Signs You’re Holding On When It’s Time to Let Go

holding on

Letting go is hard.

Damned hard.

I first learned this as a young child, exploring my grandmother’s basement, packed to the ceiling with carefully labeled and organized items as though she was preparing to seek refuge from the apocalypse.

Which, in many ways, she was.

She lived through starvation and disaster on the Dakota prairie that followed the first World War. Later, she experienced the Great Depression and the subsequent war that followed. She felt the burden of providing for three children while also caring for a sister and a husband that faced medical crises.

All of this occurred long before I was born. So I puzzled at the multiples of cans stacked on a windowsill that approximated a grocery shelf when a fully-stocked pantry and fridge occupied the kitchen above. From my perspective as a middle class American kid, the grocery store was a constant. I simply couldn’t understand the need to create an additional level of food security at home even as I could see how deeply the need went within her.

Then my parents divorced. And for the first time in my young life, I felt that overwhelming need to hold on to something – anything – in an attempt to create that sense of security and certainty that I needed to feel safe in the world. In fact, that need was part of what drove my attachment towards my first husband. Sometimes I wish that hindsight could be aimed forwards.

At some point, most of us experience that sense of life pulling the rug from beneath our feet. We reach out. And grab on. 

Only to realize much later that we’re still holding on long after it’s time to let go. 

The following are possible signs that you’re still holding on when perhaps it is time to let go:

The person, object or situation no longer brings you joy or fulfills a purpose.

The first hosta that I planted in my old front yard brought me endless pleasure. I admired its immense green span when I pulled into the driveway and marveled at the unfurling of its new leaves. As the sun intensified over the ensuing weeks, the once-pristine leaves began to brown, turning shriveled and deformed in the face of the sun’s relentless beating. The plant no longer brought me joy. Instead, the sight of the failing foliage brought me guilt and shame and frustration. Even as I refused to admit defeat and replace it with something more suitable.

We all have a tendency to that, to stubbornly hold on to our choices even when we no longer find joy or usefulness with our selection. Life’s too short for placeholders and clutter. If it doesn’t bring joy (to you or someone else) or fulfill a purpose, why continue to hold on?

You show signs of anxiety when you consider letting go that are out of proportion with the actual loss.

Have you ever removed a pacifier, favored toy or security blanket from the hands of young child? Did they act as though you were threatening their very existence? This just goes to show how easily we assign great meaning to things that can be relatively inconsequential.

We use these things – whether people or items – much like first responders use gauze to pack a wound. We stuff them in around the bleeding spaces in an attempt to halt the flow of emotion. Their presence means that we don’t have to examine the wound. And we fear that if we remove them, we will succumb to the underlying injury.

The opportunity cost is beginning to be a burden.

I was in contact with a person who was in an on-again, off-again relationship. They were torn. On the one hand, they were afraid of being alone and were appreciative of the positive aspects of this particular partner. On the other hand, there were significant communication struggles and work that both needed to do to past this. Ultimately, this person decided to move on – literally – because continuing to say “yes” to this relationship meant saying “no” to many exciting opportunities that were presenting themselves.

Whenever you are holding on to one thing, you are preventing yourself from holding on to something else. Are you finding that you have goals that you cannot seem to meet because your attention is still directed towards this other thing? Are your hands too full to pick up what you desire?

You find yourself making excuses and becoming defensive when questioned.

My need for my ex husband was extreme. So extreme that I was not able to face the thought of losing him, much less confront the reality of who he was. I made excuses for his excuses and defended him to myself and others. And the one time someone asked if I was afraid about infidelity while he travelled? Let’s just say that they never tried to bring it up again.

We often feed ourselves the narrative that we’ve made choices and now we have to live with them because it’s easier than facing the fact that maybe we made the wrong choice and we have the power to change it. Denial is powerful and it puts up quite the fight when it feels threatened. As such, when you feel yourself gearing up for a battle when there are no weapons drawn, it’s a sign that you may be grasping onto something that would be better off released.

The fear of the leap is the only thing in your way.

It’s scary to take a leap of faith.

The thought of letting go when you fear that you may plummet seems like a fool’s mission.

Yet if you’re always holding on, you’ll never know what you can reach.

Related: The Danger of Holding On

Let That Sh*t Go!

