Sad Sad Songs

She put on the sad sad songs and decided to wallow awhile.  It was self indulgent and fruitless.  It certainly wouldn’t help.  In the moment none of that mattered.

 

The wallowing gave a temporary reprieve from the pressing air.  There was a fiction of movement.  As though this was somehow moving on.

 

But she was not entirely naïve.  She recognized this as the junior high school response to heartache.  There was only so long this could fill any need in a grown person’s life.

 

The volume increased along with the wallowing.  The reprieve would only be temporary, so she may as well take it for all it was worth.  She could feel baselines in her belly.  She was tapping rhythm with her fingers.  She felt melody welling up inside of her.

 

She was tentative at first.  Her movements were subtle.  Her voice was a whisper.  She was aware of how this might look.

 

And she let the crest of the wave break on her.  She sang.  She danced.  She closed her eyes and gave herself over. 

 

Time ceased to matter.  Outside concerns melted away.  She was only aware of the sound of her voice and the beat of her heart.

 

And when she had poured everything out into the ocean of sound, she breathed deep and opened her eyes.

 

“Enough” she said to the empty room.

 

Stop

It’s too easy to give yourself away.  Every time you say you will not repeat the mistake.  But you do.  Because you want to believe this time will be different.  But it isn’t.

 

It may seem so at first.  You talk.  You laugh.  You believe you’ve turned the corner.  Come back to where it was good and you both felt safe.  But it doesn’t last. 

 

You give yourself away and then comes silence.  You feel unwanted, ignored.  Your heart tells you to reach out.  Your pride tells you to wait.

 

And days pass.  It hurts to think someone who told you they loved you doesn’t want to talk to you.  And you want to talk to him.  You want to hear his voice, share his world.   But you get silence.

 

Your friends are sympathetic at first.  Things come up they say.  Don’t read too much into it they say.

 

But as the same behavior plays out again and again, they become frustrated on your behalf.  It’s a game they say.  You deserve better they say.

 

And sometimes you believe this.  Believe you deserve someone who can’t wait to hear your voice, see your face, touch your hand.  Deserve someone who doesn’t take you for granted.  Deserve someone who is proud to be with you.

 

And sometimes you reply by telling them they don’t know the whole story.  How when you are together it’s wonderful.  How he’s not a bad guy.  How you understand why there is so much leaving.  How it’s not really his fault.

 

But you’ve given yourself away and now you can’t take it back.  The leaving is a choice and you are not being chosen.  There are games being played and you don’t know the rules.

 

You realize the effort you expend trying to hold things together is not being met halfway.  You realize you are a matter of convenience.  You realize you are only wanted some of the time.  You realize it’s the idea of you and what could be that’s of interest.  You realize he stopped seeing you some time ago.

 

You feel hurt, then angry.  Sadness replaces that and it all ends with acceptance.

 

You recognize your friends were right.  He’s not a bad guy.  He’s just not good to you.  He makes you sad.  He lets you down.  He tells you he loves you but treats you as though you are inconsequential.  He is playing a game, an unconscious one, but a game nonetheless.

 

And you are tired of playing.  So you stop.  And it isn’t easy because you still love.  But love isn’t enough anymore.

 

So you stop.  Stop giving yourself away.  Because there is no more of you to give.  Because you are worth more.  Because you can’t continue to care this much.  Because the beauty of what was has become overshadowed by the pain of what is.

 

So you stop.  And there is silence.

 

And freedom.

The Room and the Restlessness

She rambled around the house without purpose or direction.  The distraction of the end of their relationship prevented her from successfully completing any task.  The laundry was half folded, the dishes rinsed but not washed, dinner started but abandoned.

 

There was no sitting still.  She moved through each room of the house, staying only briefly.  Each room but the room.

 

The room was small, taken up largely by the bed.  The bed was currently disheveled.  She couldn’t bring herself to make it.  The thought she might feel better if she stripped the sheets, washed the bedclothes and cleaned the room passed through her mind.  She took a deep breath determined to do just that.  The doorknob was in her hand.  She exhaled loudly and walked away from the closed door.

