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(In)closure

Posted on February 23, 2012October 18, 2013 by stilllearning2b

When my husband first left me with a text message, I was outraged. I felt impotent, my voice stolen from me just when I had so much to say to him. How could he leave me and give me no answers? How could he disappear and not let me talk? For months, I sought solace in the thought that I would be able to take the stand in the felony bigamy trial against him and again in the civil divorce case. I held tight to the thought that he would have to face me then. Then I would have my say. Then I could have closure.

As events unfolded, I learned the bigamy would be settled with a diversion and no trial would be forthcoming. The divorce ended much the same way; I saw him, but was not allowed to speak to him.

So, there I was. Eight months had passed since the fateful day. The two opportunities I saw for closure had come and gone. I was at a crossroads; I could either come to terms with never having closure, or I could seek closure within myself. I chose the latter.

The problem was, even though I had committed to a path, I had no idea how to move forward. I thought about what would need to be true for me to not be stuck in the past, mired in the muck created by the whole experience. First, I realized that I would need to find a way to reframe the experience in a positive light. That naturally paired with the wellness journey that I was on and that I help to guide others along as well. I would need to have a clear picture of who I was in the marriage and what I could learn from going forward. I knew that I would need to take back my voice, not to talk to him, but to share my story in a way that could help others. Finally, and most importantly, I realized I needed to soften towards him, replacing some of the anger with compassion. That last part was the hardest (and sometimes still is).

As I worked on these goals, I found that I began to develop a peace about what happened. It gave me ownership and took me out of victimhood. It shifted the power to me and I no longer needed him to find closure and move forward. I found closure within.

Let Your Pain Be Your Teacher

Posted on February 23, 2012 by stilllearning2b

Pain is inescapable and inevitable, but it does not have to become a way of being. Recognize the pain, embrace it even, and see what it can teach you. Much as physical pain is often our body’s way of alerting us that something is wrong and needs addressing, emotional pain is the mind’s way of letting you know that there are shifts to be made. Your pain does not have to be your torturer; it can be your teacher.

Let Your Pain Be Your Teacher.

The Beauty of an Early Spring Garden is in the Details

Posted on February 23, 2012February 24, 2012 by stilllearning2b

At first glance, the early spring garden is barren. There are few leaves, few flowers, no raucous plants fighting for attention. It is a different garden.

The beauty of an early spring garden is in the details, subtle interplay of color and texture, and the bright green of new growth tentatively poking its head though the soil. In order to see the beauty, the quiet spectacle that is the wakening garden, one must be patient and in tune with the rhythm of life.

The first frost of the fall that causes the leaves and blooms to wither and die, providing the fuel for the next season’s growth. When the garden in dormant to the naked eye, the most important work is going on beneath the surface, working the soil so that it can nurture and sustain life.

Look to the ground to see the life just below the surface, shy at first. Testing. But soon, as the shoot begin to trust in the warmth of the sun again, they will burst forth, ready to declare their presence.

The early spring of a divorce is much the same as in a garden. Look beyond the bare branches, look to the details and you will see its beauty beneath the loss. The beauty in the possibilities, the promise, the unknown. Celebrate each new sign of life. Focus on the growth that is visible and that which lies just beneath the surface. Dig your hands deep into your soil and fill it full of enrichment. Till your sorrows under so that they provide fuel for your new growth. Allow yourself to trust in the sun again, feel its warmth.

The early spring is fleeting, but it cannot be rushed. No season is permanent. Life moves on when ready, but in the meantime, look to the details to see the beauty and let yourself bloom when ready.