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So the Wind Blows

The storm pummeling Atlanta today has been described already as “historic.” I’m not sure if that will be the case but the howling wind and pelting ice outside my window certainly sound as though they are harbingers of the winter apocalypse.

I keep having flashbacks to the only other major ice storm I’ve been through. It was in 2000, 6 months after I’d moved to Atlanta and just over a month after I got married. My husband had just had a vasectomy the day before the storm hit. At least he was able to enjoy his Playstation and ice his wound for a day before we lost power! We ended up spending 3 days without power in an all-electric 3rd floor apartment without a working fireplace. We played board games in the living room during the day and slept (with the dog and cat) in the only interior room – the bathroom. I remember clearly the gunshot cracks of the 80 foot tall pine trees as they snapped one by one under the weight of the ice. Within two days, the surrounding woods looked as though a picky tornado had thinned them.

So here I am again, a newlywed awaiting the ice storm. I’m glad that this time I have lower floors to occupy, gas water heater and a working fireplace with plenty of wood ready to go. Oh, and a husband who didn’t just have surgery:) One way I’m less prepared? Books. I don’t have many really ones anymore and Kindle batteries don’t last forever. I may end up reading the backs of everything in the pantry:)

I couldn’t sleep last night. I do that when I’m concerned about something. I don’t know why. It’s not as if I can keep the trees standing simply by being awake. I gave up a little while ago and decided to enjoy coffee and a real breakfast, not knowing what the future may hold (have a feeling it may be a diet of protein bars and faked coffee – thank goodness for camping supplies).

Since I may be out of commission for a while, I pulled three pieces from the vault for you. See if any of them tickle your fancy.

While you’re reading, I’m going to enjoy a hot bath and a good (non-Kindle) book and pretend that the creaking trees are the masts of wooden boat sailing the Caribbean.

Pardon Me, Ego. I Need to Get Through

Ego:

the “I” or self of any person; a person as thinking, feeling, and willing, and distinguishing itself from the selves of others and from objects of its thought. (from dictionary.com)
Ever since we first begin to see ourselves as separate, sentient beings in childhood, our egos define how we interpret the world around us.  That sense of self may actually be holding you back from healing from your divorce.  Do you see yourself in any of the following patterns?
It’s All About Me
When I first realized the extent of my husband’s betrayals, I kept asking, “How could he do this to me? To the one he was supposed to love?”  I saw his actions directed towards me as an arrow towards a target.  I assumed he was thinking about me as he made these decisions.  He lied to me.  He cheated on me.  He stole from me. That pattern kept me fully anchored in a victim state, the recipient of all the pain and deceptions.
Slowly, I realized that it wasn’t all about me.  He lied and cheated and stole, yes.  But he did those things because of whatever demons had him in their grasp.  He didn’t do those things because of me.  He most likely wasn’t even thinking of me while they occurred.  He did them and I was in the way.
I shifted my thinking. When he hurt me, he was acting to protect his own sense of self rather than trying to wound mine.  I began to let the anger go.
It is not easy to remove the ego from interpreting the actions of one so intimate to you. Try looking at the situation with an open mind, letting go of your own ego, and see how your perspective shifts.

Of Teddy Bears and Security Systems

For most of my married life, I felt secure. I had a husband that I trusted. I owned a home and had been at the same job for many years. I felt comfortable in my life; I trusted that change, if desired, would come from intention. It was predictable and I liked that. If you had asked me where I would have been five years down the road, I would have answered without hesitation.

That feeling of security and blind trust is what allowed me to become complacent. Too comfortable. I was petrified of losing that feeling of security. I was very conservative in my decisions, choosing to avoid risk whenever possible.

I lost all semblance of security when he left. Everything was in question; nothing was sure. I didn’t have time to let it scare me. I simply had to survive. I was operating at the base level of Maslow’s hierarchy: eating, sleeping and breathing were my priorities.

I started tiptoeing back into life. I branched out but much was still unknown. I could not even imagine where I would be five years hence. And I was okay with that.

Read the rest of Of Teddy Bears and Security Systems.

 

Trigger Points

As a runner and weight lifter, I am very familiar with trigger points – painful balls of muscle or fascia caused by acute or repeated trauma. They are  hyperirritable, overresponding to even the slightest pressure or pull. They cause intense pain at their source and can often lead to referred pain in a distant area, frequently occurring along predictable pathways.

