When I can wade through all this shit, all the heavy stormy waves of the seas of love/betrayal/lies...when I come up for air, of course I am gasping, my lungs full of flooding waters...
I feel shame and embarrassment that I find, even now after the years of hard times, and growing apart that...I STILL care for you. In your best moments, even now, even after all the hurt you have compounded upon this little beating heart of mine. I STILL care for you?
How? Why? What's the point?
I am full aware that I am not innocent in this. Yes, I am guilty too.
I pushed, I pushed, I pushed and you walked away. Though not a clean, clear and steady walk. No, it was more like a plunderous plank walk right into another shit storm, with waves full of hot frothy foam, and tangy sweetness between an others' labial lips.
Oh how aware I am of the complexities that sum up this human that I seem to be.
Complex, stubborn, HOT HEADED, bitchy, crabby, BUT also SO FULL of LOVE, devotion, compassion, empathy and understanding. Never ever has my heart lead me off a plank to betrayal of a loved one's heart. Never have I wished upon anyone in my loving care the hurt that follows in that wake.
I am not a cheater, nor a liar. No, even in the darkest hours of what was, I held steadfast to my devotion, to promises made. No matter the intimacy status, as nil as it had leveled to be, I held true to the words spoken years before.
I have always been on the receiving end of that fools tale. Still, I come back to the thoughts, the knowing...that I indeed pushed, and as I did I pulled away, to protect myself?
Here I am, the fool, the loser, the lost.
It's a doleful tale, been spoken before, and here it is again.
It won't be the last time.
I walked away, you walked away.
I thought I went away...I was wrong.
You really went away...
And that is the hardest truth.
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 18, 2013
Wasteland
(warning - this is incredibly free form)
I'm spinning.
I'm lost.
I might not be as strong as I appear.
Just when all seems well, things are moving forward, it all gets SLAMMED back into my face.
When I think that the lies and the betrayal have ceased, the floor caves in again and there I go getting sucked in and thrashed about.
What the hell happened to you? When did you lose your integrity, my so called best friend of the last how many years? This is more than a betrayal. The level of lying has reached a height that I have never witnessed in my lifetime. Holy fucking shit! What do I do with this gigantic pile of shit that once was a friendship/relationship/marriage?
I cannot even consider you my friend in the wake of the events of the last year (but the buddhist in me wants to just say, it is what it is, and move on). Then there I am, only human, hanging onto the hurt.
You can't answer purely can you? WHY?
Go ahead, you know you want to be with her. SO JUST FUCKING GO.
So thankful for these babies that I can hold close, smell and lose myself in.
I'm spinning.
I'm lost.
I might not be as strong as I appear.
Just when all seems well, things are moving forward, it all gets SLAMMED back into my face.
When I think that the lies and the betrayal have ceased, the floor caves in again and there I go getting sucked in and thrashed about.
What the hell happened to you? When did you lose your integrity, my so called best friend of the last how many years? This is more than a betrayal. The level of lying has reached a height that I have never witnessed in my lifetime. Holy fucking shit! What do I do with this gigantic pile of shit that once was a friendship/relationship/marriage?
I cannot even consider you my friend in the wake of the events of the last year (but the buddhist in me wants to just say, it is what it is, and move on). Then there I am, only human, hanging onto the hurt.
You can't answer purely can you? WHY?
Go ahead, you know you want to be with her. SO JUST FUCKING GO.
So thankful for these babies that I can hold close, smell and lose myself in.
Mar 2, 2013
Honest, Raw Vulnerability
We all need this. Please just be true to us all. Do not hide behind a wall. You are just as vulnerable as I.
Know your most raw and beautiful self. Speak your mind, because, why not? And who gives a fuck! Seriously. I see it every damn day, everyday folk, going through the motions of life (or not really) and it feels/looks like they are moving through quicksand, but in slow motion.
I am stuck analyzing. Observing. It's one of my many quirks, but it's a part of who I am so I do not excuse it, no I do not excuse myself. I'm a patient observant people watcher and I have been "watching" for a very long time. This goes deep, back to when I was a wee once simply content to watch out the car window, and that was all I wanted to do.
