I'll have what she's having

I had an "ah-ha" moment in my car on my way home last night. But before I get into that moment, I must begin by saying how fabulous my car is because it forces me to do two things on a random and frequent basis: 1. Be completely aware of my car's speed by watching the flow of traffic and when that's not available (say, after 1AM), to go slower than I think I'm going because the speedometer works, ya know, when it wants to. and 2. To sit and be OK in silence because my radio? It too works when it feels like it. It's amusing every time I think about it. I have no problem with either of these issues because I like to rock out in my car but sometimes, I need the forced silence to be able to hear my thoughts, talk myself into and out of things and to digest my daily experiences. Initially I thought I wouldn't use my car much but it has been a constant companion and so these moments of silence (and heat - OH the HEAT - because the air-conditioning doesn't work either), I feel everything that much more.

So last night, after an after-dinner drink with a few of my new coworkers, I was driving home in silence thinking about a few conversations I've had with people lately. Namely, those that I’ve had with my sister and SisteroftheSun. Both have pointed out on more than one occasion that I am a serial monogamist. They may not have called it that exactly but both have reminded me that in essence, I have been in and out of serious or semi-serious relationships with men since I was 18 and have never been single for more than 8 months since that time. Let me repeat: I have not been single for longer than 8 months. And so after having fun conversations with a few of my male coworkers, flirting with the bar tender but then leaving alone yet again I felt the loneliness that has been my dedicated companion since my Ex left. Nope. I guess I just can’t get used to sleeping alone.

I have had fun, sexy and somewhat confusing dreams about men since I left NY. Sometimes I wake from those dreams, head to work and see one of the previous night’s main actors and wonder if he knows, somehow, that I had a dream that we kissed and it was yummy. I’m positive that he has no idea but I'm sure I blush all the same. The last dream, however, was just about being hand-in-hand with someone and being near him, like I used to be with my Ex for five years. I am a physical person in relationships. I enjoy the kissing and cuddles, wherever they may be, even in public (no tonsil hockey, just cuddles). So this lack of human touch at the same frequency that I was used to has been one of the hardest adjustments to being single. I admit - I hate it. You don't realize how much it happens in a relationship until you're yearning for someone to brush by you or you don't mind when coworkers give you a little grab here and there. It's pathetic; I know.

I have let my thoughts and feelings about being single be what they are, without the self judgment. But in realizing that it's mostly the physical aspect of a romantic relationship and not necessarily a need I have to be partnered with someone that I miss the most has been a welcomed realization. Maybe I'm meant to learn something about self-love and nurture that is impossible to fully understand if I'm in a relationship. And I think of the times in my future when I will be ready to allow a man into my space like that again - how very amazing that will be then. At the end of my last relationship, we were both in a desert of emotion. While we touched and hugged a lot, the intimacy was lost somewhere along the way...if it was ever there romantically. I know that this loneliness (both the physical and emotional kind) will lead me to a place where I no longer feel the need to be in a relationship; that I will find a place where I’m happy in my solitude again.

I want that. I want an inner peace and self-love. I want to be abundant in the light that shows when a woman is in love with herself. We don't see it often enough, do we? But when we do, it is like a beam that no one can deny. I saw it recently in a woman sitting down for dinner with her love. I did not even notice the guy she was with but her inner light was radiant. I remember thinking, “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”

Wading in the water...

Two of my mom's best friends came to visit her last week. These women were there when things went sour with my parent's relationship. One of them was my softball coach when I was 10 and the other's kids were our best friends growing up. These are two women that my mother loves as sisters and I count as aunts, even if they aren't by blood. So I had lunch with them and of course, they went through the updates that come with conversations with old friends.

At one point in the conversation, I don't know what triggered the question, but one of the women asked me if I felt like I had done something wrong to elicit my Ex's decision to end our relationship. In fact, it was actually a question posed as the following, "you don't feel any of those feelings like that you did something wrong or that this was somehow your fault?" I responded with: "of course." And I do. The other woman told me that it had nothing to do with me. But I know better. Relationships are never one-sided. Even if my Ex told me that it was so he could "find himself," I know better. Something, somewhere, sometime went wrong.

I have met so many people these last couple of months that tell me that they know what I feel like. It really isn't any comfort that all of these people have had their heart ripped out of their chests; that they lost a lot of weight because they couldn't muster the strength to eat and their adrenaline was so amuck that their heart rate was likely way beyond normal; that they cried themselves to sleep; that they were forever scarred by the loss of love. If I'm honest, it makes me that much more distrustful of ever falling in love again. I'm petrified of the mere thought of it.

