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!