As a survivor of a traumatic divorce, I am also very familiar with emotional trigger points – painful memories and associated responses caused by repeated or acute trauma. They are areas of hyperirritability where the response far outweighs the preceding factors. They cause intense pain at the time of their trigger and can cause referred pains in seemingly unrelated areas.

I am consistently amazed at the magnitude and quantity of my emotional triggers. A snippet of a song last night brought me to tears as it reminded me of one of the dogs in my other life. Nothing is safe – smells, sights, words, movies, a date on the calendar. Sixteen years is a long time and it doesn’t leave much untouched. Triggers are like a black hole through space-time, pulling me back to a place of fear and pain.

Read the rest of Trigger Points.

Security

One of the more difficult losses during divorce is the loss of security. On an emotional level, you are vulnerable and facing the realization that the stability you imagined only existed in your mind. On a physical level, you may have to move, you may be the sole adult in the home and your finances will be tighter than before.

Loss of security is scary. It leaves us raw and open. It takes time to rebuild your emotional strength; there are no quick fixes.

But I just stumbled across a quick fix for the physical security.

Brock just recently installed an alarm system in our home (I guess the 90 lb pit bull and his multiple black belts weren’t enough:) I suggest you don’t stop by uninvited!). Now, this just isn’t any old alarm system.

This is pure brilliance.

The product is called SimpliSafe. It’s a wireless, install-it-yourself fully customizable alarm system with available monitoring.

Now, this system is awesome in general, but after seeing it in action, I immediately thought of why it is perfect after divorce.

Portability

It’s common after divorce to be a bit of a nomad, moving from place to place until you’re settled again. A traditional alarm system is expensive to install and must be left behind, as it is hardwired into the home. SimpliSafe is different. Every component is wireless and comes with removable wall adhesive strips on the back. When you move, SimpliSafe can move with you.

Affordability

Typical alarm systems may hook you in with a low up-front cost, but then charge a high, monthly monitoring fee. Or, if you waive the contract, you’re paying thousands for the initial system. With SimpliSafe, you pay for each component separately, buying only what you need. We spent just over $400 to fully cover our decent-sized home with security and fire alarms. The monthly monitoring is also affordable, starting at $15/month. Pennies count after divorce and this system helps them stretch.

Ease of Use

Brock had the entire system up and running in under an hour. No waiting for an installation appointment. No drills. No problem. And a call to customer service was picked up and handled immediately. After divorce, it’s nice to have anything simple.

Fully Customizable 

You can buy and install exactly what you need and where you need it. You can buy keychain dongles that allow you to disarm and set the alarm from the garage. They even have a panic button on the keychain so that you can carry it on you around the house and yard. The add-ons are impressive, but you can always go basic. And, if you have any concerns about the volume produced by a wireless siren, rest easy. My ears were ringing for hours!

This is a completely unsolicited review. I just remember that raw fear of vulnerability post-divorce and I want to share anything that might relieve just a bit of that distress. So, if you’re in the market for an alarm, check out SimpliSafe. It won’t heal your heart, but it may help you sleep a little better at night.

Passionate Protection

One of the most common complaints in a relationship that has gone the distance is the lack of excitement. Of passion.

The spark fades and is replaced by a sense of comfort.

Of predictability.

It’s natural to look for stability in our relationships. We want to feel safe. We want to limit that oh-so-scary feeling of vulnerability. We may be willing to trade some of that early excitement for the comfort of knowing that our partner will be there and that we will be safe. We exchange passion for security.

The problem with this transaction is that security is merely an illusion. There is no such thing as a relationship that is divorce-proof. There are no guarantees. We are trading real goods for the promise of a return that may never come.

It makes sense to take certain precautions. Much like most pay their rent on time so they don’t have to live with the daily fear of being evicted, it makes sense to be cautious in love. But not so cautious that you trade all excitement for the false promise of invulnerability. Even perfect rent payments do not protect your home from burning down around you.

There are problems inherent with assuming too much security. You become complacent. Bored, even. You may begin to seek excitement and novelty outside of the the relationship. Eventually, your internal narrative regarding your spouse changes to match your perceptions, reinforcing the idea that the lack of passion is par for the course with him or her. The very assumption of stability can erode away the foundations of a relationship.