As the time passes, I find myself learning to live this life of being single. I enjoy the freedom, the lack of accountability, the choices I now am more open to making. When I flirt, I feel no guilt. When I look at my future, I know that I am now free to spend as much time as I need finding my way. My choices affect noone but me.

But then I realize how alone I am and I know that I'm not yet at a point where that doesn't feel like something that will last the rest of my lifetime. I notice couples more than I used to. I see them in a way I never have before; walking their dog together, choosing a restaurant (like I used to with my Ex), kissing...I find myself watching them and wondering if they're really happy together. Do they fight? Does one of them love the other more? Are they really in love or just biding their time - like my Ex apparently did? Romances unfold in my restaurant and I see how one watches the other longingly as the other flirts shamelessly with everyone else. That whole dating scene? I don't want anything to do with it. It all just makes me sad. It discourages me. But mostly, it frightens me. Do I dare imagine that I will ever be capable of trusting someone after all of this? Do I still have faith in love?

I've heard the words that come out of my mouth and it is ever so apparent that I'm still not ok. I want to be. I'm doing what it takes to move through all of this shit and find my way and myself but I'm still human and the healing process is still underway.

But I still cry, when I'm alone with only the wind to remind me that this will blow over and I will someday be ready to let go of my branch. May I someday have the courage it takes to let it go.

I affirm: I did not drown. Close but I kept my head above water.

I think I siked myself out as I stood there waiting for my group to be called to the water's edge. I felt so paniked about my impending doom...er, I mean, swim, that I was blinking back tears of pure terror. I know this is a dramatic rendition of an exciting triathlon story but seriously? I kept feeling like I was walking the plank to my doom only I wasn't alone. Oh no, there were many crazy people standing in the water looking like I must've looked like, petrified and wondering, "what the hell am i doing? Maybe if I climb over there, in the commotion, they won't see me get out." But as the countdown came and went, I couldn't turn back so I got into the Arctic, I mean, the lovely cool water and began what would be long moments of my life that I cannot get back. It really wasn't bad for the first 4 minutes. I kept thinking that my heart would eventually calm down and the thought of being out in the middle of the lake would eventually not seem such a frightening thing. I was wrong. I really wasn't sure I'd be able to finish. I swam out of a pure desire to SURVIVE. And after a long time and many pitstops and moments talking to the cute volunteers in the canoes, I finally made it to the shore that seemed to mysteriously move further and further away while I was in the water.

I realized that my fear of the ocean and the lake? Yep - it's still there. I know that the liklihood of an octopus pulling me under is really slim in both situations, the possibility that it COULD happen is enough for me to enjoy the water from afar. I also realized that fear is a powerful force that, if harnessed, can do amazing things. Like, save your life when you choose to throw yourself into a lake (for fun!) with a bunch of crazy women.

To my mother and sister and those women who completed the entire triathlon - my hat is off to you. You are my heros!! The unity I felt with all of those women, and especially with my family, was enough to ellicit tears now. And to those women who competed in the triathlon after either enduring chemotherapy or surviving (yay!) breast cancer, I am in awe of your courage. I am in awe and utterly inspired.

Even if I may never do another triathlon, I am so proud that I participated this weekend. What an accomplishment for any person, but especially for those facing disease and loss. We all carried the reality of those burdens on this race with us and overcame them to cross the finish line.

Bravo!

Now what?!

The night before I left NY, I stopped by Nightbird's to say goodbye. I was obviously feeling quite a mix of emotions but mostly I was just sad. Sad that I was too scared to face the big city by myself. Sad that I had to leave my NY family and friends. Sad that I was letting my Ex have a city for which he really never had an appreciation. I always saw the City's beauty beneath, even if my judgment was clouded by a negativity I couldn't pinpoint. I learned to accept that with the good you will have to have the bad. Sadness filled me in ways I couldn't put into words and a certain fear was its company. For the first time in a very long long time, I was facing this world alone. And by that I mean, I was imagining a future of my own making. No more "WE", it was now, "I". It was both freeing and frightening at the same time.

As so I said goodbye to my beautiful friend, she handed me a few parting gifts: three books - two by Shakti Gawain about creative visualization. I had made many efforts in those first couple weeks after the breakup to read - to distract myself by delving into a book. The efforts were fruitless; I couldn't focus on one word of anything I read. In fact, it wasn't until a few weeks ago that I was able to crack a book open and comprehend what I was reading. So today I delved further into one of those books that Nightbird gave me: "Creative Visualization." I came upon the following passage and knew instantly why my friend had used the metaphor of a river to decribe life:

"Let us imagine that life is a river. Most people are clinging to the bank, afraid to let go and risk being carried along by the current of the river. At some point, each person must be willing to just let go and trust the river to carry him or her along to safety. At this point, he learns to "go with the flow" and it feels wonderful."

