Dulling the Knife’s Edge

Posted on by stilllearning2b

This was one of my first posts on this site (back when I had all of 4 followers, I think). I put it on Facebook today and it’s been generating some interesting feedback so I thought I would repost it again here. Enjoy:)

 

 

knives serious

When I first felt the raw, unwashed trauma of my divorce, I would direct anger and indignation towards anyone who blithely told me that time heals all wounds.  How foolish they must be, I thought.  They must have never been through any challenges.  How could the mere rotation of a clock hand soften the shock and pain of being utterly betrayed from the inside out?  I scoffed at the notion.

Luckily for me, time continued on, ignorant of my harsh view of it.

The changes were so subtle at first, I did not notice them.  The improvement from one hour to the next too small to be measured.  But it was there nonetheless.

A clock made in Revolutionary France, showing ...
A clock made in Revolutionary France, showing the 10-hour metric clock. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As time continued its relentless linear path, my pain followed suit in an inverse relationship, although in a much more randomized pattern.  I became accustomed to the things causing my discomfort, and so I was not as aware of them.  The pain, once so alien, became familiar and no longer needed attention.  Anniversaries came and went and I survived. I layered memories, replacing painful ones with fresher happier ones. The hardest times occurred with diminishing frequency  and lessening intensity.

I still dismiss the notion that time will heal all wounds; time is no surgeon, ready to excise the malignant past.  However, time does dull the knife’s edge of past traumas, lessening their ability to cause that searing pain, that sharp intake of breath when the blade pierces your heart.  The pain becomes duller, more distant, more manageable.  It’s as though its initial razor edge is dulled by time dragging it through the rocks lining the river of life, new experiences whittling away the once-sharp edge.

River Rocks and Clouds Reflected

While waiting for the blade of your trauma to dull, carry lots of bandages and always be wary of the edge.

When Am I Ever Gonna Use This?

Posted on by stilllearning2b
Saarbrücken, HTW, Mathematics Workshop
Saarbrücken, HTW, Mathematics Workshop (Photo credit: flgr)

“When am I ever gonna use this?” As an eighth-grade algebra teacher, I hear this refrain at least once a week. It’s a difficult question to answer. I mean, when is the last time that your employer asked you to factor a polynomial or prove two polygons congruent? The truth is that most of us will never use the myriad of math facts and algorithms in our post-school lives. However, that does not mean that math does not have some valuable lessons for us. The following are lessons that can be learned in an algebra classroom and applied in your life. No calculator required.

Read the rest on The Huffington Post.

Quitting vs. Letting Go

Posted on by stilllearning2b
Release!
Release! (Photo credit: Destinys Agent)

To the uninformed, these may appear to be the same thing. After all, they both require the release of something. Both create a void. And both originate from choice. Although on the surface quitting and letting go appear to be twins, the motivating substance behind the facades is quite different.

Quitting is born from fear or frustration. The latter tends to result in micro-quits; short periods where we give up and walk away only to return once sanity is again restored. Macro-quits, those life changing, never going to back decisions, are usually propelled by fear. You quit when you are afraid of what will happen when you proceed. Sometimes this is wise. Your fear may be telling you that the path is too treacherous and it is safer to turn back. However, fear is a sly companion. It is the taxi driver capitalizing on your ignorance to lead you astray. Fear will lie to you and tell you that you are in mortal danger when, in fact, you are perfectly safe. When you quit, you are listening to that fear and believing its stories. You may feel embarrassed or ashamed that you chose to throw in the towel. You may get defensive, throwing up walls and justifying your decision. When we quit out of fear, we often feel unfinished. Unsatisfied. Unsettled. When you let fear be your chauffeur, your destination will not be the one you intended.

Letting go happens when you face your fear. It is that moment when your fear is telling you to grip tight and you choose to release. Letting go is born of acceptance, an understanding that you cannot control all of the outcomes. Letting go gives a sense of peace. Of weightlessness. Quitting is easy. Letting go is not. It is conscious, deliberate act that may take years or decades. It requires patience and compassion. Give yourself that gift and be the driver of your own life.