You can maintain passion. You can draw out excitement. But it does mean letting go of the illusion of security. It means protecting your passion even when it can be scary.

Try listening to your partner with an open mind rather than leading with assumptions. He or she will surprise you if you allow it. When you believe you know all there is to know about someone, you begin to fill in the gaps automatically. But if you listen, really listen, you may discover something you didn’t know. Of course, that something may also be against your preferences. There’s the trade-off.

Look at your partner as an individual. Watch them in their element. See the best side of them come alive. It may or may not be a characteristic that you normally witness in them. See it. Appreciate it. Recognize that you are a team but not a single entity. Your partner is his or her own person. As you are yours. Maintain some separation, some mystery. In that way, you always leave room for discovery.

Be proactive about maintaining experiences as a couple outside of routine. Routines allow us to function but they also become suffocating if you never deviate. Try new things. The excitement will transfer to the relationship. Embrace a certain amount of unpredictability. Don’t restrain laughter. Be willing to try and look foolish.

Don’t depend upon your partner to create passion. Find it yourself.  Explore the things that bring you joy, that give you purpose and allow you to create. Your partner may not share your interest in gardening or ju-jitsu, but you can share the energy that  it brings you. Take responsibility for your joy. Passion has a way of being contagious. Pass it on.

Amusement parks have created an entire industry around the balance of security and excitement. They know how to give you the feeling of vulnerability, with its associated joy when you emerge unscathed,  without too much of the risk. You can find that balance in a relationship as well.  Let go of the illusion of security. Actively seek excitement and novelty within the relationship. Protect your passion as diligently as you protect your heart.

Related: Of Teddy Bears and Security Systems

Life Assurance Policy

life is not a waiting room

My parents are of an age where their friends and acquaintances are dying in ever-increasing numbers. Some of them are felled before they make it to retirement, some of them have been there awhile and others have found that elusive balance between work and play for much of their lives.

I’m of age where retirement feels eons away and I find it easy to assume that I have many tomorrows to fill with my dreams. I file plans for retirement as easily as I put money into my pension.

Of course, I know there are no guarantees in life. I may not make it until retirement. The carefully saved money could disappear. The health I’m blessed with could be taken with one illness or a single accident. The people I want to spend time with may no longer be around. I’ve already faced the loss of one dream with the collapse of my marriage; others may still follow.

The other day, I learned from my father about another death. A man who had been looking forward to having time to pursue his passion. A passion which is now to be carried out by those who loved him. The conversation gave me pause. We so often delay our passions due to necessity – the bills that need to be paid, the house that needs upkeep and the tasks that accompany life. It’s so easy to forget those things which make us truly alive while we tend to those minutiae which keep us alive.

Immediately following that conversation, Brock called from his business trip. He had some information that was making him think about his future, causing him to question the retirement he was planning. We had an interesting talk, weighing the “now” versus the “maybes” in the future, trying to extrapolate the potential repercussions down the road of various choices. We arrived at no answers, only a sense of clarity and of shared purpose in our goals. For now, that’s enough.

I used to think that if I kept quiet, played by the rules, that everything would be okay. That was my life assurance policy. Unfortunately, the premium on the policy was way too high – causing me to pay with procrastination of passion, keeping me in a waiting room of life. And then, when those promises of a secure future for a faithful wife and hard worker failed to materialize, it turned out that the policy didn’t pay.

That experience was like one of near-death. I live in a way I didn’t before now that I truly comprehend how much of an illusion security can be.

I’ve now written my own life assurance policy. It’s more a list of promises to myself than anything. A list that reminds me to live for today. The premium only requires that I remind myself of my promises and stay true to my own beliefs. It requires no forms and no salesmen. It’s fully transferable and never expires. And that’s a life assurance policy I can feel good about.

Lisa’s Life Assurance Policy

-Remember your passions. Find a way to incorporate them into daily (or at least weekly) life. Ignore the excuses the brain kicks up – that’s only fear talking.

-Don’t spend more time/money/energy on tomorrow than you do for today. Every day and every interaction is worth it.

-Be smart about planning for tomorrow but don’t waste time worrying about tomorrow. There is too much you cannot foresee and cannot control.

-Become at peace with change. It’s not going anywhere; you might as well get used to it.