. Denali. The thought of them cuddled up in our tent and using gear we chose and bought together with wedding giftcards...of him taking her to places we discovered together...of him introducing her to those who used to be our mutual friends, camping & hiking & drinking with those very people who thought it appropriate to choose sides when both of us needed their love & support...in Alaska. While I'm here, barely holding on.

I am happy that Jamie is moving on. I am. Ok, I'm lying. I'm a terrible liar. But I honestly can say that I want him to be happy, and I understand that moving on is part of that. Hell, I've moved on and I'm happier for it. But I didn't take the chef to our old neighorhood in Lakewood, Ohio or to where Jamie and I lived in north Lake Tahoe. Certainly it would be a while before I could take him to the memory graveyard that is Denali. But then again, Jamie was never as sentimental as me. And certainly has a way of acting without regard to how his actions cause anyone else, especially me, to feel. He just gets to impress his new girlfriend and help our former mutual friends forget that he ever asked me out (at the curve in the hill between employee housing and the Chalet's main lobby building).

So now that such a small event as inadvertently and unfortunately seeing a picture has completely flattened me, I struggle to move Onward. Partially because I don't know where I'm going, nor do I really have a full understanding of how I got here. But I'm alive, and the sun keeps rising. There's no way to go back, and I don't want to. So there's no where else to go.

Onward,

Eve

Counting My Blessings

Tomorrow is the last day that I will be in my twenties; Tuesday is my 30th birthday. In this, my 29th year, I've experienced an abundance of massive change, heartbreak, discouragement, abandonment, rejection, death, and general turmoil. I've also reached deep within myself and truly learned what strength and resilience resides inside of me and was able to find a few small sprinklings of love, hope, and accomplishment. Not knowing what lies ahead in my 30th year and beyond, I decided today to shift my focus from where I *thought* I'd be by 30 and take a moment to focus on the present, on what makes me smile on this particular morning as I sit behind the desk of an air-conditioned yoga studio and gaze at the bright sunshiney day outside the window. I came up with a concise list of six blessings for which I am entirely grateful in this moment.

One: Family. Adversity either tears people apart or brings them together; I'm pleased to say that despite being separated by thousands of miles, I feel closer to my immediate family now than I have in years.

Two: My current home. Thanks entirely to Teenypoo, I have an affordable place to live with fun roommates who share a number of similar interests and are good people in general.

Three: Romance. My boyfriend, the chef, provides me with amazing food, but also happens to be caring, attentive, thoughtful, supportive, intelligent, and adorable. And old, so I always get to feel young. ;)

Four: Friendship. I can't say enough about the people who have stood by me through everything. In addition to my family, the roommies, & the chef,  I'd like to give special props to Mama P-B & Freddy, J.Sweet, JoJo & family, B-Rad, Cutie-pie A.M., no Moore, ScriptPhD, Scuba & his wifey, Noah's mom, the Princess Bride, and a certain Ganesha fan & her hubby (pseudonyms used more for my own amusement than identity protection).

Five: Balance and strength. I've worked to return balance and strength to my body & mind with unlimited yoga at Blissful Yoga Studio. Even though my shoulders are sore today from yesterday's extended Ashtanga class and I recently fainted at a Kirtan, I feel grateful and blessed for not only the physical and mental effects of my practice, but the beautiful instructors and practitioners I've been honored to meet.

Six: Music. Or more specifically, reconnecting with my love of music. I remember having a conversation with the ex immediately after the loss of my grandfather about how I felt disconnected to music, and he didn't understand what I was talking about or what I meant...and he was dismissive, perhaps because I didn't have the language to describe what I felt. I was discouraged by the conversation and also became dismissive of my disconnection. This feeling wasn't easily buried, however. Although I missed out on the big music festivals this year, I've taken more opportunities to experience live music in different settings and generally connecting myself to music...which is hard to explain, but I will try. I've challenged myself to not only explore new types of music and new/different/forgotten artists but also to connect myself with the music as more than a passive listener. I've done this by practicing yoga to live music both at the studio and at the chef's house (he's also a talented musician), and learning mantras to chant/sing (although I fear I have much, much more to learn). I've gone so far as to create new melody lines for chants/mantras that resonate with me, and sing them to myself in my car or empty apartment when the mood strikes. I connect emotion with song, listen to/sing/post on Facebook songs that contain or evoke the emotion I'm experiencing. I listen more deeply. I sing more.