 

Her restlessness was consuming.  One moment she was furious, convinced she had been badly used and disrespected.  The next she was oddly relieved that things were finally settled.  Then a deep sadness washed over her.  The worst was the aching emptiness. 

 

She had taken to sleeping on the couch.  Sleep came in fits and starts.  Her brain would madly chase its own tail as she stared blankly at the ceiling.  When she did mercifully drift off, it was only for a short time. 

 

She knew things would get better.  She knew things were for the best.  She knew it was better to be alone than be with someone who doesn’t want to be with you.  She knew she would get past this and be happy again. None of this knowledge dulled the sharp edges.

 

In the late night early morning when all was quiet she was overwhelmed with the loss.  There had been so much potential.  There had been a lot of laughter.  There had been good times.  There had been friendship.  There had been love.

 

She found herself laying on the couch early in the morning, wide awake, brain racing.  She got up and slipped into her coat and boots.  The night was bitterly cold and cloudy.  The backyard was filled with a deep darkness.  She closed her eyes and breathed deep. 

 

As she stood shivering she went over the conversation in her mind.  Some of it she found perplexing.  Some of it she understood.  Some it was not about her at all.  She felt hurt and abandoned, but she also felt a peace in knowing where she stood. 

 

She would miss him.  She would miss his sense of humor and silliness.  She would miss talking to him about things that excited her.  She would miss his perspective.  She would miss the way he smelled and his eyes.

 

There were things that were true, that had always been true.  In that moment in the cold night air she could see them clearly.  She was ok.  She did not need a hero and had never wanted one.  She deserved to be seen as a blessing and not a burden.  She had a lot to offer.  She was loyal and true.  She loved deeply.  She was worth it.

 

She opened her eyes and exhaled.  When she moved back toward the house it was with purpose.  The laundry was folded.  The dishes were washed, dried and put away.  The remnants of dinner were cleaned up.

 

She stood in front of the door to the room.  The doorknob was in her hand.  A calm washed over her.  She pulled back her hand.  The room could stay as it was for the moment.  Now she could sleep.

The Machinations of the Human Heart Part 2

The heart is much stronger than we give it credit for.  It is capable of bearing incredibly heavy burdens and suffering shattering blows.  And through it all it retains then ability to love, even those responsible.  It has no use for anger or hatred.  It is an organ which perseveres.

 

The heart will forgive you when you push it to its limits.  When you have gone too far or given too much, it hurts for a while and then it heals.  In situations where it should give up on you, it stands firm.

 

The heart is a miraculous thing, for it is the source of joy and hope and love.  It should not be lightly given, nor should it be ignored.  It should remain open.  The greatest gift we can give one another is an open heart.

 

I have been afraid to be that open or give that much for such a long time.  That fear has darkened things meant to be light, saddened things meant to be happy and complicated things meant to be simple.  The world provides a plethora of reasons to doubt love and fear vulnerability.  The true challenge is not to succumb to the desire to withdraw.  Strength lies in believing even though you may not have a reason to believe.

 

In this blossoming year I am making a promise to myself to be the open, trusting and giving person I know myself to be.  I am promising to let go of fear.  I am promising to open myself to those around me.  I am promising to believe in love.

Happiness Is…

A good friend and I were having a conversation about happiness.  I told him, “My life might be crazy a lot of the time, but I am, for the most part, happy.”

 

Then I realized how true a statement it was.  When I step away from the events or situations that have caused difficulty or pain I feel a deep contentment.  I have beautiful daughter, fantastic friends and supportive family.  I have a safe home, clean water to drink, healthy food to eat and many amenities that other citizens of the planet consider to be luxuries.  I do my best to be a good person and although I am far from perfect, I am good enough.

 

Everybody experiences hardship.  Everybody experiences sadness.  Everybody experiences frustration.  I have clung to those emotions and made my world about them at certain points in my life.  But what became clear to me last night is happiness is not the absence of those emotions, it is the acceptance of them.  And not a defeated “my life is total crap” acceptance.  A “how would I appreciate the light without the dark” acceptance. 