The consensus as of late is this: On the whole we tend to generally not be a very kind species to one an other. We move way to fucking fast through our microseconds/seconds/minutes/hours of life. We don't really seem to appreciate all that surrounds us everyday. Miracles. Life. Each and every person we encounter, a beating heart. Yes, you see the shell that surrounds that miracle of a person, but stop, and observe more slowly and notice, and think.
Stop avoiding. Pursue. Say hello to people you see everyday as you go about your routine. Why not? Why is this so hard? Hold the door for everyone you can! Smile at people! Stop looking at the ground as you walk your path, there are so many faces to see, so many beautiful eye colors and gorgeous shades of skin to gaze upon with a loving heart and a wide smile.
We are NOT to good for each other. No. We are here, on this earth, living our earthly lives together. We are blessed with this gift, to learn and grow from one another. I have made the statement before, that if I see you on the street, I will take the time to say hello, and I will.
Even on my darkest days, I will try so hard to walk with my head up, I will try to meet your gaze and smile. For in that next second after the smile...could be the last beat of this walking miracle's strong and love full heart.
Know your most raw and beautiful self. Speak your mind, because, why not? And who gives a fuck! Seriously. I see it every damn day, everyday folk, going through the motions of life (or not really) and it feels/looks like they are moving through quicksand, but in slow motion.
I am stuck analyzing. Observing. It's one of my many quirks, but it's a part of who I am so I do not excuse it, no I do not excuse myself. I'm a patient observant people watcher and I have been "watching" for a very long time. This goes deep, back to when I was a wee once simply content to watch out the car window, and that was all I wanted to do.
The consensus as of late is this: On the whole we tend to generally not be a very kind species to one an other. We move way to fucking fast through our microseconds/seconds/minutes/hours of life. We don't really seem to appreciate all that surrounds us everyday. Miracles. Life. Each and every person we encounter, a beating heart. Yes, you see the shell that surrounds that miracle of a person, but stop, and observe more slowly and notice, and think.
Stop avoiding. Pursue. Say hello to people you see everyday as you go about your routine. Why not? Why is this so hard? Hold the door for everyone you can! Smile at people! Stop looking at the ground as you walk your path, there are so many faces to see, so many beautiful eye colors and gorgeous shades of skin to gaze upon with a loving heart and a wide smile.
We are NOT to good for each other. No. We are here, on this earth, living our earthly lives together. We are blessed with this gift, to learn and grow from one another. I have made the statement before, that if I see you on the street, I will take the time to say hello, and I will.
Even on my darkest days, I will try so hard to walk with my head up, I will try to meet your gaze and smile. For in that next second after the smile...could be the last beat of this walking miracle's strong and love full heart.
Feb 23, 2013
Wild Wolf Woman
I think it's a cultural disease.
We have all lost our way out there in the big wide world.
We have lost touch with our animal selves, leaving our instincts behind losing them to the fleeting winds and highest heights of the tallest elevations that we forget to climb.
I know that I have lost my way, lost my path as a wild wolf woman...(this reference is coming from a very delicious book that I have just begun reading - Women Who Run With The Wolves by Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés).
I can feel the deep ancient connection to that wolf woman within, I feel her writhing within this modern body everyday, but today she isn't just writhing and stirring she is beginning to HOWL and SCREAM.
Finding this path seemingly alone now, she is awakened, guiding me to learn to trust what my bones already know. The cliff that I have fallen from did not break me, I have seen darker caves than this. My heart is strong, it just has to be re-tuned.
We have all lost our way out there in the big wide world.
We have lost touch with our animal selves, leaving our instincts behind losing them to the fleeting winds and highest heights of the tallest elevations that we forget to climb.
I know that I have lost my way, lost my path as a wild wolf woman...(this reference is coming from a very delicious book that I have just begun reading - Women Who Run With The Wolves by Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés).
I can feel the deep ancient connection to that wolf woman within, I feel her writhing within this modern body everyday, but today she isn't just writhing and stirring she is beginning to HOWL and SCREAM.