There's a Room Full of People in My Head

I woke up from a dream this morning that has left me feeling unsettled all morning...

It began as I was hastily preparing, poorly, for a last-minute backpacking trip I'd been roped into taking with a (former) regular backpacking buddy of mine, his wife, and a few other characters. I remember having very little time to pack, and him saying that I didn't need to worry about bringing food or a tent, because they were taking care of all that. I hastily shoved clothes and a few snacks into my pack and ran out to meet them.

I remember being at the meeting point and seeing all the gear everyone else had brought and feeling SO inadequate. I brought my concerns to the alpha-male-type friend who had convinced me to go, and he pretty much laughed them off. "But I forgot my THERMAREST! I'll never be able to sleep!" I said to him, almost begging to be let out of my committment and to take me home. He just shrugged it off and said he'd rig something up for me, that he would make sure I was comfortable and would take care of everything. I remember feeling ashamed that I hadn't taken care of my own needs, and was not in a position to do so. I hated having to just trust that he would take care of everything...but somehow I trusted him to do so and no longer worried.

At this point in the dream, I ran into someone else whom I have not seen since last July. He was also preparing for a backpacking trip, but was not going with my group. We got to talking about lives and getting into some serious conversation, and I was surprised that he was so sympathetic to my situation. At this point, I looked up and I realized my group had left without me! All my food, my tent, my gear was with them! I had trusted them to take care of me and I was completely unprepared to do this trip alone. I tried to run after them, and the friend with whom I had been talking was frantic as well. I found myself wondering if he was frantic to help me because he didn't want to be saddled with having to take care of me or if he really wanted to help. I ran into another friend at this point that I actually keep in touch with all the time in real life and adore, but he was already too far behind his group to stop and help me; he had catching up of his own to do. I ran out the back door of the lodge where we had all been doing our last minute preparations and was shouting out to random strangers hoping that one of them would someone magically be someone I knew.

I was about to give up and sleep in the lodge until they returned from the trip or something when I saw them, my entire group, packed into a running conversion van. Waiting, but also seemingly surprised that I wasn't already in the van.

I realized suddenly that all the snacks I'd brought were stale, that I'd had them in my pack since Korea, and threw them all away before getting into the van.

Sidenotes: this haphazard, thrown together trip is NOT the way I would ever attempt backpacking, and would never agree to such a last-minute adventure.

The majority of the people in my dream are people with whom I've been friends for years, but no longer wish to keep in touch, in paticular the main alpha-male character whom I relied upon and trusted implicitly in this dream.

Also, there's no way I would still have stale snacks from Korea....gross! I've used my pack many times since returning, often with the group I dreamt about.





50 States

I've lived in Wisconsin, Minnesota, Alaska, Nevada, Ohio, and Arizona. (6 States)

I've traveled to (and spent at least one night): Alabama, California, Florida, Illinois, North Carolina, Oregon, North Dakota, Colorado, Indiana, Michigan, Montana, Pennsylvania, Tennessee, West Virginia, Wyoming, Iowa, Nebraska, New Mexico, Texas, Washington, Kansas, New York, Utah (23 States)

I've physically been in: Idaho, Kentucky, South Dakota, Oklahoma, Georgia, Missouri, New Jersey (7 states)

That leaves: Hawaii, Arkansas, Louisiana, Mississippi, South Carolina, Maine, Vermont, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Delaware, Maryland, Connecticut, and Virginia (14 states)

(I'm double-checking those facts with family, since I can't completely recall the routes of childhood road trips)

While I no longer have any delusions of hitting all 50 states by the time I'm 30, mostly because I have mere days to do so, I'd like to make sure I've at least spent one night in each state by the time I'm 50. I think that's fair.

Long term goals are fun, no?

Is Forever Enough?