 

Taming the Monkey Mind: Misbehavin’ Monkey

Posted on by stilllearning2b
Monkey riding a dog.
Monkey riding a dog. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My monkey has been misbehaving recently. It snuck up on me; I didn’t even realize it until he threw a tantrum last night. About unfolded clothes and unwashed dishes. Yeah, silly, I know. Talk to the monkey.

Once my monkey mind was talked down from his ledge, exercised, and soothed with incense and a good book, he was finally able to articulate to me what had him so frantic.

Things have been good.

Uhhmmm…what? Why freak out over that?

He explained that he is used to the status quo. Routine. The right amount of activity and rest. Social time and solitude. Mental work and physical effort. In other words, the monkey wants balance.

Makes sense.

We are all so aware of the imbalance and stress in our lives when things are rough. But we often are not as aware of the effect that good events can have on us. Just as when things go wrong, positive events in our lives (new relationships, new jobs or promotions, good news, working for and reaching goals) can also be difficult. It can catch us off guard because we are not anticipating its appearance. We may not find support from others because they simply see us riding high.

The problem is that we can get caught up in the ride and forget that our monkey mind has a bedtime and gets cranky when he’s overstimulated.

My monkey mind and I reached an arrangement. While things are crazy, I will make an effort to carve out even more time for meditation. I will again view runs as time for reflection or socialization instead of simply ticking away the miles until the marathon (3 more weeks!). I will focus more on the awesomeness of the weekends I have coming up rather than worrying about prepping and packing food (sometimes being a gluten free vegetarian just plain stinks!).

And if the dishes are bothering me, I will simply burn incense.

Taming the Monkey Mind – the beginning

 

My Motivation

Posted on by stilllearning2b
Why can’t my hair look like this every day? 🙂

People keep telling me I’m brave to share my story. I don’t see that. Living through it was the hard part. This is the gravy.

Within days of receiving the text, I got online and searched for answers and support. Most sites offered me nothing. They discussed how to have an amicable divorce (yeah… somehow that didn’t seem too likely in my case), they talked about how to prepare for an upcoming divorce (too late!), and they focused on the legal process, not the life change. I found a few sites that dealt with spousal abandonment, which gave the comfort (and the horrifying realization) that I was not alone. I spent only a short time on these; however, as they mainly focused on people telling their “shock” story over and over. That’s important, but I wanted to get beyond that moment in time. Many of the sites were angry and blaming. Sometimes we need that; I’m not going to pretend that I haven’t raged and cursed and pictured his head on the punching bag. But again, there comes a time to let that go.

I felt so alone, so isolated. People rallied around me yet I had no one that had been through an atypical divorce that could show me the way. I sought guidance from my “love mentors,” but I wondered how my crazy situation would translate. A seed was planted in those early weeks and months. I knew I wanted to thrive and I knew I wanted to somehow create something good from the tsunami. I had no idea how to do it.

Running parallel to my emotional struggles were the legal and physical ones. I spent my days talking to police, lawyers, and doctors. As I shared various portions of the tale, I could see their eyes grow wide with shock and disbelief. “You should write a book,” was an oft heard refrain. So, my personal journal started to become a book. For the first several months, all I did was recount the events and describe my powerful emotions. I envisioned an “ending” where he was in jail and the courts came through in my favor. I didn’t get it yet. I still saw my happiness tied up in his.

The divorce finally happened. He got his slap on the wrist for bigamy. And I found Match.com. I spent the next couple years living. I no longer recounted my story frequently and I stopped writing altogether. Instead, I focused on learning the lessons I talk about here. I knew I still wanted to finish the book. I had the first half written but I had no idea how to finish it since the pictured ending never came. It turned out I had to live it first.

That’s when everything came together. I saw how I could use my story to let others know that they are not alone. I realized that there were lessons I learned that might be able to help others in many situations, not just divorce. I also was acutely aware that I had a great movie-worthy framework (thanks to my ex) from which I could anchor my lessons.

Throughout, my writing has help my own healing. I’ve written about the therapy inherent in the writing process. Sharing has also helped me move forward and release some of the anger as I can start to transform something that was so ugly into a form that can be of benefit.

I’m not brave. I acutely remember those moments when I felt so isolated and lost in the dark during the divorce. I knew there was a path out, yet I could not yet see it and I there were no guides. I hope that by writing and sharing my story, I can at least give you a flashlight to help you find your path. Please leave the light on for those who follow behind you.