Extraneous Solutions

Posted on by stilllearning2b

When we lived in our rental house, I used to spend a significant amount of time on the weekends writing at the Starbucks down the street. I would settle in to a seat, latte on the left, notepad on the right and laptop at center stage. I had an office space at the house complete with a door that sort-of closed and a desk by a window. But, for some reason, the space never felt welcoming. Perhaps because I knew it was a temporary home, a not-so-brief stop on the way to establishing roots. Or maybe there really is something to the energy of a house being “off.” The woman that cleans for us once a month said about the rental, “No matter how much I clean, it always looks dirty.” She’s right.

Regardless of the reasons, I didn’t feel welcomed by the space. It felt almost like sitting a middle school lunch table with a group that is giving you the cold shoulder.

So I chose to sit somewhere else.

We’ve now been in the new place for seven months. My office set-up is very similar. And yet the energy is completely different. The room calls to me, invites me in with open arms. For the past seven months,  I have not carried my laptop to the coffee shop. Even after being snowed in for a week, I still wanted to be in my space.

The coffee shop is now unneeded.  An extraneous solution.

And so I let it go.

I uncovered another extraneous solution recently as well. In my old life, I had a garden that nurtured my soul as I tended its blooms. When I had to walk away, I mourned the loss of my plants. I missed my daily walks to talk to them and tend to them. My soul felt like the hole left when a root ball is yanked from the soil.

So I found a solution. I purchased an annual pass to the botanical gardens and replaced my daily walks in my own garden with weekly walks within the public space. And even though I was not the one to nurture them, the plants were kind enough to nurture me.

Yesterday, I received my annual renewal notice for the gardens. And I realized that I have been a stranger to them, that I have not visited in many months. I now have my own yard, not yet a garden but a still a space with possibility. And I would rather spend my time tending to it than on regular visits to the public space.

The membership renewal went into the garbage. It has become extraneous.

 

Life is always in flux. The needs of today may not be the needs of tomorrow. It’s all too easy to allow extraneous solutions to clutter our lives. To keep doing something because we’ve done something. But that answer may no longer fit your current circumstances. Make the effort to find the solutions that address your current problems, not the problems of your past. Make sure that your time, money and energy is going towards the needs of now rather than the problems of yesterday.

If there is a need, fill it. If it’s extraneous, eliminate it.

Sprained

Posted on by stilllearning2b

If I ever hear one more person say, “Just get over it,” I am going to scream.

Loudly.

I’m warning you now so that you have time to buy earplugs.

I have a little story, an analogy (I know, shocking!), to help the getoverers understand why there are some things you don’t just simply get over. Feel free to share this with anyone who tells you to get over it. And then scream if needed.

Fifteen years ago, during my first winter in Atlanta, I slipped on ice while taking the garbage out to the apartment dumpster and sprained my ankle in the process. Since I’m a Type A personality, it was a Type A sprain, bad enough that the physical therapist I worked for at the time added me to the therapy rotation. Rehab was pretty intense for the first few months. For the next year or so, the injury was always on my mind due to chronic pain and instability. I wore a brace of some sort for most of that time.

As time went by, the injury became less apparent and the brace went into a drawer. But the injury is still there. Every time I take a balance pose in yoga on that side, I have to focus to keep the ankle from collapsing. Whenever my mileage increases with running, I develop biomechanical issues on that side because my hip has to compensate for the wobblyness of the ankle. And, the worst part, is that my ankle is prone to further injury. It’s as though it carries a memory of the trauma in the soft tissue and becomes damaged again with only minor assault.

I haven’t let my ankle slow me down. I wear high heels. I run marathons. I master balance poses in yoga. The vast majority of people in my life don’t even know that the whispers of an old injury lie beneath the scarless skin.

But even though I can still live a full life, I can’t simply get over the injury and pretend it never happened. It’s there. A part of me. I don’t have to give in to it yet I also have to accept that it exists and that it occasionally needs attention or support. The structure of that ankle has been changed. Permanently.

But even though I still limp sometimes, I can still kick ass. And that’s even better than simply getting over it.

Because it shows that I can take a licking and keep on ticking.

It shows that I refuse to turn my traumas into liabilities and limitations.

It shows that accepting weakness is a part of strength.

It shows that even though there are some things you don’t just get over, you don’t have to let them hold you back.