I was reading in my room and I heard these words from a song coming from my roommate's computer...

"How long do you want to be loved? Is forever enough, is forever enough?"

I had to get up and see what the song was. "Lullaby" by the Dixie Chicks (posted below).

It made me think of the love that a parent has for their child, that eternal sort of unconditional adoration and pride. It made me happy that I've had such a strong, supportive family unit my whole life. It made me want to have children and show them this kind of love.

It made me think of my three friends in Wisconsin who are all currently pregnant, one with her first child and two with their second children. I immediately felt that I wanted to be closer and more connected to the people in my life that I've shared so many moments with so that I can be sharing these big moments with them. Why am I so far away from so many of these people?

That's a lot of emotion to have been induced from one song...

I was surprised I've never heard it before; not that I listen to the Dixie Chicks or anything, but I love the lyrics.

"Lullaby"

They didn't have you where I come from
Never knew the best was yet to come
Life began when I saw your face
And I hear your laugh like a serenade

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up

I slip in bed when you're asleep
To hold you close and feel your breath on me
Tomorrow there'll be so much to do
So tonight I'll drift in a dream with you

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up

As you wander through this troubled world
In search of all things beautiful
You can close your eyes when you're miles away
And hear my voice like a serenade

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up

Rejection.

Last month, I graduated from my Masters program. It was three grueling years of reading, writing, attending class, and working for free. It felt amazing to walk across the stage wearing a cap, gown, hood, and honors ropes to accept my empty diploma case, knowing what I'd accomplished through the best and worst of times in my personal life. To me, this achievement was a much-needed celebration of the payoffs of hard work and perseverance. Earlier this month, my degree was confirmed and I was able to mail my application for my Wisconsin license. I didn't realize I had the wrong kind of fingerprint clearance card for Arizona, so there's a minor setback with my license here; I must wait for them to scour my criminal background to find that I have none...again...and then send me a different plastic card for me to prove as much to future employers. AND I got to pay for that privilege, making my Arizona license twice as expensive as I'd planned. I recognize, however, that this is not the end of the world and I patiently wait.

During the course of my internship, it seemed as though I would be able to take over my counseling supervisor's position when she moved across the country at the end of the school year. The teachers, students, and administrators at the school all assumed that it would happen. Budget cuts and changes in the district prevented this from happening; the district is not only cutting her position, but cutting the position of another counselor in the district who had not planned to leave her post. I've applied for no less than two dozen jobs in the past month in three states. I've received rejection emails from districts in Wisconsin for which I had not even interviewed. I've been chosen for two phone interviews (Wisconsin) and two in-person interviews (Arizona). I was rejected from two of these positions a few weeks ago. Yesterday, I received another rejection phone call as well as a letter from a district in Wisconsin yesterday, simply stating that I passed the preliminary interview and will be considered for two open positions in their district with no further information. Basically, it sounds as though my application for this district has been moved from one pile to another. At least it hasn't been shredded.

Rejection is challenging to accept, but I try to look at each one as a learning experience. I've emailed those who interviewed me or asked the person calling to reject me if there is anything I could do to improve on my next interview. I've received great feedback and have taken it to heart...but yesterday's rejection was different. I was called personally by one of the people present in the interview, and she had no feedback to offer. She basically stated that she thought I would be perfect for the position and wished she had two open positions so she could hire me. She said that in any other hiring year I would have been chosen, but this particular year someone else came in, essentially, with a better resume. While it's flattering, in a way, there is nothing I can do with this information. I can't do anything about my lack of experience unless someone hires me.

Bonnaroo

Jamie and I bought tickets to Bonnaroo's 10th anniversary festival last fall, right around the time when everything between us was falling apart. We also bought a brand new flat screen TV...perhaps we thought having things and spending money was going to either save us or distract us from our problems. Regardless, as I am typing a blog entry right now, it's probably easy to guess who got the tickets in the divorce (the same one who got the TV as well...)