 

Happiness is not:

 

·         A geographic location

·         who you are with

·         what you own

·         where you have traveled

 

Happiness is:

 

·         a state of mind

·         who you are

·         what you have accomplished

·         peace in your heart

·         acceptance in your mind

·         comfort in your skin

·         love of yourself

 

Nobody can give it to you and nobody can take it away.  You are responsible for your own and no one else’s.  If you do not care for it, you may lose it.  If you nurture it, it will grow.  I for one am recommitting to fostering my own happiness.  I think we all should.

Fear, Mediocrity and Love

I had a conversation last night with a friend about the end of his most recent relationship.  A major theme was a difference in where the two were at in their lives.  His ex, a mother of two and career woman, was looking for commitment and stability.  He wasn’t ready to let go of freedom.  He wanted to be able to travel or go to school.  Listening to him talk about these differences it became clear that he believed them to be desires which could not co-exist.  Compromises would have been made which would have inevitably led to remorse and resentment.  As I watched him work through these issues I was struck by the tremendous sense of loss that he seemed to be grappling with. 

 

He described the end of the relationship as an illuminating experience.  There seemed to be this realization that perhaps the situation wasn’t as much of a compromise as he thought.   He talked about wanting to continue spending time with the kids because of the deep connection he felt to them.  But then he would say that he was able to make to commitment that she wanted and he knew that it hurt her.  The struggle was between this vision he had for himself and the reality of his emotion for this family he had become a part of.

 

I began to think about my own situation and the issues that had come up for me.  I look at myself as a single mother and have a hard time feeling secure in relationships.  The reasons for those insecurities are exactly what had happened in this case.  My life is settled to a certain extent because I am a mother.  My life requires a certain degree of stability because of the responsibilities I have.  I have assumed these attributes to be a deal breaker for most men.  I had thought that most men were not ready willing or able to commit to a domestic life with a single mother.

 

My observation of my friend’s situation, admittedly tinted by the lens of my own experience and limited knowledge of the situation, was that the desire to make the commitment was there.  He wanted to be a part of this family.  He wanted to be there for this woman.  The real obstacle in the relationship was fear.  The fear of mediocrity.

 

As human beings we have a deep desire to be exceptional.  We want to stand out.  To have a skill or ability that sets us apart.  To lead an unparalleled life.  For many people the life of parent, spouse, homeowner and employee is completely contrary to that desire.  There is nothing exceptional in that life.  It is mundane.  It is conventional.

 

My great ephinany last night is how untrue that is.  My friend had asked me how I reconcile my own desires with being a mother.  What I couldn’t articulate in the conversation was that there is no reconciliation required.  I didn’t stop being me when The Fiend came into the world.  Becoming a mother did not make me half a person.  It made me a whole person.

 

There have been some changes.  But they have been positive changes.  It is so easy to talk about all the things you want to do when you are free of real responsibility.  That doesn’t mean you follow through on any of it.  In fact in most cases you don’t.  And perhaps because you don’t have responsibilities.  Because you haven’t learned the balancing act.

 

It is folly to view parenting as putting your life on hold.  It is an exercise in effectively utilizing your time.  I still have all the same desires.  The difference between pre-Fiend me and post-Fiend me is that I have actually accomplished some of those things.  Being a parent is a motivating thing.  And it should be.  It is a matter of accepting the grace and inspiration that is part of that gift.

 

I want to be the best person that I can for The Fiend, but more importantly for myself.  I want to be a role model and an inspiration for my child.  I want to proud of my accomplishments both as a parent and as a person.  And I want to support The Fiend in her pursuit of the same things.

 

And it is no different in a romantic relationship.  Your job as a partner is to provide support.  If both partners are doing there job, the burden of the mundane is shared leaving more time for the exceptional.  If someone I loved really deeply wanted to go back to school, my job is to figure out how best to support them in that pursuit.  I my deepest desire is to have time to devote to painting it becomes my partner’s job to encourage that in practical and emotional ways.  The person you are in love with should motivate you, support you and sustain you.  The person you love should make you whole.

 

Now understand when I say The Fiend makes me whole or that a lover should make you whole, I am not implying that I wasn’t or couldn’t be without these things.  Love does not detract from the whole of you.  It supports your wholeness.  It amplifies it.  Love does not create mediocrity.  It banishes it.