Finding this path seemingly alone now, she is awakened, guiding me to learn to trust what my bones already know. The cliff that I have fallen from did not break me, I have seen darker caves than this. My heart is strong, it just has to be re-tuned.
Feb 8, 2013
A New Independent Life...
I cannot even begin to comprehend what this means for me. Where does one even find the time or the energy to put one foot in front of the other to pull such a thing to fruition? And with children?
It's so confusing, navigating the path when everyday one's emotions are turning this way and that. I cannot even keep up with the sudden fluctuations of my san(insan)ity. One moment I am in the presence of my ex(?), and he is showing such kindness that it pulls me right into those feelings again...the lost love, the longing...the missing of the smell that resides right there in the space between his neck and his shoulder blade. Some days, when he is here with our children I catch little fragrances of him and it melts me, just a little.
Falling away from what was once such a strong, solid foundation is leaving me with not much more than jaded memories.
Lately, I find myself wanting to warn people of what could befall their marriage if they make the same mistakes, not tending to the relationship that they know NOW.
We are both such strong people, perhaps a bit too strong for "our" own good together. So strong, that we forgot to really pay attention to what we both needed as individuals in the relationship together. I admit, wholly admit that I began retracting myself after my needs were not being tended too. I became distracted and un-attracted to the one person whom I love(d) the most.
Then, when help came to us, help to sort things out, to look at things from a different perspective we became too strong again, and together made a most terrible decision, one that was supposed to help us to have both of our needs met. As it turned out, one of us got their needs met while the other tended to the children and the house. Tragic, devastating consequences ensued and the ramifications of the shock wave are still being felt.
This is not what I wanted to feel, and I don't think that I much care for this "New Independent Life". Besides, it's not fully realized, and I cannot wrap my head around how it could ever be possible for me at this point.
Today my truth is this. I miss my parter, my husband. Even with his betrayal, I miss him and today I am feeling love for him (and this has been creeping up on me more and more often). Even though he has told me his feelings have changed, my heart still cares, still holds a place for his.
It's so confusing, navigating the path when everyday one's emotions are turning this way and that. I cannot even keep up with the sudden fluctuations of my san(insan)ity. One moment I am in the presence of my ex(?), and he is showing such kindness that it pulls me right into those feelings again...the lost love, the longing...the missing of the smell that resides right there in the space between his neck and his shoulder blade. Some days, when he is here with our children I catch little fragrances of him and it melts me, just a little.
Falling away from what was once such a strong, solid foundation is leaving me with not much more than jaded memories.
Lately, I find myself wanting to warn people of what could befall their marriage if they make the same mistakes, not tending to the relationship that they know NOW.
We are both such strong people, perhaps a bit too strong for "our" own good together. So strong, that we forgot to really pay attention to what we both needed as individuals in the relationship together. I admit, wholly admit that I began retracting myself after my needs were not being tended too. I became distracted and un-attracted to the one person whom I love(d) the most.
Then, when help came to us, help to sort things out, to look at things from a different perspective we became too strong again, and together made a most terrible decision, one that was supposed to help us to have both of our needs met. As it turned out, one of us got their needs met while the other tended to the children and the house. Tragic, devastating consequences ensued and the ramifications of the shock wave are still being felt.
This is not what I wanted to feel, and I don't think that I much care for this "New Independent Life". Besides, it's not fully realized, and I cannot wrap my head around how it could ever be possible for me at this point.
Today my truth is this. I miss my parter, my husband. Even with his betrayal, I miss him and today I am feeling love for him (and this has been creeping up on me more and more often). Even though he has told me his feelings have changed, my heart still cares, still holds a place for his.
Feb 7, 2013
Compassion You Can Be Proud Of.
For a long time after my daughter died, I used to ponder the deepest meanings of death. I went to very dark places within my being, and asked questions that under different circumstances (like having a living newborn baby, and not a dead one), I would not be entertaining.
In these times of my darkness, underneath the cloak of grief I began accepting the ease of death. A certain kind of awareness began to rise up in me as the weeks since her death passed me by, and I began to notice in detail the way that people around me moved about the world, totally benign to death, ignorant, blissfully unaware of the fine line they walked in every moment.
