finding humor

I'm very sentimental. I hold onto things that have history and stories. Which is precisely why it was so important for me to have a garage sale. Because most of my marriage was lived out in our current home, my ex-husband's remains lingered in the attic and were shoved into boxes in the garage. I know exactly how morbid that sounds, but it's truly what it felt like when he moved out leaving almost everything behind.

 Last spring, I had gathered an assortment of his favorite books and cds together to offer him for his new house. It was a sobering task, but I did it with as much dignity as possible because these items represented the man I remembered marrying. His response?
"Just put them on the curb."
HUH?!
Was he erasing his past? Did our life together deserve the same treatment as the weekly garbage?

It was with great pleasure one year later that I watched these and other belongings walk away for a buck here or a quarter there. It was liberating... even fun!

His college tent (that we camped in often) went to the local cheese man for the use of the poles... he told me he was a cub scout leader. I'll enjoy buying my gruyere even more now.

The cracked mandolin engraved with the word "angel" (not kidding!) that he had serenaded me on during our first year together? Adopted by a local musician for his little girl to play with. A truer angel, perhaps.

And the "Teach Yourself Portuguese" book that he had studied in a frenzy the fall before he left? Well, I kept it. After all... I might have a thing or two to say  to his Brazilian mistress girlfriend in her native tongue one of these days. Ha!

These stories have an edge... a sharpness that is different from my softer side, for sure. But they make me chuckle. Finding humor in the letting go has opened new doors to healing. And I've been laughing a lot these days!

illusions

How isolating is it to feel ALONE when you're actually "with" someone. THE LONELIEST! So these days, I feel quite content even when I'm literally in an empty house. The jobs that have been left for me to do by myself to maintain this home are huge, but there is no illusion anymore that there is someone to help me. I was always on my own, but had accepted this because marriage is filled with compromises and sacrifices. This seems to be especially true when you marry young and don't fully know how (or if) your spouse will grow over time, but are committed to making it work.

If you have recently found yourself on a solo path, consider the blessing of not living with the tension of a life of illusion verses reality.

I rediscovered this gift when my children and I began fixing up and painting a fence that their father never completed many years ago. He abandoned the fence long before he abandoned us, but it remained standing through the seasons as a clue of all that was truly not well for him.

What if I had understood the symbolic indicators that he had left us long before he actually walked out the door? Could I have stopped him? Would I have wanted to had I known how less lonely we would all feel with him HONESTLY gone?

We are happily painting our fence and making it fresh and new. We are also quite content as three... instead of three pretending to be four.

wonder

The last few weeks have been full to the brim. We all have experienced the overwhelm that happens when we are bombarded with one crisis or loss after another. Which often occurs all at once, doesn't it? When the dust settles, and a little sense of peace resumes... the return to daily life is with a fresh perspective.

Over the weekend I was given a bonus to that perspective with a lovely bit of news. It encouraged reflection on how we process our reality according to our perception of it.  My world is still the same one it was a few days ago, and yet a shift in my outlook can make the sky bluer, the leaves greener and ultimately invite me to see the universe as a child does... with wonder and delight.

When I shared this with my mother, she reminded me of the first lines of one of my grandfather's favorite poems by William Wordsworth- Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood:

THERE was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
To me did seem
Apparell'd in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream. *** Oh yes! And now to find a method for holding onto this new way of seeing each day... of valuing what is right before me as the miracle it truly is. Our glorious magnolia has resumed blooming on schedule for earth day and is such a good reminder of the marvel and mystery of it all. ***

truth and trust

 I had always thought of my ex-husband as unique and one of a kind, but it turns out he was very typical.  Entire books have been written about the exact way he left our family out of the blue. Runaway Husbands and The Journey from Abandonment to Healing were both extremely helpful resources. In most cases of marital abandonment, the fleeing partner must demonize the spouse and relationship left behind as they race head first into their new affair. There is almost always an affair, sadly. This is so common in our culture today, and yet most of us are unfamiliar with this pattern because it continues to be spoken about quietly or behind closed doors. I would like to change that so that there is less suffering for those of us left in the dust... often caring for very confused and hurt children.

The only way cheating spouses can live with themselves is to create a storyline in which they are the victim of some wild injustice. Since this is rarely the case, they must convince themselves and those around them by creating a long string of lies and a complete revision of history. Once they start, they cannot stop. They have to create ever-evolving narratives and lie to those that loved and trusted them most. The truth is so much simpler.

Being suddenly left from a happy and normal marriage is completely devastating. It feels like being trapped in a colossal  earthquake. There is no warning, and all you can do is hold onto the doorway for dear life as your walls crumble around you. When the earth stops rocking for a moment, you look around at what's left of your life in disbelief. But instead of being able to pick up the pieces, the aftershocks begin. The aftershocks are their constant lies that keep the ground unstable when you are still trying to find your footing. Truth and trust are the foundation of a solid and healthy partnership. What do you do when it disintegrates so quickly? Do you stop trusting? Do you become a detective to uncover what is real?

