She Tries Video
So, the posts are all over at Things Are Lovely. Click over to see the video I posted about my new digs!
One Life, One Story, Right?
I am posting this on both of my blogs, just so ya know.
I think maybe I have jumped off in the wrong direction, though it was pretty necessary. I started the Maybe A Year blog to try to get a handle on the “Big Horrible Thing” that was happening. This move effectively separated the separation from the rest of my life, made it easier to deal with and kept it at arm’s length.
This way I wouldn’t have to see it as part of me. But it is. The separation is an active part of my life. Scott is a part of my life as much as our daughters are. My Rocklin life and my Geyserville life have to coexist.
One life, one story. This is how I am going to be whole.
So I’ll be bringing the two bits of work together under the Things are Lovely banner, though I really like the theme I use for Maybe A Year. I’ll edit a few of the connecting links, and I’m considering a Maybe A Year tag.
Let me know, please what you think of this. I will keep both sites up to date with any changes until I am done.
Thanks and talk to you Monday, Shannon.
Forgiveness
The best way to heal something is to forgive and today I’m going to practice forgiving myself. Forgiveness leaves a warm space for me to be creative. How do I want to do that? I have no idea. Though what I want to create today is one super final whole day of my daughter’s visit. We are going on some errands and out with my Dad to show her some skills. More on that later. I wonder if the space is supposed to just wait on possibility?
The moment that I pay attention to is the moment I create. So I am going to pay attention to every bit of fun I can have and if the sadness gets in the way, I’ll just have to forgive myself and forgive it, make that space and focus on more fun. Sounds like a plan. Does this idea sound a little jumbly? Well, I’m totally making it up, so there’s my creativity, ha!
Are We There Yet? Being Comfortable with Being Imperfect
Ok, I’m ready for everything to be happening now.
NOW.
And it won’t and that is why my stomach feels the way it does all the time. Impatience is a lot of what led me to all the quick surface fixes that took me down in the first place, but sitting and allowing things to just unfold seems so counter-productive. Yes, I should be walking and journaling and meditating. These are the things that will bring healing to my heart and soul and mind. Yes, I should be consciously getting my finances together, but I can’t force anything to move faster than it is.
This is obviously my incubation time. No matter how much I want to stand up and show how together I am, I’m not. So I sit with it. My blog has few posts and about the same amount of readers. My search for an identity beyond Uber-mom has stalled out at realizing I actually need an identity. Work will come when it comes, and I probably need to get past the place of spontaneous tear-fests anyway.
It’s chop wood, carry water time, folks.
And I can do it. I suppose my first lesson is to sit around being imperfect. It isn’t a safe feeling, but it’s a good one. Imperfect. I don’t have the answers, heck, I don’t have a clue. But if I start with my imperfection, I have that to work with at least.
- If I am imperfect, I probably won’t feel other people’s expectations on me. I won’t lay any expectations on myself either. I can probably just walk around and “be” and see what that looks like.
- The shock of separation shook a lot of rotten crap out of my tree and I was fine in letting it go. Not only did I throw away tons of stuff that was so stinking important just hours before, ideas and values that I thought were special to me just slipped away. I don’t miss any of it. Now I can sit and survey what’s left and see how my remaining dreams and beliefs fit into this new life of mine.
- Thank goodness I already express myself well in writing. I can use my journal to visualize new projects, thoughts, even little ideas. Most will possibly fizzle on the page, but one or two might light up my thoughts and spark into real life.
- Then my journal will be great when I need to record my feelings about what I’m doing, what I’ve done.
Who knows, by the time things finally start happening around here, I will be ready for it all.
Things Are Lovely
is my blog about writing. It is small because I’m cleaning it up and moving forward with it. I just posted an article there about moving forward called, Five Steps Out of the Past and into the Now. And I’m steppin’ ! I’m steppin’!
Six Preschool Lessons for Getting Past the Panic
The facts are what the facts are. I am separated from my husband. It was not my choice, but I know why. We are still married and as long as that is true I aim to focus on my half of the troubles that took us apart and learn to correct them. For better or for worse, this can still be good for me.
The first issue I need to address is the devouring sense of panic I feel at being separate from him. The sadness at failing him may never fade, but this clinginess has got to go. It must be suffocating to feel the kind of NEED I am emanating coming at you all day. The panic is something I remember from the preschoolers I used to teach, and even from my own children in the face of babysitters. Looking at it that way I know it will pass with patience and a plan.
If I was a teacher, facing this panic-stricken child that is also me, how would I help me through this time?
- Hold me. I would hold the child in my arms and offer solid comfort. Walking and using movement to encourage my to process my feelings and get a little outside of myself.
- Talk to me. I would sweetly and gently point out to the child the pretty things around us in hope of eliciting some connecting response.
- Stay alongside me. As the child becomes more interested in her surroundings I would keep a circle of quiet safety around her as she tentatively explored a toy or book.
- Remind me who my friends are. The child might be walking beside me now, or reaching down from my arms and I would beginning to introduce her to the other children, ones who are calmly going about their day and allow her to come alongside these new friends.
- Keep me in sight. As the little child moves off to play on her own, she may still seek me out and I’ll be ready to offer encouragement as she works her way into a productive day.
- Do it again, and again. This might be a process we go through every morning or several times a day, but it will subside and soon separation becomes a normal part of a healthy day.
Now, preschoolers endure separation concretely secure that the parent s coming back. I have none of this. My only assurance is in that this is still a separation and in his own words, “We don’t know where this is going to go.” It’s a slim assurance. but those are the most joyful words in my head right now, and the little girl I have to care for is repeating them over and over in an attempt to be brave.
Looking for the Detour
Yesterday I read a super article by Gabrielle Bernstein that helped me wrap my head around the fear and panic I’m dealing with. And while her article points back to another publication, it is a stand alone must read for anyone feeling separated and stuck from love in their life.