I became un-afraid of death, and dying.
Not to turn morbid or dark, but, I am going lead you in that direction...
So much of my time in the last 4 years has been spent joyfully and lovingly doting on my children, who I love with all my being, so much so that it aches me (and more recently, literally aches my back!), and I would NEVER have it any other way. My children, they are my world. I do get lost in all that they are, their thoughts, feelings...creativity, imagination, just ALL of it.
Where I am going with this is here, where I have been, I have been a loss mama. I have been a witness to the death of my own child. I have felt what it is to be devoured by grief, for months, under a dark cloak that with time lifts to let in patches and rays of light.
19 months later, I was a witness to a miracle. To the birth of a living child that changed me in ways that I still cannot comprehend.
In these last nearly 6 years, there has been so much sorrow, pain and yet, joy, happiness, healing and inspiration and back again. Tonight, I find my thoughts in a contemplative place considering what it means to be here, 34 years behind me. A mama, a separated spouse, and if my time came tomorrow what would it mean for my children? This rather scares me because I DO NOT want my children's grandparents having more of a say in my children's lives than they already have. However, without me to care for these incredible little humans nearly FT, who would step up?
These questions are visiting me after news of a high school friends death came out yesterday. She was vibrant, joyful 34 yr old woman, she too had 2 small children and was a very loving and devoted mama.
Could have been me, or you, or anyone.
So, while I am STILL here it's paramount to make the best of all these earthly moments. Become a beacon for compassion, share compassion and feel compassion, feel joy and bring joy to others, share love, feel love, smile, giggle, LAUGH. Notice one's own honesty of what is truly important.
PLEASE live you life with a compassion you can be proud of.
In these times of my darkness, underneath the cloak of grief I began accepting the ease of death. A certain kind of awareness began to rise up in me as the weeks since her death passed me by, and I began to notice in detail the way that people around me moved about the world, totally benign to death, ignorant, blissfully unaware of the fine line they walked in every moment.
I became un-afraid of death, and dying.
Not to turn morbid or dark, but, I am going lead you in that direction...
So much of my time in the last 4 years has been spent joyfully and lovingly doting on my children, who I love with all my being, so much so that it aches me (and more recently, literally aches my back!), and I would NEVER have it any other way. My children, they are my world. I do get lost in all that they are, their thoughts, feelings...creativity, imagination, just ALL of it.
Where I am going with this is here, where I have been, I have been a loss mama. I have been a witness to the death of my own child. I have felt what it is to be devoured by grief, for months, under a dark cloak that with time lifts to let in patches and rays of light.
19 months later, I was a witness to a miracle. To the birth of a living child that changed me in ways that I still cannot comprehend.
In these last nearly 6 years, there has been so much sorrow, pain and yet, joy, happiness, healing and inspiration and back again. Tonight, I find my thoughts in a contemplative place considering what it means to be here, 34 years behind me. A mama, a separated spouse, and if my time came tomorrow what would it mean for my children? This rather scares me because I DO NOT want my children's grandparents having more of a say in my children's lives than they already have. However, without me to care for these incredible little humans nearly FT, who would step up?
These questions are visiting me after news of a high school friends death came out yesterday. She was vibrant, joyful 34 yr old woman, she too had 2 small children and was a very loving and devoted mama.
Could have been me, or you, or anyone.
So, while I am STILL here it's paramount to make the best of all these earthly moments. Become a beacon for compassion, share compassion and feel compassion, feel joy and bring joy to others, share love, feel love, smile, giggle, LAUGH. Notice one's own honesty of what is truly important.
PLEASE live you life with a compassion you can be proud of.
Jan 26, 2013
Telling Stories
A few days ago while my eldest was in the bath he began telling me about the books that he would someday write. Not just one, not just two books. I believe that he gave me a list of four or more...(which I promptly jotted down on a piece of paper for him to refer to when the time comes)
How can I, as his Mama not feel utterly inspired to create my own stories to tell.
Everyday, I am inspired by these children before me. Sometimes just looking into their eyes sends me spiralling into an abyss of silent creative splendor. I begin reeling with ideas that I cannot in the moment capture on paper, I have to try to stow it away for when I have time alone...Ha!
