I’ve never been one for resolutions. They always seemed punitive to me – starting with the belief that you’ve been “bad” and need to be “good.” They are usually black and white, leaving little room for adjustment. Most people give up on their resolutions within weeks. I merely need to count the heads in the gym every January to see this in action. People start out with the loftiest goals and, when they fail to meet them, they often internalize the failure, leading to the demise of the intention.
All of that is not to say that resolutions are inherently ineffectual. Growth and change is important and should be embraced. And it can be done while embracing your imperfect, human self. Rather than see resolutions as a single question, pass/fail exam, look at it as a process, a cycle. There is no failure, no shame in being less than perfect. Rather, each time you fall short of your intention, is simply a sign to learn and begin again.
Celebration
Take the time to celebrate what you have. Recognize the good in yourself and your life. See what is rather than fixate on what is not. Allow the gratitude to spill over into all areas.
Enhancement
Whatever we nurture, grows. Rather than trying to shore up your weaknesses, start by enhancing your gifts. Begin by building yourself up rather than tearing yourself down. Be creative; often our strengths can be utilized to mitigate our flaws.
Intention
Set your intention. See it, feel it. Believe in it and in yourself. Be forgiving; if you don’t reach your goal, recognize it and try again. It’s okay not to make it on the first shot. Keep trying and you’ll get a little better every time. And when you’re beating up on yourself for falling short, celebrate and begin again.
I wish for all you the happiest of new years. Remember that your past is the teacher that gave you the lessons you need to create the future you desire. Now go celebrate:)
Are you going through a major life renovation? Do you have an idea of what you want your life to look like, but you are unsure of how to get from where you are to that image of your dreams?
Journaling can be a helpful tool when you are undergoing any life transition. I will be a guest on Dawn Herring’s #JournalChat Live on Twitter this Sunday, January 5 at 4:00 pm EST where we will be talking about how to set up and use journaling to create the life you want. Join us with the hashtag JournalChat to share your experiences in journaling through transition or to learn from others.
In residential real estate, the value of a property is often found through market comps, the comparison of the property in question to other, nearby residences that are similar. Of course, no property is identical to any other, so adjustments are made to the sales prices of the comps to arrive at a value for a given property. It’s as much art as science, learning the values of the various adjustments, adding here and subtracting there in order to create a level playing field.
I like this strategy – using comparisons yet also recognizing individual character and worth. In fact, it’s not a bad game plan in other areas as well, as I discovered this past week.
We just returned from our second (hopefully) annual ski trip. Last year, it was just Brock and I. This was perfect, as I was very nervous about tackling the sport. For some reason, going downhill is panic-inducing for me. Like, limbic system lockdown panic. This only happens when I am the one in control of steering and slowing – rollerblades, bikes, running and even driving. Roller coasters and sitting in a passenger seat on a fast descent are no problem – in fact, I love them.
A huge improvement over last year’s newborn giraffe posture! 🙂
It would be easiest for me to avoid those situations that require me to trust my ability to control my speed and direction. Easiest, but also limiting. And, if there is one takeaway lesson from my divorce, it is not let fear ever limit me again.
Last year’s trip was the first time I ever really tackled this fear of the downhill head-on. And it was quite a meeting. Seriously, check it out, if only to laugh at the pictures of me looking like a newborn giraffe attempting to take its first steps:)
This time was a little different. I knew a little more what to expect, which tempered some fear but also provided scaffolding for expectations, which I had avoided year one. Furthermore, we were not alone this time; we were joined by three friends, two who as accomplished skiers and one who was brand new to the sport.
On the first day, I went with Brock straight to the easiest green run that I had skied last year. I was nervous as the lift neared the top, wondering if the feeling of my skis on the hill would be familiar or if my body would remember how to move. It wasn’t bad. I bailed soon after my skis hit the snow, which I also did every time last year. Once I stood up and took a few deep breaths, I was ready to tackle the slope. I never fell, but I sat down (my reaction when panic set in either due to excessive speed or fear that I couldn’t steer around someone) several times. I went down that same slope several more times that afternoon, each run a bit better than the previous.
Yup, that is a hill.