The whole chapter was about letting go and trusting that life will do what it must. No manipulations. Just to stop doing and allowing oneself to just be. I reread this chapter a few times. Yes...it all made fantastic sense but how could I just let go?

I started by letting go of any pride. I am both sad and excited that I own nothing but my kitty, who really isn't an object and is in fact an adorable, reliable, loving companion who freqently makes me laugh. I am both at zero and abundant in possibilities. I never asked for this situation directly but I am so thankful it is upon me. I don't know where I'm going and right now, I just have to learn to be patient with my life's river. It is taking its time winding down the way, allowing me time to heal and yet I'm still slowly but surely moving forward. I have to let go and allow life to carry me because the ground I was attached to - the shore I was holding onto so tightly - slipped from my grips and even though I thought that was where I wanted to be, now I'm so glad it released me because I feel my journey is only getting more interesting and fulfilling.

There is something more to life than what I've experienced. I'm so curious and interested and so very excited about the people I'll meet and the places I'll experience. My life is clearly abundant in ways i never thought possible. It's so fabulous that I'm now able to see the clouds clearing.

Life's too short to remain heartbroken. It's done. Now what?

May I help you?

The second night of my training as a server, I walked out of the restaurant in tears. Noone saw. It wasn't anyone's fault, necessarily. I just left feeling exhausted and perhaps that's where the tears initally came from. I had forgotten how much you have to know and remember when you are serving tables. Yes, it's coming back to me now like riding a bicycle but that first day, following a coworker around but not necessarily being able to do anything because I wasn't trained on anything...that felt like crap. And in the car on the way home, I blamed my Ex. It was easy: he left me to have to make the decision to leave NY, forcing me to find a new job and above all, he ripped my dreams with him to shreads. I hated him more than I had before that moment.

But then I got to train with Mr.CutiePaTutie. For 12 hours. I'm not sure why I was put with him because I did not request it. After our initial meeting when I saw hearts and diamonds, he was very standoffish with me. I'm not sure why. So I wasn't exactly excited about following him around nor was I excited about making a fool out of myself in front of him. Like forgetting to put an order in the system. Or spilling creamer all down the front of me. Or having to recite the chef's special and totally f'ing it up. I'm positive I turned a few shades of red many times. The beauty of training with him was, however, how much fun we actually had together. We bantered like pals and made sexual inuendos. It was like working with a buddy.

I got to spend 12 long hours getting to know him as a person and on a friend/coworker level and I realized how imperfect he was but how I could see right through the act he put on and see the faboulous guy I met that first night, with all of his faults. And boy does he have faults! He made mistakes like crazy the whole way through (maybe I made him nervous?) and the more he made mistakes the more comfortable and at ease I felt with him. He has a temper not too dissimilar to mine. I saw him get indignant and angry, cursing in French, and it made me smile. He relaxed and I relaxed and we had fun. I left wondering when I'd see him again and excited about going back and getting back into my new job.

In the end, it all clicked. I realized that I do enjoy working with this type of crowd more so than with the office politics of my other jobs. In a restaurant, behind the scenes, there is a culture of saying what you feel and mean in the most uncensored ways, forgiving mistakes and letting go of grudges. There is a lot of touching and ass grabbing and yelling. I found myself joking around with my boss on a level of respect but also as a pal. I look forward to working with these people and even if it's going to be difficult and I'll likely not make any money at first, this experience will give me what I was hoping it would: a distraction and a way to learn to live in the present.

Above all, it's nice to have a crush because it shows me how resiliant my heart can be. It's just a crush, after all. I'm able to focus on my healing and my life but I'm also able to laugh and enjoy myself. After my heart's ass was kicked, I felt I would never be able to see a man as something other than a piece of meat. Now I know that even if I want them at a distance, I can have friendships with men. They aren't ALL bad... And now I realize that my Ex is happily my Ex - my former life- and even if my past isn't that distant yet, I feel it shrinking behind me and my view turning to enjoy the scenery just in front of me. In the distance there are new challenges and dreams...and countries to be visited...but right now, I'm present to my life. And it's turning out to be a pretty nice day.

New habits

It's interesting how we cultivate new habits and let go of old, useless ones. As I stood there at the hostess stand at my new job, learning a new routine and seeing all of these new faces, I realized how easy it is to settle into a routine. I was training as a hostess and the girl training me had a nasty hangover from a recent trip to Las Vegas. She did her tasks as if blindfolded, not grasping that it was the first time I was seeing it.

