Tell
me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
-Mary Oliver
I
cried for two months... in bed under my covers... curled up on the
hard tile floor of my shower with the water beating against my
skin... out in the driveway locked away in my car... never going anywhere, just sitting... sobbing... out of sight and sound of our children.
For
two months I barely slept, barely ate, barely functioned... crying
big ugly tears until my eyes were swollen shut, my heart was a
constant state of deep ache, and I felt as if I may very possibly
stop breathing altogether at any moment.
For
two months I cried.
Then
I stopped.
In
the twenty-nine months since you left me.... I've consulted with
three different therapists, one Bishop, two Shamans, four mystics,
and an energy healer. Our bishop told me that due to my lack of faith
and obedience, it was I who was responsible for the destruction our family, and he feared for our children's souls. I quit attending
the church I had spent my entire life being an active part of, but
hadn't believed in for years. It was a toxic and harmful place, and
my soul no longer felt at home there. Had it ever? No, not really... I
only went to appease you.
I
have found solace in a heavy regimen of yoga, meditation, morning
hikes, and late night walks around the neighborhood. I discovered the beauty, power, and therapeutic value in boldly saying the word "fuck"... a word
I had never dared speak out loud before. I purchased my very first
coffee maker and discovered that God could be found in a cup of
morning espresso. I joined a Kirtan group at the park where I sang
Hare Krishna mantras to John Denver tunes while a darling young man
with goofy ears and the voice of an angel led the group with his
guitar. I visited a Buddhist Temple where I sutra chanted, burned
incense, and listened to the wisdom within dharma teachings. I spent an Easter Sunday with the kids at a Krishna Temple out in the
countryside where we took part in their Holi Festival... joyfully
throwing handfuls of rainbow colored powder in the air, and at each
other until we all looked like tie-dyed versions of ourselves. I sat
in awe at The Cathedral of the Madeline and was moved to tears
through a choir performance celebrating The Christ. I sat in the
living room of a friend where six beautiful woman placed their hands
on my body as they shared kind and powerful words while blessing me
with strength, courage and love... in the warm and fluid manner that
is so naturally female. I stood under a full moon, surrounded by
girlfriends donning leafy crowns and flowing dresses. We drank mead
wine and danced around a crackling fire as we released into the
flames all those things that no longer served us. The 16x20 wedding
portrait that hung for eighteen years on our bedroom wall found a new
home among the ashes.
In
the twenty-nine months since you left me... I tossed, sold, or gave
away our entire household of pretentious furniture and boring decor.
I also ditched of all my fancy designer tracksuits... the silly
outfits that all the suburban moms were wearing. I had a dozen of
them. Who the hell was I trying to be? Oh, and the cable TV... that
time-sucking box which got far more attention from you than we ever
did... gone.
I
have since surrounded myself with awesomeness... with life and energy
and color... funky and fun... weird and random. Everything now has
positive energy, memories, or meaning attached. My first
purchase was a three foot tall Buddha statue that now resides in my
entry way. I had always wanted one... you would not allow it. Holy
fuck (yes, I said fuck) you would absolutely hate this place now! But
you aren't here, I am... and I love it. For the first time since I've
lived here this house finally feels right... it feels like a home...
my home.
In
the twenty-nine months since you left me we changed our diet. We quit
eating pot roast and potatoes and pancakes. We now eat curry and
quinoa and pomegranates and hummus. I learned to make gnocchi
and brew my own kambucha. Sushi is our new family favorite...
learning to make it ourselves is high on our to-do list... just
before Restore a vintage trailer, and right after Hike
to ten waterfalls.
We
got a dog. We named her Karma. This was the first big decision I made
on my own in my newly single life. I surprised the kids with a trip
to pick her up on Mother's Day. She turned out to be the greatest dog
in the history of ever. She saved our kids that first year without
you. She gave them constant and unconditional love, companionship, and comfort. She
healed their broken hearts.
Ten
months later we buried her.
In
the twenty-nine months since you left me I built the large fire-pit
and the meandering rock wall I always wanted. I fixed nine broken
sprinkler heads, and multiple broken pipes. I took apart and
reassembled my lawnmower, my vacuum cleaner, my washer and my dryer.
I replaced the a/c clutch on my old van... and my brake pads... and
my radiator hoses. Thank
you Google. Thank you YouTube... I couldn't have done it without you.