Here are the lessons I’ve learned from my ankle (who’s currently sobbing after a spill on a wet kitchen floor last week) and how they apply to “getting over” divorce:

Rehabilitation  The early and intensive rehabilitation on the ankle was critical and I am so thankful that I had the assistance of an expert. If those interventions had not occurred, it would have been a much slower healing process. In divorce, don’t be too shy or proud to call in the professionals in the beginning. Make taking care of yourself your job. It will pay dividends in the future.

Support At the beginning, my ankle was too weak to go unsupported. If I tried to walk without a brace, it would fold over and re-injure the damaged tissue. Yet I couldn’t cast it forever or it would never grow strong enough to stand on its own. It’s okay to wrap yourself in protective bandages after divorce yet make sure you remove them when ready. Struggle is what makes you strong.

Adaptation Once I realized that my ankle would always be weaker, I worked to strengthen the surrounding muscles. I learned what kind of shoes aggravated the injury and I avoided them. I became more aware of activities that were risky for re-injury and I added support or used caution. After divorce, your circumstances will change. Change with them.

Acceptance I could spend my days cursing my injured ankle. But honestly? I don’t even really think about it. It just is. It doesn’t stop me yet it also doesn’t allow itself to be ignored. But now addressing its needs is second nature. And that’s how divorce is too. It’s there. It doesn’t have to stop you yet it also will need attention at times. And that’s okay.   So next time somebody tells you to just get over it, tell them a little story about the little ankle that could. And then show them that you can still kick ass.

Rock Paper Scissors

Posted on by stilllearning2b

During much of my divorce, I felt like I was playing Rock Paper Scissors against a much more skilled opponent. Whenever I would pull out the scissors, out would come the rock, crushing my hopes and my progress. So I would retire the pointed attack, opting for the pliability of paper, only to face the cutting attack of the blade. Frustration and fear would win out and I’d pull out my own boulder, determined to obliterate the pain and confusion of the split. Often only to find myself defeated again, the paper obscuring the view of the object of my anger. Click here to read the rest.

Resistance is Futile

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Resistance is futile.

So why do I grip in my hamstrings as I bend to touch my toes?

Resistance is futile.

So why do I kick up excuses at well-aimed suggestions?

Resistance is futile.

So why do I struggle against change?

 

Perhaps because resistance is human.

 

We assume that everything will be a struggle and so we prepare to fight.

We want to maintain the status quo rather than face the fear of the unknown so we put up opposition.

We strive to hold on to what we have even when we would better to let go.

 

Resistance may be futile, but we have raised that futility to an art form.

 

And recently, I’ve deserved gallery space to highlight my performance art of resistance.

Rather than accept the nature of a middle school preparing for the spring testing season, I’ve been struggling against it. Wasting energy wishing it was different and bemoaning the state it’s in. The reality is that it is not going to change. I can look back at my March posts from the previous two years and see the same struggle. Yet, if I choose not to resist, if I go with the flow of March and April, May will come at the same pace as it would if I railed against the reality. And I would probably be in a better place to greet it.

Rather than accept the overwhelming nature of learning a new career (the one I just passed a test and obtained licensure for), I’ve been struggling against the natural learning curve. I’m dependent upon others for training and I’m letting myself grow frustrated when it can’t happen on my timeline. But that frustration doesn’t change anything other than my attitude.

But wait, it gets better.

Rather than accept the weather of the day, I’ve been resisting the remnants of winter and exiting my hibernation prematurely. I’ve been spotted wearing open toed shoes and sleeveless tops. While silently complaining about the weather.

Rather than allowing myself my much-needed cognitive cool-down in the evenings, I’ve been working up until I head to bed. The result? My body tries to sleep while my brain resists, generating ideas and solving problems that interrupt my sleep.

Rather than recognizing my computer’s slowing as a sign to restart, I soldier on while pages take eons to load and applications crash.

 

Wow. It all seems so silly when I write it down. I’ve basically been shadow boxing. Against myself. Resisting for the sake of resistance.

But resistance is futile.

Even if I put down my gloves, May will come, I will learn my new trade and the weather will warm.

Last night, I gave myself the gift of a rebooted computer (who is now loading happily) and an evening without thought of work or writing.

And I feel much better after giving up the struggle.

 

There are certainly times in life where you have to fight. But those are fewer and farther between than we usually realize. Take the time to look at the struggle in your life and eliminate the battles that are against yourself. Save your energy for the real fights.