My truth be told, I am never alone, not truly, not yet.
I'm 100% dedicated to raising my children, which entails the smallest to be with me (if not awake and crawling or working on walking skills), then he's on my asleep and/or nursing. There is no other choice for me, this is how it must be. SO, since I have a not yet 1 year old, he is always here...and I love it!
Now, in the moon glow of this beautiful and bone chilling night, I can sit here, on this birth ball (sleeping baby upon my chest via baby carrier) and write until my eyelids start to close. Though, I won't, I will soon realize that even though it's not late for most people (only 9:30pm!), that I will be awakened around 7am and to avoid turning into a grumpasaurus, I better go to bed.
One last thought though. As the next month is right around the corner, the month of this sleeping babes birth, my heart feels full. It's terribly hard for me to get into a memory space of what my body felt like at this time last year, a few weeks from his birth. Though, I can recall what I looked like! I was heavy-set, as I do become in pregnancy, and the last pregnancy was the "lightest" of the three I have been blessed to have.
Still, February is coming and this wee one will become a 1 year old! Oh my, little guy, OH MY!
The month following, March. On March 3rd, will be a day to remember Birdie who would be 6. My recollections of the time spent with her body after her death grow less and less clear with each year. There have been plenty of times in the last few years when I have stepped off and away from writing about her, about her death and the experience of such tremendous loss. This, has left me feeling a kind of empty space, confused, helpless and guilty.
I cannot be hard on myself about this, obviously I am full aware that I have two living children who keep me full and high on them everyday. There are definitely whispers of her that fill the house, and sometimes tears...when my oldest son (who is 4) asks me about her, and asks to look through her memory box. Or, he will surprise me with his thinking about her, and talk about her being in the stars and how he loves her so much and misses her...and how he really wants to see her.
In these moments shared with this amazing living child, I feel full of him and her all at once.
How can I, as his Mama not feel utterly inspired to create my own stories to tell.
Everyday, I am inspired by these children before me. Sometimes just looking into their eyes sends me spiralling into an abyss of silent creative splendor. I begin reeling with ideas that I cannot in the moment capture on paper, I have to try to stow it away for when I have time alone...Ha!
My truth be told, I am never alone, not truly, not yet.
I'm 100% dedicated to raising my children, which entails the smallest to be with me (if not awake and crawling or working on walking skills), then he's on my asleep and/or nursing. There is no other choice for me, this is how it must be. SO, since I have a not yet 1 year old, he is always here...and I love it!
Now, in the moon glow of this beautiful and bone chilling night, I can sit here, on this birth ball (sleeping baby upon my chest via baby carrier) and write until my eyelids start to close. Though, I won't, I will soon realize that even though it's not late for most people (only 9:30pm!), that I will be awakened around 7am and to avoid turning into a grumpasaurus, I better go to bed.
One last thought though. As the next month is right around the corner, the month of this sleeping babes birth, my heart feels full. It's terribly hard for me to get into a memory space of what my body felt like at this time last year, a few weeks from his birth. Though, I can recall what I looked like! I was heavy-set, as I do become in pregnancy, and the last pregnancy was the "lightest" of the three I have been blessed to have.
Still, February is coming and this wee one will become a 1 year old! Oh my, little guy, OH MY!
The month following, March. On March 3rd, will be a day to remember Birdie who would be 6. My recollections of the time spent with her body after her death grow less and less clear with each year. There have been plenty of times in the last few years when I have stepped off and away from writing about her, about her death and the experience of such tremendous loss. This, has left me feeling a kind of empty space, confused, helpless and guilty.
I cannot be hard on myself about this, obviously I am full aware that I have two living children who keep me full and high on them everyday. There are definitely whispers of her that fill the house, and sometimes tears...when my oldest son (who is 4) asks me about her, and asks to look through her memory box. Or, he will surprise me with his thinking about her, and talk about her being in the stars and how he loves her so much and misses her...and how he really wants to see her.
In these moments shared with this amazing living child, I feel full of him and her all at once.
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