Life’s Odometer

I received the text just months shy of our tenth anniversary. The divorce process being what it is, the marriage persisted after the ten year mark. The wedding was never the year we marked, however. We always added six to go back to when we started dating. So, by the time it was over, we had been together for sixteen years. That was half of my life.

Odometer
Odometer (Photo credit: trickhips)

It felt like my life odometer had been abruptly and violently forced back to 000000. It was painful, but it was also frustrating. It felt like those were miles wasted on a pointless journey that was aborted before its intended destination. The consistent rolling of the numbers indicating the length of the relationship felt purposeful. They spoke to where we had been and where we were going to go.

When my boyfriend and I reached the six month mark (an important period that frequently delineates casual dating from more serious partnerships), he commented on how long we had been together. I remember scoffing internally. Six months was nothing. I had been with my ex thirty two times that! I didn’t get it yet.

Then, one year came, again commented upon by my boyfriend. I still didn’t get it. I can be a slow learner at times.

It wasn’t until two years when I finally understood. First, due to the magic of ratios, it was now only 1/8 of the time that I spent with my ex. But, more importantly, I viewed my entire life odometer differently. I had been viewing it as the primary and permanent wheel in the center of my console, quietly ticking away through the journeys of my life. I saw the divorce as an assault on the dial, overriding the system.

Then I realized that life is rarely that linear. Our lives are perhaps better marked with trip odometers that are reset to mark the beginning of a new journey. These parallel journeys should not be quantified; the distance is not what adds to the quality. Rather, each trip should be accepted for what it is with the understanding that the odometer can be reset if needed.

I now don’t worry about sixteen years. I don’t compare times together, creating ever-improving ratios. Now, I just roll down the windows and enjoy the ride 🙂

Spirit

The Past

Are You a Mental Hoarder?

English: Photo of the living room of a compuls...
English: Photo of the living room of a compulsive hoarder (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I saw a promo picture for of those hoarding shows the other day. It showed a woman surrounded by an impossible pile of stuff, trying to look strong, yet you could see the struggle on her face. I did not watch the show, but I gather that she acquired and held onto these items out of fear, that she sees the piles of clothes of objects as some sort of talisman against the evils and discomforts of the world. This may have worked for awhile, but eventually, as the stuff accumulated, so did its power. It now has her trapped, stuck, buried under the weight of that which she refused to let go of.

We see these shows or read these stories and wonder how they let it get so bad. Don’t they realize that the accumulations are smothering them? Don’t they know that many of those items are worthless? Don’t they see the freedom that comes from release. No, they don’t. They are wrapped in a security blanket of stuff that tightens around them like a serpent whispering platitudes into fearful ears.

We see these shows or read these stories and proudly declare that it could never happen to us. We would recognize that slippery slope and halt the accumulation before it grew to epic proportions. What we often fail to realize, however, is that we are guilty of the same behavior within our minds. You may not be surrounded by the tangibles of your past, but can you say the same for your thoughts? Do you let old hurts and pains clutter your mind? Are you buried under the weight of days gone by? Do you hold on to these memories and thinking patterns because you are afraid to let them go?

If you realize that outdated thoughts are cluttering your mind, read my post on Taking Out the Mental Trash to learn how you can begin to release the unneeded clutter so that you can breathe again without the weight of the past holding you down.

Dangerous Cargo

A Surprising Change in Airport Security Policy
A Surprising Change in Airport Security Policy (Photo credit: Milo Winningham)

 

 

 

From the book, Lessons From the End of a Marriage:

 

Summer 2010

A year passed. Anniversaries knocked against my still-fragile mind like branches against an unsheltered window in a storm. Three hundred and sixty-six days after I lost my husband, I again stood in front of the security line at Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson airport. One year ago, I stood ensconced in my husband’s arms for the last time before I left to reconnect with my father. One year hence, I stood with my new boyfriend, trying not to crumple under the memories as he embraced me before sending me on my way to see my mother’s side of the family. My past, present, and future all collided in front of the TSA poster that advised travelers about carry-on restrictions. I wasn’t worried about the contents of my bag; I was still carrying dangerous cargo in my heart.

 

Tuesday was a huge victory for me. It was the first day since July of 2009 that I passed by the location where I last saw my husband where I not only didn’t relive the scene, but I didn’t even recall it until much later.

 

There is a balance between exposure and avoidance that allows trigger places like this to lose their power in time. It’s not easy – it takes the patience to wait and the strength to face your tormentor. Don’t rush it but also know that it can happen for you as well. The effort and waiting is so worth it because it is such an amazing feeling when you realize that those places cannot hurt you anymore. On Tuesday, I wasn’t worried about passing through security; I had already released the dangerous cargo.

The trip relates to some exciting news about this blog. More information to come soon! 🙂