I watched as all the servers completed the daily tasks, preparing for dinner: cleaning the wine glasses, cutting the butter, polishing the silverwear, sweeping...etc. I've been there, and I imagined that they weren't even present or mindful of what they were doing - likely thinking about something other than those tasks. But I sat there taking it all in. It would soon be my daily routine. It is a familiar place but with brand new faces. This new routine was upon me and even though I swore off serving tables, I have to admit that I was excited about doing it again.

It occurs to me when I least expect it that my life has changed dramatically in a short amount of time. I can feel my system still adjusting to this new environment, these new sounds, views..lifestyles. Three weeks ago I was working with investment bankers and living in the big city and today I was sharing space with cute servers and french bread. It really never ceases to amaze me how quickly your life can change. Our daily, life habits are formed without us even realizing it, really. It could be the time you take lunch or the kiss you give your loved one as you walk out the door in the morning and the way you greet them as you come together at the end of your day. These things - these stupid, minute gestures are the habits that I abruptly had to eliminate from my daily routine - and they are what I miss the most. I liked knowning that he was there - calling me, dining with me, being there just watching a show. I never minded being alone then.

Now, I feel the lonliness more. I want to go camping, eat dinner out, see a movie - and it occurs to me how much adjustment I still need to make to this new lifestyle. And even if I know my way around this place, I still feel like a foreigner. Each day I wonder when I'll leave again.

Occasionally I think back to my daily life in NY and I know that my life was becoming routine and quite frankly, I'm now thankful all this was a shocking change because it woke me up. Now I look back and I am that much more aware of how unhappy with my old life I actually was. I remember thinking, "is this the last man I'll ever kiss?"

Anais Nin wrote, "You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe that you are living. Then you read a book, or you take a trip, and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symtoms of hibernating are eaily detective: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangeriuos and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. The picnic with their families. They raise children. Then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death."

For me, routine does not mean stability. All that I'm doing is new - even if the setting is familiar. I'm relearning self-reliance and rediscovering that I was a woman who was interested in so many, many things. I used to be adventurous. I used to break rules...make up my own. I used to be really, almost annoyingly independent. Now I'm a woman that second-guesses every choice she makes. I am a woman who is reteaching herself to love and accept herself. I am slowly yet insistantly finding my way back into this body of mine and I can tell that each day I'm alone, however lonely it can be, I grow stronger.

I will likely develop new habits because I know that, as humans, we are destined to be creatures of habit in some regards. However, I am thankful that this new job , however difficult it might be for me to relearn the ways of the service industry (because contrary to what people think, it does take talent and intelligence), I really do think it will teach me to live in the present and will offer me a break from my constant desire to decide what I want to be when I grow up.

Bon appetite, everyone!

Transformational Sadness

I deleted my last post because it was just plain pathetic. While I still feel somewhat pathetic for a myriad of reasons, I read back through it and the tough love email from my sis this morning and thought, "why am I still feeling this way?" It's because every time I start to feel sorry for myself and that pit in my stomach comes back, I want to write to get it out of me. I feel like the more I write it the less time it spends in me. But it's a huge disservice to my healing because I'm pushing it out instead of being a witness to it...seeing it and saying, "yep, that's what it is. That's sadness and grief." And watching it float around and allowing it to find it's way out of me instead. Instead, I see it, I let it infect my energy, my heart, my head...and instead of just being present to the fact that it's there still and dealing with it, I let it eat me.

This road I'm walking is a curious one. I'm not alone but I feel so alone. I want to find myself again - that woman that didn't need anyone to tell her that she'll be fine. The woman that didn't allow anyone to dictate how she felt about herself. The woman that knew herself. I will find her again and I will be happier. I feel like my life is going in the direction that it needs to and I am prepared to not have any expectations about it. I struggle with that on a daily basis...holding myself to high expectations - where am I going? Who will I end up being? What will I do with this one fabulous life and the chances I'm given? Will I say, "what's the worst that can happen?" Am I strong enough to fail and still get back up?

"Yoga Journal" magazine had an article that I just happened to open to last night that discussed "transformational sadness." It talked about using your heartbreak or loss and the sadness that inevitably comes with both of those as a way to open your heart even more. The author even went as far as to say that sadness can feel an awful lot like love. So I sat on my bed last night and tried to meditate, to really see the source of my sadness, to be a witness to it and to allow it to open my heart more to allow my level of compassion and love for the world to really grow. Of course, I was distracted - as meditation does not come easy to me - but I will continue to try. My sadness has transformed me and I refuse...REFUSE to let it transform me into a scared, pathetic woman who only looks inward.

You're right sis, it is time to buck up and move forward. I am walking this path as a new woman and I have an opportunity to grow from it.

Thanks for reminding me to count my blessings and live in the present.