We returned late last night from our 3rd annual ski trip. I love the sound of that. Not so much the “ski trip,” although I find that pretty amazing since I always saw that as something other people do, but the “our 3rd annual.” One of the most healing aspects in a second life is the establishment of new traditions.
The trip this year was all about perspective. When we arrived at the slopes, we first queued at the lift for the easiest slope on the property. This probably doesn’t even qualify as a bunny slope. Maybe a sleeping fetal rabbit would be more apt. Even with its simplicity and straightforward terrain, this run used to give me quite the challenge.
But this time, I traversed the slippery slopes with no falls and no difficulties. At one point on the slope I wondered where the hill was that I used to take twenty minutes to summon my courage to attempt. I was shocked to discover that it was behind me, a mere blip on the snowy hill.
It doesn’t get easier. You get stronger.
From there, Brock and I skipped the other beginner slopes and made it to the easiest intermediate run (which I have only completed once as my last run the previous year). Even though I knew that this steeper hill tests my abilities, I was calm on the way up. And even though I fell several times on the way down, I stayed calm.
I thought back to my first trip, where a single, short run could take me almost an hour as I panicked and bailed or had to stop to quiet my screaming mind.
“I can’t believe how patient you were with me my first year,” I said to Brock, remembering how he stayed by my side at the base of the mountain, sacrificing his own fun. “It’s to your credit that I can do this as well as I can now.” I realized in a moment of clarity that every other skier I had met on my trips that possessed the same level of fear as I did had given up after their first day.
Sometimes we need people to believe in us when we are not yet ready to believe in ourselves.
Our lodging on this trip was at the top of the mountain, providing me with a view of the upper slopes, that are normally well out of my reach. It was funny, I strode into that room the first night feeling confident about my first day back on skis. And then, braving the howling wind on the balcony to get a better look at the mountain in its entirety, I saw that my “big run” was only a small, seemingly flat section at the bottom of the slope. It was humbling. And motivating.
Take the time to step back and see where you can improve. Life is growth. Keep reaching.
On our second night, after a friend joined us, I tried night skiing for the first time. It was the most fun I have ever had on the slopes (well, apart for the snow and ice-crusted face!). The dim lights and small crowds made for a freeing feeling. There was nothing to think about other than the ride.
Sometimes it’s best to dim the lights on what surrounds you so that you can only focus on what is right in front of you.
At midnight on New Year’s Eve, we watched the fireworks explode over the slopes with champagne in our hands, closing out one year and welcoming the next.
And 2015, like every year, will have good and bad. As always, I will strive to appreciate the former and learn from the latter.
After my nap-a-thon that is:)
May your 2015 be filled with moments that bring you wonder, occasions to build your strength, and opportunities to gain perspective.
Lisa
I’ve never been much of a fan of resolutions. Perhaps it’s because I see the bodies flock to the gym every January only to be back on their respective couches by Valentine’s Day. Or I see the impassioned declarations about eating clean shared publicly on Facebook and I spy a doughnut in the poster’s hand before the month is out. I get it. Change is hard. And in order for change to occur, you have to be ready. And that may not correspond neatly with the dawning of the new year.
Which is why I like to offer up a little twist on the traditional resolutions.
Here is my offering from last year: Celebration, Enhancement, Intention.
This year is a little different. This year I propose a challenge. To be completed by December 31, 2015. And, yes, I will be holding you accountable.
Nervous yet?
Don’t be.
Here it is – over the year, I want you to prove yourself wrong.
That’s it.
No calories to count or reps to complete (unless of course, that’s how you’re proving yourself wrong).
All you have to do is find one belief you currently hold and change your mind about it.
Confused? I’ll give you some ideas:
-Start by thinking of the things you say you “can’t” do. Pick one and do it.
-Examine your thoughts for traces of “always” or “never;” those words usually indicate an underlying stereotype or assumption. Find a counterexample.
-Sift through your responses to people and claims. Look for those topics that make you defensive. That’s a sign that you think you can’t handle some truth. Prove that you can.
It’s so easy to operate within a prison of possibilities built by our own limiting thoughts.
This is your year to break through.
Prove yourself wrong.
Remember, I’ll be checking up on you:)
Every January, I enjoy looking back at some of the search terms that lead to my blog. Some are obvious (“marriage ended”) and some make me question humanity (“how do I get away with bigamy?”), but many simply make me chuckle. Here’s a collection of some of the funnier search terms from this past year along with the link to the piece they found:
“Bon Jovi stalker” I never quite reached stalker status, but I did secure a rubbing from his name carved into the Alamo.