 

Divorce Tool Box

Posted on by stilllearning2b

In my second year of college, I took a psychology of grief class. I signed up because I needed another psych credit but also to help me understand my own experiences at that point with grief and loss. One of the first images in the textbook was the Holmes-Rahe Stress Inventory, a scale that quantifies stressful life events with a score of 1-100. I was no stranger to the instrument; my counselor mom had dozens of copies (and versions) in the books that were scattered about the house. But that day, perhaps bored with the dry lecture, I looked at the scale differently. I wondered what experiences listed on the page I would have. I feared the big one, the 100 point Death of a Spouse. In my mind, that was the only item on the list that would destroy me. The others seemed inconceivable or inconsequential.

A brief note here – Some versions of the scale include death of a child, obviously near the top. This particular one did not, a question I raised with my professor on that day.

I noted that divorce was listed as second only to death of a spouse with a score of 73. That didn’t make sense to me. Perhaps because I thought it would never happen to me (I was three years in to the relationship with my now ex husband at that point and I could not fathom one or both of us choosing to end it), but I just couldn’t understand what could be so devastating about divorce.

I guess the universe wanted to show me I was wrong.

Using the scale that was in my textbook that day, I faced:

73 divorce

53 personal illness

44 major behavior change in spouse

39 new family members

38 financial hardship

30 foreclosure

29 in-law problems

29 change in habits

25 housing change

19 change in recreation

16 change in sleep

15 change in eating

15 change in family get togethers

For a grand total of 425 points. The sirens start to go off at 300 points. And, if you add infidelity, most scales place that around an 81, which would raise my total to a lofty 506. I probably should have been escorted into a padded room at that point. I would also add a few more points for a tsunami divorce, which is somewhere between a death and a divorce. I looked, they haven’t studied the impact of bigamy. I hope that they never need to.

What the scale in my textbook didn’t make clear is that there is no life stone unturned when it comes to divorce. It. changes. everything.

And change, especially unwanted and unexpected change, is stressful.

If there’s ever a time in life when you have to use everything you have at your disposal, it’s divorce.

You can inventory your stress and tally up your debits but you can also inventory your personal tool box and count up your implements of healing.

Here’s what I had in my Divorce Tool Box. Maybe yours looks a little different.

The Extra Battery – Fortitude

There’s no way around it. Divorce is draining. It goes on and on. And on. Just when you think the struggle is over, something will pop up and make you go again. A huge part of getting through is simply getting through, having the ability to persist even when the path is tough. So, pack an extra battery. Hell, pack two:)

The Hammer – Determination

It’s easy to fall apart in divorce. You feel beat down and the instinct may be to roll over and play dead. There is certainly time for acceptance, but there is also time for determination. If you want a better life, you have to build it. Pick up that hammer and make it happen. Just look out for your thumb!

The Tape Measure – Attention

There are a ton of details in divorce. Personally, I think everyone who has experiences it should qualify as a paralegal. There will be times when you have to push the grief and anger aside, pull out the tape measure and pay attention to every detail in every document. Remember, measure twice, cut once. Make sure you know what you’re signing.

The Level – Balance

It’s easy for the divorce to overwhelm your life until it becomes your entire life. Needless to say, that’s not healthy (or much fun). The level in your tool box is to remind you to find balance. Or to check to see if that picture you hung where the wedding photo once was is level:)

The Spackle – Humility

You’ll screw up. You’ll create a hole where there wasn’t supposed to be one. You’l inadvertently bang up someone else as you try to aim at your ex. When you reach for the spackle, you admit that you made a mistake and show that you’re trying to repair it. If you can, buy the spackle that starts pink and dries white. That way you know when your mistakes are corrected:)

The Business Card – Assistance

You can’t do it all. When you’re overwhelmed or stuck, reach for that business card with the name and number of an expert. Call them. And then listen to them. Don’t let your ego get in the way of your healing.

The Liquid Nails – Confidence

You will have to make some big decisions. Do it with confidence. Pull out the permanent adhesive and believe in your decision. Deep down, you know what’s best for you. Make it stick.

The Saw – Humor

When it all starts to overwhelm, reach for the saw and cut it down to size. There’s nothing like a little laughter to put everything into perspective.

That’s my tool box. What’s in yours?