 

The reason is love at its most basic level is wanting to be your best and wanting to help those you love be their’s.  So few of us ever successfully do this.  So few of us create a family in the truest sense of that word.  So few of us are able to transcend the hollow desire for a false sense of “freedom”.  So few of us are able to understand that true freedom comes from true love. 

 

True love is rare and precious.  And accepting it into your life will make you exceptional more surely than any trip or class or lifestyle.  Running from it will only leave you with regret and remorse.  Running from it will make you mediocre.

The Necessity of Hope

Humans are inherently optimistic creatures.  We want to believe the best in each other.  We want to believe that things can change.  We want to believe that everything will be alright.

 

And we should.  It is when the heart closes, when the soul becomes bitter and the spirit jaded we become less.  Discontent breeds despair. When we lose hope we lose.

 

When instead we open our hearts to the possibility of joy or beauty we become capable of those things.  Optimism is the food of the divine within each of us.  Without it life becomes dull and rote.

 

Not everything will go our way all the time.  That is simply reality.  But when we stop expecting good things to happen, they will stop happening.  It is important to hold onto to the hope that there is something better on the horizon.  To accept that the reason one thing did not work was to make room for something different.

 

It certainly is not easy to remain hopeful.  There are obstacles thrown in our paths regularly.  But I am committing to not throwing up my hands and throwing in the towel.  I am determined to take the situations in my life that could drag me down and learn from them in order to build me up.  I will accept the things I did not achieve were not meant to be.  There will be no hiding from the mistakes I’ve made so I will not be doomed to repeat them.  Laughter will carry me through.  Good friends will remind me to stay on course.  Hope will help me heal.

Heartbreak Even

Heartbreak is a funny thing.  The walls close in, all seems dark and it becomes hard to breathe.  The constant dull ache of emptiness is paralyzing.  It suppresses the will to create anything positive or good.  It invites wallowing and drama.

 

There is a misconception heartbreak is typically the result of one action or incident.  Heartbreak is really comprised of a thousand paper cuts.  Often we are blissfully unaware of how are actions are doing irreparable damage.  They are selfish acts for the most part.  It is when we forget to consider the other half of the equation that we do the most damage. No one can hurt you quite like the people you love.  Fortunately most of the time people work very hard not to hurt the people they love.

 

Very rarely is heartbreak one-sided.  Chances are if a person has caused it in you, you have done the same in them.  People aren’t as good at being direct with each other as they probably should, especially when it comes to love.  Instead of addressing minor slights when they arise, we tend to suppress.  And we retaliate in small passive aggressive ways.  Perpetrating small acts of unkindness upon each other, escalating from one to the next until you are at each other’s throats and you don’t know how you got there.

 

It is almost never a scenario were its just one person was an asshole and the other a saint.  We are all assholes some of the time and very few of us are ever saints.  We act out, behave badly and throw tantrums.  We expect unreasonable things. We don’t take others into consideration.  We expect others to read our minds and get unfairly angry when they don’t succeed.

 

We are all insecure and scared when it comes to love.  It causes us to react illogically and irresponsibly much of the time.  It takes work to do right by your partner.  Sometimes it requires doing things that are not comfortable or easy.  Love works when both people involved are willing to do that for each other without condition or complaint.  If that doesn’t happen, you end up with heartbreak on both sides.

The Machinations of the Human Heart

 The heart is a fickle thing, prone to fits of passion.  It does not respond well to logic or reason.  It has no use for accountability or consequences.  It is an organ which does not play nicely with the other organs, especially the brain.

 

The heart will forge on blindly even though all indications point toward liberally applying the brakes.  When it seems as though the smartest thing to do would be to walk away before you are hurt, the heart plants it’s feet and refuses to budge.  In situations which are clearly best left alone, the heart pushes pokes and prods.

 

The heart is a tender thing, a wellspring of great joy and contentment.  It is the source of the sweetness of new love.  It is the keeper of acceptance and peace.  It is an organ awash in optimism.

 

The heart will burn hotly for a person deemed worthy.  When it seems as though feelings could not be greater, the heart floods it’s unsuspecting owner with a wave of emotion that knocks her off her feet.  It fills the spirit to overflowing and doesn’t stop there.