But I still hadn’t mastered my nemesis. That run has a short, steeper portion about halfway down. It’s a bit tricky, not only due to the increased decline, but also due to the curve, steep, treed drop-off and the heaps of other beginners who didn’t make it down in one attempt. Each time, I would stop at the top of the hill and wait for a clear (or at least clearer) path. Each time, I would make it about halfway down the slope before panicking and bailing. As the attempts went on, I grew more and more frustrated with myself.
It didn’t help that this time, I was also comparing myself to another – the brand new skier in our group. By about run number three, he was able to make it down that entire green slope without falling. I saw him, another novice, as comparable to myself. So when I fell short, I felt defeated.
I carried that feeling into day two. That, plus a serious sleep shortage and a not-too-happy belly, led to a limited day. But it still had its bright spots.
In the morning, I again did “my” run, this time with one of our friends who is an excellent skier. He was trying to encourage me to give up on the snow plow method of braking (which is what I was taught the previous year) and instead use turns to control my speed. By the end of the run, I was starting to pick up his suggestions and become comfortable in their application.
Brock then joined me on my next run. I had two firsts – I made it off the lift without bailing and I made it down my nemesis without ever touching the ground (which my bruised butt appreciated!). Once I realized I made it down intact, I was distracted and fell soon after. I was surprised to feel tears on my cheeks as I stood up. Tears not from pain, but from the satisfaction of facing and conquering a fear. Not unlike the tears that fell during the marathon.
At that moment, it didn’t matter that there are many that could ski that hill backwards and blindfolded. It didn’t matter that our novice friend mastered faster than me. All that mattered was that I faced my fear, stayed with it and learned to trust my ability to make it through. I had been using comps to judge myself, but I had failed to make adjustments. Unlike our friend, I had some repair work to do before I was ready enough to gain confidence on the slopes. Once I allowed time for those restorations, I was right on track.
By midday, I had graduated to a more difficult and longer beginner’s run. I again made it off the lift (this time one with a VERY steep ramp at the offload) without bailing. And, although I fell several times, I handled each hill better than the last and allowed my speed to pick up more and more. At one point, alone on a lift, I thought of the trust fall activity where one person with eyes covered, falls backwards, counting on a partner to break the fall. Until that day, I hadn’t been letting myself fall. On that day, I learned that I could let go and trust myself to get back up.
By the third morning, I approached the slopes with confidence rather than trepidation. I made it through six beginner runs without falling or bailing (yes, including my nemesis!). My legs were giving out but I could feel that it was no longer as taxing on my mind. I was no longer facing a fear, the hills had become known. Maybe not allies yet, but no longer adversaries.
During the entire trip, Brock had been pushing me to try an intermediate blue slope. I kept pushing back, convinced I was not ready. I think I surprised him when I met him at the bottom of the slope and asked him to run a blue with me. I knew I was ready yet I also knew it would be a challenge. It didn’t let me down. Well, actually, I guess it did, as my flawless beginner runs gave way to multiple tumbles (including a spectacular face plant).
But you know what? I never panicked on that run. I never got frustrated. I didn’t compare myself to the other newbie who had been skiing blues for two days by that point. All I thought about was the progress that I had made.
Because regardless of the comparisons we make to others, we are all unique properties with our own areas of strength and weakness. Rather than trying to compare yourself to the others, work on your own renovations, making yourself the best you can.
As for me, I may never be the best skier around, but I am the best skier I can be. At least until next year, when I plan on mastering those intermediate slopes:)
I grew up watching David Letterman on the Late Show. My favorite part of every show was always the top ten list. It was relevant, clever and often had multi-layered meanings embedded within the list. This top ten list is not like that:) These are simply the 10 most shared posts from my site over the past two years (yikes! has it really been that long?!?). Plus, it would have to be called the Early Show since I’m often in bed long before ten.
Drumroll, please, Paul Shaffer.
10. Ghosts of Christmas: I wrote this one last year, reflecting on how the holiday changed for me once my parents divorced and how Christmas has evolved for me as an adult. I still smile looking at some of the pictures in this post. I look so young. Scary fact – I was already dating my ex husband at the time the one with the huge stocking was taken.
9. En Guarde: Lessons From the Fencing Strip: I fenced (yeah, the thing with the swords) throughout much of high school. My instructor, a surly Frenchman nicknamed Pouj, taught me many lessons. About sword fighting, sure, but also about life.
