Ownership
Go Ahead, Ask Me Anything
I have a reader that recently introduced me to Reddit. He encouraged me to look at and possibly participate in the Ask Me Anything (AMA) forum or the I Am A… (IAmA) forum. I was intrigued enough to sign for a Reddit account and check out the two forums he suggested.
And, wow. What an interesting platform. I love the dialog that can develop and the amount of interaction. I like that people ask (and answer) the tough questions.
But it scares me. Not because of rude folks hiding behind their avatars (I slayed enough trolls on Huffington Post back in the day!) or the idea of potentially difficult questions.
But because the Reddit etiquette (Reddiquette?) frankly scares the hell out of me. I mean, it’s worse than trying to figure out what fork to use. Really. And I’m afraid if I screw it up, the Redditors will be coming after me with forks. Pitchforks.
So, in honor of Reddit, I’m hosting my own Ask Me Anything here. I mean it. Anything. I’ll answer. And, please feel free to respond to other’s questions or answers as well.
And for the record, I don’t care what fork you use. But let’s leave the pitchforks at home:)
Meet Where You Are
This post originally appeared on the site Eat live life, which is dedicated to empowering people with knowledge so that they can maximize their own wellness. Check out the site; there’s some great information for everyone!
Meet Where You Are
When I walked into my first yoga class after my divorce, I had no idea what I was about to encounter. I signed up simply looking for some relief for my tense muscles and maybe some balm for my anxious mind. I had hopes of the class providing structure for my unraveling life and maybe even a dash of eye candy thrown in as a bonus. What I found instead was wisdom that really had nothing to do with yoga.
Upon signing in, I warned the instructor that I was a runner and about as supple as a lead pipe. I didn’t mention the recent divorce, but the fact that my shoulders had taken up permanent residence by my ears hinted to some sort of life stress. The teacher laughed, and said, “You’ll need these then,” as she handed me two dense foam blocks. “In yoga, you meet the body where it is.”
I smiled politely back at her after uttering a “Thanks,” having no idea what she meant by her declaration; it sounded more like new age mumbo jumbo than anything that would actually help. After all, even those this was my first bona fide class, I had been down dogging from DVDs (or even VHS) for years and, as far as I knew, I had never “met” my body.
I was fine through the first few poses; none of them placed any demands on my perpetually shortened hamstrings. As I stood strong in warrior, I started to gain confidence in my body and my strength. That confidence quickly faded as we were instructed to straighten our front leg and fold over towards the floor. I was engaged in a battle of wills with my hamstring and I was determined to win.
I strained my body down as I forced the leg back. Beads of sweat flowed down my face mixed with tears born of frustration. I was accustomed to using my strength to see me through, to lowering my head and fighting through the pain.
Just as I re-intensified my efforts, I felt a gentle hand on my lower back. “In yoga, we meet the body where it is,” the instructor reminded, placing two blocks under my hands. Immediately, my brain stopped sending its panic signals. My hamstrings relaxed and opened as the gripping faded in both mind and body. I started to tease the boundary of discomfort, finding that there was a place where I could push without panic. As my breath flowed back into my body, I realized that I had been holding it.
Not just during the class.
But during the last few months.
I had been approaching my divorce much like I started that yoga class – head strong and patience weak. I hardened in the face of the pain, the situations that caused me to stretch beyond my current abilities. I gripped in both mind and breath and tensed for the next wave of suffering.
In life, we can meet ourselves where we are.
We can accept help.
We can make adjustments.
We can approach change as we’re able, slowly stretching into the discomfort.
We can limit suffering, not by pretending it doesn’t exist, but by letting the breath cushion its impact.
When I walked out of that yoga class that day, my hamstrings were more pliable. But even more importantly, my mind had softened.
What Are You Waiting For?
Have you ever had the flu?
I mean the full-on, full-body type that leaves you shivering and feverish, an aching human husk collapsed beneath the covers. The rising temperature somehow short circuiting your brain until all thoughts are amorphous jello and the mind doesn’t even recognize its own attached body. The kind of illness where all you can do is stay beneath the sweat-stained sheets and wait it out, praying that it will slip out peacefully before it kills its hostage.
In those moments of acute illness, we have no choice; we are a prisoner of the poisons coursing through our bodies. All we can do is wait for the battle to be won before we begin the process of rebuilding strength and vitality.
But not all illnesses are so severe as to be debilitating.
Have you ever had a cold?
The kind that starts with that tell-tale scratch down the back of the throat before it progresses into a log jam in your sinuses. An illness that leaves you feeling depleted and irritated, especially when the cough lingers and refuses to vacate your rattled lungs. The encroaching mucus dampening your thoughts, like a heavy blanket slowing you down.
In those moments of lingering illness, we have a choice. We can back off from life and retreat to the blanket on the sofa, waiting weeks for the symptoms to retreat. Or, we can address the features of the illness with medicines and modalities while we continue to live our lives, even if they are slightly reserved.
The first days and weeks of divorce certainly feel like the flu.
You may well be flattened. Dependent upon others for every care.
Disconnected from your life and from your self.
But divorce is not an acute illness.
It’s a lingering one.
If you wait until you are healed to begin living, you will be wasting many precious days while sitting under the covers.
So, what are you waiting for?
I know you hurt.
But pain does not preclude life.
I know you think about the past.
But the past only steals the present if you let it.
I know you feel the empty ache of loss.
But wallowing in the hole won’t help to fill it.
I know you’re not healed.
But you’re also not contagious and life itself acts as a soothing balm.
So, what are you waiting for?
Get out there and live your life.
Embrace the possibilities and celebrate the successes.
The healing will happen alongside.
Footprints on My Heart
The following was one of the responses to my most recent piece on The Good Men Project about how to love someone who is dealing with issues from past relationships:
“I however chose to heal alone and become complete and empowered before seeking a new love. The newly divorced me and the three years divorced me are two very different people and I choose different men also. My baggage was quite a weight to carry, but has made me stronger and I’m more skilled in moving through my life with it. I dont think I would be as adept had I dove into seeking assistance with it.”
In some respects, I completely agree with her. I was also significantly altered by my divorce and my interests and attractions changed as a result. I also fully support the idea that it is important to address your trauma and that it is necessary to be whole and happy on your own before you’re even ready to contemplate the idea of a new relationship. And, contrary to how she seems to view my situation, I certainly don’t support diving into a new relationship with the goal of being “saved.”
But from there, our opinions diverge.
It is not possible to completely heal alone.
Yes, you can learn how to be okay on your own. You can address any triggers or trauma that intrude upon your single life.
But as soon as a relationship enters the picture, new issues, related to the past, will emerge that were unnoticed while alone.
And you learn and adapt.
And then the relationship moves to another level, requiring additional vulnerability and trust. And again, the past will whisper.
So you learn and adapt again.
Healing is much more about experiences than time. And some of those experiences can only be done with another.
I find that each “first…since” is another trigger potential and another opportunity for healing –
The first time living with a man since my ex.
The first time trusting someone since my ex.
The first time buying a house since my ex.
The first basement-finishing project since my ex.
The first (and last!) time marrying since my ex.
And, soon, the first cruise since my ex (yippee!!!).
None of those are a sign that I am not healed enough to be in a relationship again. They are simply a sign that the past left its footprints on my heart.
And just like steps, they have to be taken one at a time.
Lessons From the End of a Marriage 