Here's a little more of a glimpse into my story, as I sleuthed through the archives of love letters and e-mails my (ex)husband sent to me leading right up to his affair with his coworker at their university. I recently returned to them searching for answers so that I can fully move on.  I reread the sweet  (guilt) notes that he sent to me last January... while they were away together on a "business trip" to Brazil. To go back in time, with the knowledge I have today, has given me more clarity than I ever could have imagined. It's been torture and something no one should have to do, but also incredibly helpful to determine how much deceit I was living with. I've worked so hard to take the high road for an entire year, you know this. But the continued suffering of my son and daughter always make me question how people can be so selfish and destructive to their innocent children. Two happy families were destroyed, and 4 beautiful children were deeply impacted. Ironically, a couple of years ago a scandalous affair erupted between married coworkers at the same university. The conversations we had back then around infidelity and his disdain for such behavior keep haunting me today. Could he have changed so much?

 In looking at his written words to both HER (yes, I discovered some) and me, these questions come up over and over again. I know the answers, but I wish it wasn't so. I'm sure they are the same questions that so many in this situation have asked before me.

• Was he lying to me about his love?
• Lying to her about me?
• Was she lying to her husband?
• Lying to my own husband?
• Were they lying to their children?
• Lying to their coworkers and lawyers?

It's quite amazing what a tangled web is woven once a dishonest path is chosen. 

I'm so thankful to not have to keep track of anything but what is real. My feet are firmly planted on the earth.  What has kept me level headed and strong are the same two words that my partner of 19 years threw away with our family:  TRUTH and TRUST.  I haven't let go of the need for them, but I seek them from within now.  I have always been sincere and loyal (TRUE). I know myself well and am certain (TRUST) about my sense of what is good and right in the world. If we can be true to ourselves and trust our own judgement that is all we need to rebuild a life after the world comes tumbling down.

And so, this afternoon when I discovered the first flowers of 2013 (finally!), I knew it was the perfect time to share more of my experience and raise my voice in support of all who have been left with a bed of lies. Isolation is debilitating. Realizing that others have had similar tragedies has helped me to pull myself together. I want you to know that you are not alone... 

Speak your truth and trust yourself. Tell your story. 

natural connections and trees of hope

I've always been connected to the natural world, but never quite so much as when I moved out to the country... and more than ever during my last year. I have been profoundly touched by how the universe has provided clear signposts to illuminate my path. As if to say, you are not alone. The leaves and trees, the birds and sky- each are witness to your path.

It has felt as if the plants and earth around me have held my pain, joy and hope within their own molecular structures of growth, decay and weather. I wrote about our Magnolia tree last year- here. I'm so happy that it has chosen to keep its buds tightly bound this year. Perhaps, it will wait until the usual April bloom to inform me that life has resumed its normal rhythm. I do listen to the earth's many voices for understanding where to put my energy and how to live honestly. In this vein, I was quite moved by another tree of hope. Perhaps with a cup of tea, you might enjoy this story. There is meaning to be found every where.

growth

  

I have chosen to not hide from my pain. Face it head on, examine its source, and feel it fully. It hasn't been easy. In fact, the process was so exhausting, at first, that I wondered if it was worth the effort most days. It would have been simpler to hide under the covers... I often considered not getting out of bed. But only for a moment. I always pushed my way out of those frozen places and chose life. And bit by bit, I'm emerging. Growing. The energy of this expansion is powerful enough to melt what's been frozen.

 Last fall was extremely rough, but I held onto the vision of the upcoming spring.  And I planted over a hundred bulbs. Crocuses, tulips and dozens of daffodils. I knew that there would be many anniversaries this spring of some not so pleasant events. If my home was surrounded in a riot of colorful blooms, wouldn't it be hard to not celebrate the coming of new life? I planted my hope for fresh beginnings. This past weekend I got my first glimpse of the promise they hold.  My daffodils burst through the ice on Sunday morning. Today the snow is gone and they're reaching for the sun. 

"It is the overpowering strength and patience of nature, it is the awesome and relentless turning of the cycle that brings spring and warmth, an end to hibernation and the rewakening of abundant life."

- Wild Wood Tarot by Ryan and Matthews

river flowing

This morning I sat with a book of Mary Oliver poetry in one hand and Mark Nepo in another. Searching, as I often do, for answers to the many questions that circle through my mind. I was hunting for some meaning to quiet my internal debates. Nothing eases my heart quite like the observations of someone who has asked similar questions.  I find it comforting to surround myself with the words of other seekers. It takes the edge off of this solitary journey, and links me to something bigger than myself. And so the books stacked by my bedside grow ever taller. And this is what I read today:

We Share The Same River

 from The Book of Awakening by Mark Nepo

I was traveling in South Africa and felt very tender one morning, when my friend Kim came upon me as I was weeping. She asked if I was okay. I told her it was only the waters of life splashing up on my shore. Later that day, I found her near tears and checked in with her. She said, "The river's now in me."

We looked into each other and realized that we all share the same river. It flows beneath us and through us, from one dry heart to the next. We share the same river. It makes the Earth one living thing.

The whole of life has a power to soften and open us against our will, irrigate our spirits, and in those moments, we discover that tears, the water from within, are a common blood, mysterious and clear. We may speak different languages and live very different lives, but when that deep water swells to the surface, it pulls us to each other. 

And so you've come to visit,  because your river flows directly into mine. We share the same river, you and I. And we are foraging for reasons that have yet to be revealed.

our creek (when it becomes a river)