8. Divorce and PTSD: This has been my most controversial piece to date (don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll write more that get people’s drawers in a bunch:) ). The link between divorce and PTSD is starting to get more attention. I hope that continues; no one should have to suffer in silence.
7. Who Is He?: Ahh, yes. The post inspired by the way people find my blog. It’s scary, but Google will auto-fill my name with “husband” or “ex husband.” I reveal his identity in my own way in this post.
6. I Leave You With: This is a recent post, written just before my wedding. I was feeling reflective and grateful and I wanted to share hope with those who cannot yet see the light. It does get better. I promise.
5. Finding Love Again: This is a somewhat abstract post about dating and being vulnerable in love after loss. I share my screw-ups and what I learned along the way. Apparently people find them helpful. Or they just like to laugh at my screw-ups:)
4. Fifty Shades of Grey Through the Eyes of a Divorcee: I was asked to read this book before attending a party with the same theme. The story didn’t captivate me, but I saw the appeal for women who had been through a divorce. By the way, the Grey Goose martinis with zip tie olive holders were awesome!
3. Tips For Surviving a Malignant Divorce: One of the reasons I started writing was that there was little to information and support for those going through an atypical divorce. All the usual advice did not pertain to me. This post enumerates some of what I figured out and that can be helpful for those also engaged in an unusual divorce. A note here, I usually shy away from labels like “narcissist” and “sociopath” in regards to my ex, but these tips certainly apply to those divorcing spouses with those diagnoses.
2. How to Become a Huffington Post Blogger: Apparently a lot of people want to write for HuffPo. Getting on with them was certainly a big break for me that lead to many more opportunities. Here are my suggestions for getting published. Just make sure you have a thick skin first – those commenters are brutal!
Paul, you’re up. Another drumroll, please:)
1. The Day the Marriage Died: Much of this was actually written in the weeks after he left. It’s raw. Brutal, even. I still have trouble reading it, even to this day. I think it captures the shock and devastation left behind when a marriage ends suddenly. Thank goodness that life doesn’t end there.
So, there you have it – the top ten shared posts. Hopefully you saw some old favorites or found something new to enjoy over a cup of coffee. Happy hopefully-a-holiday Monday to you:)
Last night I went to a holiday gathering. The only thing we all had in common is that we had taught (or, in some cases, still teach) at a particular middle school. But that single bond is a strong one. Some of the attendees have been absent from those halls for several years (I am one of them), yet we return to this particular gathering every year like well-trained homing pigeons.
It’s unusual for a group of coworkers to form this kind of bond. But that’s because the conditions were unusual as well. It was an amazing school, yet, in many ways, it was the trenches. Our clientele needed so much from us that we were all full-time caregivers as well as teachers. Many of them came from violence and it was the only language that they spoke. It meant that we were also full-time law enforcement. We endured many changes of the guard with ever-changing rules and expectations. Some administrators were wonderful. Others, abusive. We became full-time counselors to our coworkers as well as our students. We had many tragedies stroke our students and our staff. We became family.
We bonded because we survived together.
We bonded because we all had a shared understanding.
We bonded because, on many days, that bond was the only thing keeping us sane.
Our relationships formed under great pressure and at great depths.
And that’s how diamonds are made.
And, as we all know,
Diamonds are forever.
In many ways, I feel the same way about you guys, my online community.
We have all survived.
We all speak a common language of love and loss.
We have all helped each other.
We have all been through the depths and the pressure.
And yet we won’t let the darkness quiet our voices or our spirits.
I like to think we shine like those diamonds, offering a beacon of hope.
As we enter in to the final days of the year, I am reflecting back on 2013. And feeling grateful for this community. You offered me support when I saw my ex for the first time in years. You helped me process my thinking when I was debating about leaving writing behind. You pumped me up with my latest endeavor. You celebrated with me when I married again. I had the pleasure of meeting some of you in the flesh, revealing the faces behind the stories. And, even more importantly, you supported each other, through comments and shares, offering hope and reassurance.
You guys are awesome.
I wish all of you the best as we close out the year. I hope you can celebrate the way you want – whether it be in a house full of people or tucked under the covers with a good book.
Lessons From the End of a Marriage 