In
the twenty-nine months since you left me I have become
financially independent. I went from being full time, stay-home mom,
to working multiple part-time jobs in order to feed our children and
make a dent in the massive pile of debt and bills you left me with. I
cleaned people's garbage and did their paperwork. I managed ghetto
houses and painted apartments. I landscaped and dug ditches. Yes, I
was a ditch digger... and grateful for the job, and all the others,
as I had no education or employment history to fall back on. I
modeled for a corporate photo shoot, I was a beer vendor at a sold
out rock concert, I house sat and babysat and dog sat...
unquestionably grateful for the opportunities that came my way. I
found a way to turn a favorite hobby and a passion into a career. I
joined an artist's cooperative made up of a dozen extremely cool
people... we run a little upcycled furniture shop together. My love for
treasure hunting, art, antiques, and painting are now all part of
what I do to make a living. Since being an artist does not quite pay
the bills, I also got my real estate license. Do you remember
how you laughed at me when you first heard of my plan to be a
Realtor? Well I did it anyways, and I am pretty damn good at it.
I
am no longer afraid to drive. This happened right in the beginning.
Over twenty years of fear... and then... an instant transformation. I
told myself... You
have too much shit to deal with now, a
fear of driving can no longer be part of it... and
just like that my fear was gone. Driving now means distancing myself
from you... the further I drive, the more alive I feel. I now yearn
for long drives and crave the open road. The kids and I found our way
to Park City, Bear Lake, Zion National Park, Las Vegas, Yellowstone, The Grand Tetons, and Jackson Hole. Downtown
drives to the city went from being a twice yearly excursion to twice
a week... as the energy and diversity that is always found there now
beckons me.
I
also flew alone for the first time in my life. I needed to be far
away on the day you wed the woman you left me for, so I purchased an
airline ticket to Colorado to stay with a friend. I woke up early the
morning of your big day to sad news... my sweet grandma had passed
away. A drive to Manitou Springs and a grueling hike up The Incline
would offer me perspective that day... this became the day
I completely fell
in love with my life.
In
the twenty-nine months since you left me I have danced... I've danced
the fucking hell outta life! I have rocked and salsa'd and
twirled. I've let go to the beat of African drums... sweat dripping,
legs weakening, but unable to stop myself as long as the drums kept
pounding. I dance in my bathroom mirror. I have daily jam
parties in the kitchen with our kids. I rock out in my car
(often creating quite the spectacle for fellow commuters). I
dance at parties and concerts and at nightclubs... on rooftops,
mountain tops, and balconies with views of the city lights and the
setting sun. I dance down crowded streets under a bright sun,
and I dance with bare feet in open fields beneath the evening stars.
Eyes closed... arms in the air... face to the sky. Never caring who
may be watching. I dance for me.
In
the twenty-nine months since you left me I discovered sex...
Not
sex as I knew it.
Sex
as it should be.
Passionate,
exhilarating, fun... two people both wanting each other, enjoying
each other, aware of each other, pleasing each other. At almost 39
years old, this was all completely new to me as I had only ever been
with you... a man who didn't see me... didn't desire me... and
admittedly didn't love me. Sex with you was detached, disconnected,
and... lonely. I determined The Universe wanted me to finally and
fully experience this incredible form of expression, and the next
year would be spent doing just that... experiencing. I dated dozens
of interesting and fantastic men, most of whom are still good
friends... some best
friends.
My first lover was a screenwriter. He was kind and passionate, yet
somewhat of a tortured soul. He would prove to be the perfect friend
and mentor for broken little me. After my initial training was
complete and I was ready to step out into the world, I found myself in the company of musicians, comedians, film makers, doctors, and
wealthy business owners. I dated sexy software engineers with just
the right touch of nerdiness, and ardent world travelers with
adventurous spirits that could never be tethered (nor should they). A
soft spoken firefighter with ginger hair and a muscular body would
make me weak in the knees and cause me pause... but it would be the
ridiculously cute social worker with the bounce in his step, twinkle
in his eyes, and the wild yet sensitive soul, who would be the one to
completely capture my heart... sigh.
In
the twenty-nine months since you left me I fell in love...
deeply, madly, gorgeously in love. No longer that innocent and naive
girl you charmed... the one who at only nineteen years of age, had no
concept of self, and who only wanted to belong to someone. I am not
that girl anymore. I am wiser now, I know myself, and I know what I
want and need in a partner. And more importantly... I know what I
don't want and need, and would rather be alone than be with someone whom my
soul didn't feel at home with. But then, so unexpected... I found an
incredible human who fit me so well that I could hardly believe he
really existed. He understood me... from my core beliefs and outlook
on life, right down to our matching Chucks, and our love for coconut
water. So... I let my protective guard down, I let him into my
heart... and My God it felt good! Forty fantastic weeks of opening up
to someone, feeling comfortable, being myself, and feeling completely
wonderful. Forty surreal weeks, and then... a broken heart...
painfully, beautifully broken. I really thought he might be my
person...