It's admittedly difficult knowing that he's there, right now, without me. Bonnaroo was special to us and one of the few locations where we've traveled together that is loaded with only positive memories. I'm streaming the music, as I did during Coachella, but there's no comparison to actually being there and experiencing music in that venue. Dirty, sweaty, hot, surrounded by a sea of other dirty, sweaty, and hot people...but that's the beauty of Bonnaroo. It's not about you or the way you look (or smell for that matter), it's about the music and the community. Unless you want to wait in line somewhere instead of enjoying the festival, your cell phone will die and you will not shower. You're not on the computer or connected to the outside world, you're immersed in the present and in the music and in the company you keep.

March was difficult for me as well; every day I was supposed to have been waking up in Hawaii, on a second honeymoon with my husband, I had a difficult time getting out of bed, alone, in Phoenix. However, this weekend is the last weekend I will allow myself to mourn the loss of our mutual plans because this weekend was the last of the plans we'd made together.

I went to the old house today, safe in the knowledge that he's in Tennessee. It didn't feel like my home. I found a few things I'd left and wandered the mostly-empty rooms, wondering what had happened to my life as I have so many times in the past six months. If I'm honest with myself, I started wondering what I had gotten myself into less than a week after my wedding day, but that's another story entirely.

So here's to you, Jamie. I truly hope you enjoy every moment of Bonnaroo, and that you are able to think back on our 'Roos together and smile.

Six Months

Saturday marks six months since The Split. Most days, I feel pretty okay with myself, where I'm at, who I am, where I'm going with life...

Today is one of those days. In spite of the fact that Jamie will be attending Bonnaroo's 10-year-anniversary festival this weekend and I will NOT be, even with recent financial and job hunting setbacks...I feel pretty good. It's not much, but I do have income. It's not a great place, but I do have an apartment and fabulous roommates. I've not received a job offer yet, but I'm occasionally being selected for interviews. I'm no longer married, I will soon no longer be a homeowner...but I didn't have the marriage I wanted and I never wanted to buy the house. I feel like I have a good perspective.

Also, I'm seeing someone. Yes, I know it's probably too soon. Yes, I know I should get to the point where I'm all the way OK before I expose all my neuroses to someone else...but I know that being with him has made a tremendous positive impact in my life and current state of mind. Before we had "the conversation" about whether or not we should take our friendship to the next level, he had been my friend, my rock, my confidant, the person I could go to when I had no one else. I literally cried on his shoulder several times. In him, I have the companionship I was missing. I have someone who not only is interested in my daily accomplishments and failures, but is encouraging and supportive. I feel safe. I feel wanted and appreciated. I feel free to pursue my own activities and interests without ridicule, and often with his participation. He came to yoga with me! He was (and wanted to be) my date for my counseling supervisor's wedding! So things are looking up for me; no matter where life is taking me, I'm getting my confidence back.

Taking out the Trash

How is it that one day I can feel absolutely fine and confident, and the next week I am throwing away a trash can full of tear-soaked tissues?

And then I find myself reading the "Divorce" section of the Huffington Post.

Ryan Reynolds on divorce (He & Scarlett Johansson split in December 2010 also):

"Relationships ending move you from who you were to who you are at a much more accelerated rate than almost anything else on earth,"

"Anyone who gets divorced goes through a lot of pain, but you come out of it. I'm not out of it yet. At all."

"Any kind of crisis can be good. It wakes you up. I gotta say, I'm a different person than I was six months ago."

And just for fun...

Yesterday

Yesterday was a bad day that started with promise. I didn't have to work so I slept in and had a leisurely morning cuddling with my roommate's dogs, reading the news online and stalking people on facebook, sipping coffee. I went to a beautiful Yoga Wall class with a friend, I bought a new summer dress on sale, and then I did what I've been dreading for months...I went back to a house I still own with a man I thought I'd love forever to pick up my wedding dress and other items that aren't easy to see or handle, a visit I'd been putting off.