“Happy birthday to my car” Apparently lots of people like to wish their cars happy birthday. Mine will celebrate its sweet 16 this year. Maybe then it can drive itself:)
“My wife is lame” Do you mean she has a limp?
“I’m a lame duck husband” Maybe you should meet the woman referenced above.
“Heart beans” What does this mean? Will somebody please tell me????
“I am an introvert that wants to be real assassin” And apparently a real felon too. I’m not sure how much introversion has to do with wanting to take people out.
“The end!!!!!!!!” Lots of people find me by looking for information about endings. No one else has been this excited though.
“The grass is always greener on the other side except over the sceptic tank meaning in marriage” Ummm…. No comment.
“Commit bigamy” Why do I read this as though it is a command?
“Spilled coffee in my Acura navi buttons” And then you ended up wasting valuable clean-up time reading about divorce. I’m sorry.
“Clean up Aisle 21!” Somehow I think this was meant to be read into a microphone rather than typed into the computer.
“Shaved monkey” Very carefully. They bite.
“Gerard Poujardieu” Yeah. I miss him too.
“What is the soulmate switch?” No idea. If you find out, please let me know.
“Eau de Sasquatch” Eau all right. I hope this wasn’t a gift for somebody.
“A bone to chew with you” Why do I feel like I need to apologize?
“Chutes and Ladders for financial advice” Generally I would recommend a financial advisor rather than Hasbro, but to each his own.
“All terrain pug” It makes me smile to think there could be another one out there.
Want to read my advice to the great searchers of 2013? You can!
Brock and I watched the movie Gravity several months ago.
Unusually for me, it gave me nightmares. Recurring nightmares.
Several times a month, I would wake up after dreaming of myself in Sandra Bullock’s position – untethered, floating freely through space. Although my body was safely on the bed, my heart would be racing as though I was in mortal danger and it took several minutes for my brain to accept the idea that I was not alone and unmoored.
And that’s really the root of the nightmare, isn’t it?
My fears have nothing at all to do with being lost in space and everything to do with being lost in life.
In those early days, I struggled to find the words to explain how I was feeling. Nothing seemed strong enough. Encompassing enough. But one word kept floating to the surface.
Unmoored.
With the receipt of that text, my ties to most everything in my life had been severed. Those things that defined me, anchored me, were gone and I felt like I was floating uncontrollably away from myself. It was a panicky helpless feeling as my attempts to get back to myself seemed to occur in the dead space of a vacuum. I felt detached with a limited life support system and my oxygen quickly running out.
And in so many ways, that feeling of being unmoored was the scariest of all of the post-divorce emotions.
Because you have to fully let go of what you know in order to grasp on to your future.
I wasn’t free-floating for long. I started to feel anchored once my clothes were placed in the dresser in my friend’s spare bedroom, where I would spend the next year. Another tie came when my mom purchased a gym membership for me and that facility became my home away from my-home-for-a-year. School started up again and even though it was a stressful year due to administration, if felt reassuring to be back in the classroom, even as I answered to a name I no longer identified with. Yoga reconnected body and mind and I learned how to breathe again on a soft carpet on a therapist’s floor. Pen went to paper, and I started to explore the emotions that were within, the anger especially giving me purpose.
I realized only recently that some of the unmoored feeling persisted for quite some time. It was only this past spring, when I tucked plants into the soil in my yard (in an area that feels like home) with a ring again on my finger that I realized I felt anchored again. Not settled, but relaxed into where I want to be with anchors of my choosing.
After divorce, some people find they enjoy the freedom that comes from being unmoored; they design their new life with minimal ties and restraints to allow maximum flexibility. Others crave the feeling that comes from multiple ties to people and places, giving a sense of security and belonging.
Being unmoored alters you. It helps to build your confidence in your ability to survive. It carries a freedom that may frighten or awaken. It confirms who your true friends are and alerts you to the ones that need to be jettisoned. It whispers truths about you and your desires, uncluttered by the wishes of your ex. It’s a moment in time. A flash of clarity with clutter removed.
Because in free fall, you have no limits.
Related: Take Me to the Other Side
Only possibility.
Lessons From the End of a Marriage 