I think I still do. He is who I still dream of every night after my
long and tiresome single mama days. He lies next to me... eyes
locked, my hand pressed firmly over his heart, my other hand on my
own... feeling his energy, mirroring his breath, breathing him in. I
never did this with you. I never did this with anyone. It is something I have only shared with him. It came naturally and
intuitively... connecting intimately like this. I felt safe. I felt
loved. I felt like someone actually gave a shit.
Does
he ever still dream of me?
Oh
the human experience... so raw and wrenching and completely fantastic
at the same time. It can hurt something fierce but if the alternative
is to never allow myself to fully feel all the awesome this world has
to offer...I'll take my chances, risk the heartache,
embrace the pain. There is so much beauty to be found in living
open-hearted, in the moment, and in a state of complete vulnerability...
nothing compares.
And speaking of pain...
And speaking of pain...
In
the twenty-nine months since you left me no one has hit me because I
smiled and nodded a friendly hello to another man while passing
opposite directions in a crosswalk. No one has flung heavy objects at
me for disagreeing with them on politics. No one has punched any new
holes in my walls. No one has stared me down, shook their finger at
my face, and in a harsh cold voice told me how utterly worthless I
am. No one throws food across the room when I make it wrong. No one
tells me my ideas and hopes and dreams are all laughable and
completely idiotic. And surprisingly... not a single person has ever
suggested that I need a boob job in order to be attractive. And with
the exception of your correspondence which I must still endure, no
one in my life has ever tried to convince me, or even suggested, that
I am delusional, unstable, or certifiably crazy.
Also,
in the twenty-nine months since you left...
no
one has raped me.
And
I am NOT crazy... I know this now.
In
the twenty-nine months since you left me... I've been rock climbing
and mountain biking, kickboxing, and pole dancing. I have
discovered a love for live music and have since been to dozens of concerts...obscure Indie bands in divey bars being my favorite. I
volunteer at the homeless shelter and raise money for homeless youth.
The kids and I held homemade signs and waved rainbow flags as we marched together as LGBT allies in the
Pride parade. Home is happier now and more peaceful than it's ever
been before. We hug more, kiss more, smile more, love more. We laugh
together, play together, sing at the top of our lungs in the car
together, and snuggle together... lots.
I
am in awe daily at the beauty that surrounds me. Sunlight
reflecting perfectly upon the petals of a flower with bring me to
tears. The soft eyes of a stranger will bring me to tears. The
laughter of children will undoubtedly bring me to tears. I am
wildly in love with the whole world, and am so excited to have my new
life ahead of me free to discover more, to experience more, and to love more...
more than I ever knew possible.
Thank
you.
Thank
you for leaving me. Thank you for freeing me. Thank you for a second
chance at life... a passionate, whole-hearted, authentic life. From
the bottom of my heart... thank you for the best and most beautiful
twenty-nine months I've ever experienced. I can't wait to see what the next
twenty-nine will bring.
This
life of mine... I wouldn't trade it.
You are amazing - Im in awe.
ReplyDeleteThank you... I am touched.
DeleteYour post made my cry with joy for your journey of pain and ultimate discovery of self. I honor your journey.
ReplyDeleteThank you James, it's been quite a ride. Life is pretty incredible!
DeleteNamaste'
So beautiful. :)
ReplyDeleteThank you Amber, as are you. :)
DeleteTruly amazing. I am so impressed by you.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much. <3
DeleteBeautiful. You should submit to a magazine.
ReplyDeleteWow... thank you! I wouldn't know where to begin.
DeleteThis is Kevin. You know who I am. And just so you know. You are my hero.
ReplyDelete...and you, mine... seriously. Love you forever!
Delete~votre ami la fleur
I absolutely FUCKing love this collection of words from your brilliant soul, and the myriad of ways I was helped to feel as I indulged in reading them. I love you!!!! :)
ReplyDeleteLove you too Eldon, and thank you... truly. You know we had lunch together on my "epiphany day" right after I hiked The Incline. I love that you were part of this day with me. I desperately want to come visit you and Amy soon. xoxo
DeleteThanks for sending this link to me. I LOVE you more every day. I'm so happy to have been part of your life.
ReplyDeleteYou've been a HUGE part of my life! Best wishes on your new life's journey. I miss you already. I love you Sophia!
DeleteYou're an inspiration and the stuff heroes are made of.
ReplyDeleteAwe Stella, thank you.
DeleteDoes your son still live my direction? I would love to take you to dinner if you are ever in town visiting.
I'm a little late, but you never cease to amaze me. You ARE the lotus flower. I admire your ability to embrace life, pain and pleasure. I'm glad our paths crossed that summer day.
ReplyDeleteThank you. You and Blake mean so much to our family. I am glad our paths have crossed as well. You have definitely left an imprint on our lives.
Delete