For reasons I do not comprehend, he doesn't like me to go to the house when he's not there. While I would much prefer to go to the house when it's empty, I choose to respect his wishes. It was his birthday yesterday, but it was also seemingly the only day this week that worked for him, so I reluctantly agreed to meet him. This time the house was nearly empty, as he's in the process of moving as well. Where he's going...I don't know. When I ask, he evades direct answers. He had most of my stuff packed in a box for me, waiting by the door. He actually helped me load my car this time and while it was nice that he wasn't abrasive or cruel, it was surprising to me that he didn't seem to have any emotional response at all. I'll admit, I was torn up. I held it together while I loaded my wedding album, dress, and other sentimental items into my car, but I was sobbing before I drove out of the neighborhood. I went home to an empty apartment (graduation day! my teacher roommate was otherwise occupied) and tried to figure out what would become of the contents of my car.

I sobbed for hours. I tried to remember all the ways he'd hurt me over the years, all the stupid fights, all the reasons we weren't good together...it made me cry harder. When I finally ran out of tears, my eyes were not just bloodshot; the whites were absolutely red and my irises looked unnaturally green.

I opened a beer, but what I had in the fridge was Alaskan Amber which comes loaded with memories, both good and bad. I thought about how and why I'd left him--twice--that second summer in Alaska. I thought about how I left for Korea soon after we reconciled and didn't know if we'd still be together when I came back, but was somehow hopeful that a year apart would provide clarity for both of us and direction for our future, together or apart. I rememer his first visit and how great it was to see him after months apart. He brought me earrings, a gift from his mother, in a small jewelry box that I thought might be something else. I remember I was disappointed when it wasn't. I was hurt when months later he called to tell me he didn't want to come back to Korea for second visit as planned. He wanted to go somewhere he'd never been instead, somewhere that would cost less money and take up less air travel time. In the end he came back to Korea, but knowing that I wasn't a priority after all we'd been through stung.

At this point, the tears returned and I tried to stop thinking about him, about the rollercoaster relationship that lead me to both great adventures and heart wrenching pain, sometimes simultaneously. Jamie helped shape who I am as a person, and being with him taught me a lot about myself. I wanted to believe that the gentle, intelligent, caring man I saw beneath his sarcastic, selfish exterior was the predominant one. I wanted the happily-ever-after we're taught as little girls to seek. I thought when he proposed that he wanted a marriage and kids and compromise and everything that husband-and-wife means. I was wrong, but he was also wrong to mislead me.

Weight

Even though I've been steadily gaining weight the past two months or so and feeling quite bloated and large...

I realize now that I am still smaller than I was in the last few months of my marriage when I was constantly stress eating.

How small did I get during the divorce? I know there were several people in my life who voiced concern about whether or not I was eating, but I didn't realize until this moment that I truly must have been skeletal.

It's insane what stress does to the body.

An April Fool

It's April 1st, and coincidentally my first night in my new living space. I've crashed with a few friends and had plenty of safe places to stay over the past few months, but this is different. My stuff is here. I have my own bed, my own sheets, most of my own furniture...well, what I got from the split. I moved my furniture in a few weekends ago and have actually spent a few nights here while friends were in town, but as of tonight I actually live here.

I've come a long way in four months. I have a place to live and a support system in place. I have finished every last requirement for my Masters degree and have begun seriously researching employment opportunities for the summer and for the fall both here and in other states. I am alone in the apartment this evening (apart from my roommate's dogs), and fairly comfortably so. I am, miraculously, financially stable. I cry a lot less. Jamie and I have gotten to a place where we can speak without ridiculing each other or being intentionally cruel. He actually texted me this morning with a picture of a cactus blooming in what was our front yard. My soap-opera-life is settling into a state of somewhat-normalcy.

The thing is, I'm still feeling unsettled. I went from having a life plan in place to throwing everything on its head. I don't know where I'll be living this fall or where I'll be working. I don't even have a concrete plan for the summer (I know it's only April but since it was 100 degrees today, I feel Mother Nature pressuring me to get it together). I am grateful as of this moment to have both a job and a place to live, but neither are really turning out to be what I would have planned or chosen for myself. My parents want me to move home. My scattered friends all try to coerce me to move to wherever they live, and I'm always tempted. My wanderlust is rearing its head...but if I am really honest with myself, I don't want to wander, I just want to leave Phoenix. I want to be building a life for myself without comparing it to where I would have been had I stayed. I know I've changed and I've really clarified what I want out of life and love; I don't want to casually date. I know I can't predict the future or know with any certainty where my life is headed, but I know what I want. I want to be planning my future with someone special without feeling doomed to repeat past mistakes. I know what I need this time around; what I can live with and what I can't... Right now, I want to feel like I am healed, but I know I'm not 100%. It might take some time before I'm 100% back to myself but at least I know I'm headed in that direction.