 

The heart is an impractical thing, oblivious to the requirements of day to day existence.  It does not keep to a schedule.  It does not consider other issues when it decides to throw its weight around.  And it is a weighty organ.

 

The heart will cause incredible torment or dizzying happiness with no regard for your work schedule.  When there is a task at hand it willfully downplays the importance of anything but its own agenda.  It is the cause of lack of focus and debilitating distraction.

 

The heart is a fierce thing, able to withstand incredible strain.  It is deceptively strong and resilient.  It can carry far more than it seems it should.  It is the organ upon which all else depends.

 

The heart will reach to point of breaking and continue on.  When all seems dark and without hope it finds the flicker of light and cleaves to it.  It carries its owner through the despair associated with loss, the rush of excitement and the satisfaction of love.  All without complaint or condemnation.  With the glorious momentum of divine purpose.  Without fear.  With great love.  

Loneliness

My sister and her fiance came to visit us last night.  We had fun playing with the dogs, they have a super cute puppy named Maisy, and hanging with The Fiend.  After I put The Fiend down for bed we chatted about what their plans are.  They joked about who was going to stay home with the babies and how neither of them wanted to change diapers.  We discussed where they want to live and what type of work they want to pursue.

They are a great couple.  Each of them has retained their individuality while still providing an excellent support system for each other.  They are at ease with each other.  I watched them talk openly and honestly about their fears and concerns about getting married without accusation or anger.  Their relationship is one that works because they work at it together.

After they left I found myself dwelling on how I have never been able to achieve that with any of my relationships.  I found myself in a place of doubt, wondering why I haven’t been able to find that, what deficit in my personality makes me a disposable partner.  I began to question what character flaws prevent people from wanting to put work into a relationship with me.

Of course that’s a two way street.  Have I wanted to put work into a relationship?  That’s not a question I have a good answer for right now. 

There have been two men I wanted things to work with, one a long time ago and one more recently.  I was willing to do certain things, but not willing to do others.  When things got difficult, my default position was ending the relationship.  In both cases that is what eventually happened.

I can’t speak for those two men.  I don’t know if they were willing to work to make things work.   I don’t know if they were ready for that commitment.  I can say I was not willing to work.  I was not ready for that commitment.

Perhaps I was just not ready.  Perhaps I have not yet been worthy of that kind of commitment.  Perhaps neither of these men was the right person.  Perhaps I wasn’t the right person.  Whatever the reason, it was not the time. 

I’m trying very hard to bear in mind the most recent example of my ineptitude with relationships is not a condemnation of my character.  Sometimes things don’t work even when you really want them to.  This ties back to my earlier discussion of expectation.  I have never expected a relationship to work.  I have always assumed that the other person would come to their senses and head for the hills.  And either I leave before I get left, or I get left.

All this is evidence of the importance of developing a stronger sense of self-worth.  By not understanding my own value I precluded a successful relationship by presuming failure.  I have a friend who accuses me of putting potential suitors through all sorts of Herculean tasks, but not to prove that they are worthy of me.  Instead I am trying to show them I’m not worth the trouble.  He tells me that I should put men in my life through the tasks, but I need to change the mindset.  They do need to show me that they are worthy of me.  He reminds me I am worthy.

That is hard for me to accept.  I so often find myself convinced that lovers, partners and friends could do so much better.  I assume that there is a certain degree of pity that enters into all of my human interactions.  Intellectually, I understand this to be utter nonsense.  Emotionally, I have a hard time reigning it in.

So after my sister left I had a good cry about my inevitable fate as the cat lady.  Then I gave myself a good mental slap in the face.  This is what I am working on.  And this is why I am working on it.  The self-loathing has become toxic.  I have to learn to love myself as myself.  To detached my value from my relationship status.  To recognize that I am worthy.  To accept love.  To fight for it.  To expect nothing less from those in my life.

It is not an easy road to walk on.  Nobody likes to be lonely.  And right now I am lonely.  After the day slows down and there are no longer any distractions it is hard to ignore the space left behind in someone’s absence.  What I have to learn is space is ok.  It is healthy.  It provides room to grow.  Once I can come to that point of acceptance I will stop being lonely.  I will be with myself.