What will take away the rage, the fatigue, the sheer exhaustion? What will make all of this seem ok, so that I can get up and do this again (and again and again and again and again)? How many days like this until it won’t be like this anymore? Tonight, I feel solidarity will all single parents everywhere who just want some help, because it all feels like too much.
You’ve come a long way baby! You were scared to live without him and then he left. You thought you were going to die, but you didn’t. You were terrified you wouldn’t find a new home, and then you did. You weren’t sure you could make ends meet, but you have, month after month after month. Just look at you go, sweetheart! See how it all works out? From my perspective, you’re a superhero. And…I LOVE YOU.
What calls you out of your cave and into the light of day? What wakes you up from darkest night and opens your eyes to the morning light? What keeps you going when you want to give up and give in? What gives you the reason you need to take one more step, more more breath? Whatever IT is, spend some time giving thanks, so that IT knows you’re grateful.
For a long time it felt like something was missing. I had been a Mrs. for so long, and now he was gone. There was an empty place in my bed, a hole in my heart, an vacant seat at the table, a void of presence in my life. But slowly, slowly, as time went on, I faced the one inside me who believed I couldn’t make it on my own. I worked hard. Day after day, I recommitted to my healing. I began to enjoy the company I kept in the quiet moments of solitude when I wasn’t working or mothering. It’s Saturday night and I’m alone. The highlight of my evening was a long soak in the tub. I love this moment. I love that nothing is missing. I love that I can feel my wholeness now. I love that I stayed alive for my healing.*
*If you’re reading this with a broken heart, having gone through a loss of a relationship or the loss of a loved one or the loss of something by which you formed your identity, please hang in there. It gets better. There were so many moments during my separation and divorce that the pain was so intense that I really thought I wanted to die. Thankfully I had Twelve Step Meetings, therapy and a few really good friends who helped me stay on this planet. On the other side of that terrible trial, I can look back and see what a gift it was. I am stronger now, and more capable of loving authentically. I have a clearer sense of who I am, and a much better idea of where I want to go and what I need to do to get there. There is hope, friend…hang in there.
Dear God, Thank you for this day. Thank you for waking me up again. Thank you for giving me strength to make it through, even when I’m tired, sick, and all I want to do is rest. Thank you for helping me to be the most loving mom I can be to my kids, for tending to their needs joyfully, patiently, and with gratitude that I was blessed with children (even when sometimes I wish I weren’t!). Thank you for cleansing my heart of envy when I see husbands taking care of their wives with love in their eyes. Help me to embrace my loneliness, so that if it is your will one day, I might celebrate partnership again.
Little by little a little becomes a lot. Day by day, step by step, breath by breath, eventually the pieces of the puzzle come together to reveal the coherent whole. Life is a mystery; we can only truly understand it looking backwards. Our faith, our belief in the unseen realm, will guide us through the challenges and the changes in fortune that mark a human life. If we are willing to stay the course, breathe, and believe, one day what we’re currently going through will make sense. So friend, will you breathe with me? Will you breathe and believe?
Up late getting ready. Big day. Big weekend. Today I taught three yoga classes. Tomorrow I’ll teach three classes, then I’ll lead a five hour training. I made eye pillows to give the participants, as well as training manuals so that they can take the information with them. I made a kale and quinoa salad for our working dinner tomorrow. All in all, it will be a twelve hour day… Sunday I’ll teach three more classes. And somehow, somehow, I am to find the time and stamina to PACK MY HOUSE BECAUSE IT’S TIME TO MOVE. I decided it’s not time to freak out. Freaking out is an old, outworn habit, and it really serves no purpose. Instead, I’m choosing presence. I’m showing up inside each moment, clear on what the moment is calling for, and doing that. When it’s time to teach, I’ll teach. When it’s time to eat, I’ll eat. When it’s time to pack, I’ll pack. When it’s time to move, I’ll move. And when it’s time to rest, I’ll rest. I am so grateful to have been brought to this simple place, where I no longer need to chastize myself for what I didn’t do sooner (that’s hopeless). In this simple place, I see what needs to be done, and I do that. There is so much peace in the present moment.