Wish me luck, and love, on my journey as I navigate what has become a tumultuous escapade.

3 Months

It's been about a quarter of a year since my life was turned upside down, and while I'm still definitely dealing with the situation and aftermath, I am in a different place. I feel like I'm coming back to myself, rediscovering who I am. I am pretty close to sleeping through the night (I woke up at 5:00 today instead of the customary 2:00), my appetite has returned with a vengeance, and I am actually getting really tired of overbooking myself. I am looking forward to relaxation time instead of dreading that it will be filled with tears. After a few severely unpleasant experiences, I am at peace with my life's new direction (or non-direction) and I'm looking forward to whatever twists and turns are in store for me.

Stages of Grief

I've found that there is a discrepancy among sources as to whether there are five or seven stages of grief, but either way...GRIEF is a terribly painful, all-consuming emotion. I've found my increasing emotional instability to be more than a little alarming in the past week, and since I do not have a session scheduled with my counselor anytime soon, I did what just about every 20-something (I can only call myself that for a few more months, so I might do so in every blog post) does and took to the internet to try to help myself and then, since writing is supposed to be therapeutic, I am choosing to write about it. Just because I've chosen to write about it doesn't mean you have to read it. Feel free to ignore this post and wait for brighter days and funny stories. I'm sure those are coming back at some point. Right?

Anyways, back to the painful present.

All sources agree that the #1 stage of grief is Denial. I'm sure I must have felt this at some point, but it escapes me. Perhaps I was in denial of just how much this was going to hurt. Or maybe I was in denial when I thought I could live as I was living forever.

Pain and Guilt.  I don't think I've passed this one yet. Is it possible to concurrently be in several stages at once? Because I think my entire existence is an amalgamation of this and a few more of the stages below. I can swing from heart-wrenching, painful sobbing to intense feelings of guilt to extreme anger in the course of a day. Sometimes in the course of a long drive. Sometimes in the course of a phone call. Certainly within a counseling session. Sometimes I'm numb.

Next is Anger. I sincerely didn't think I'd live this one. I've identified two sources: 1. Some not very nice and also untrue storytelling is being done about me. 2. People I've considered to be my friends for years are feeling the need to choose sides, and some unexpected people are choosing to completely eliminate me from their lives. These actions are both immensely hurtful, and as we all know, hurting people are the quickest to embrace anger. I'm there.

Bargaining is next. Unless we're talking about the ominous division of property, there hasn't been much of this at all. I actually would have expected more bargaining, more conversation, more fighting, but there isn't really any of this, from either party. I'm not sure what that says about this particular situation.

Depression is a dear friend of mine this week. I've been reflecting on the sheer loneliness of this time, and mourning the loss of my former plans, hopes, and dreams. I know that to pull myself out of this pit of despair, I need to throw myself into making new plans, but I haven't the energy. It's overwhelming to realize the magnitude of this loss and the far-reaching effects of dreams turned to dust. Whether or not it is all for the best in the long run, my life has and will continue to change in drastic ways. I need to reevaluate where I'm at and where I'm going. In a way, I'm starting over completely.

Apparently, Acceptance and Hope are coming. I'd like to meet them, try them on, and see what they feel like. I know that things will get better, that I will cry and hurt less and spend less time wallowing in the pain. I hope to complete a yoga class without crying or having the urge to cry during Savasana.

Others Say It Better

"When your dreams turn to dust, vacuum." ~Author Unknown

“The fear of making permanent commitments can change the mutual love of husband and wife into two loves of self-two loves existing side by side, until they end in separation.” ~Pope John Paul II 

“A divorce is like an amputation: you survive it, but there's less of you” ~Margaret Atwood