Don’t Just Survive. Thrive.

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Days after my tsunami divorce, my mom turned to me and told me I would survive.

I actually got angry and responded rather strongly, “No, I will not survive. I will thrive. To do anything less is to remain his victim.”

 

I saw surviving as the bare minimum; the mere intake of breath and food in order to go through the motions of life. I refused to settle for that. I wanted more. It felt insurmountable, yet the vision and hope remained intact.

Almost five years on, and I am happy to report that I am thriving, due in large part to the four behaviors discussed in this awesome article that discusses resiliency and the difference between thriving and merely surviving.

You deserve to thrive. Learn how to take yourself off life support so that you can flourish.

My Divorce “Care Package”

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Divorce is one of those times when you have to consciously assemble artifacts and experiences that make you feel safer, more sane and more alive. It can be amazing to discover what becomes important, what small detail assumes major significance in the molting stage of your new life.

Here are the contents that filled my divorce care package. What’s in yours? It’s only fair, I showed you mine:)

Anniversaries That Aren’t

Posted on by stilllearning2b

This one passed with barely any recognition. It was just another day. I only became aware of its familiar form as I was signing passes for students. Yesterday marked what would have been (note: NOT what should have been) the 14th anniversary of my first marriage. And there were no ghosts. No whimpers from the past. No nothing.

It was a day unmarred by bygones and what-ifs.

But it hasn’t always been that way.

Here’s my post from last year’s anniversaries that aren’t:

 

Today would have been my thirteenth wedding anniversary. Thirteen years ago today, I married my high school sweetheart on an empty beach in Florida. The photos from that day capture the love we had. The youth. The innocence. The promise.

wedding pic

What would have been our tenth anniversary was the hardest. He has left five months prior and we were still legally married. I used a psychiatrist’s appointment as an excuse for a sick day off work (the last day before winter break and a planned trip to San Antonio). After the morning appointment, I took a Xanax (one of three I took during the whole experience) and spent the day in my bed in my friend’s guest room. I distinctly remember not wanting to be alone and feeling reassured that her husband and then her father were going to be there throughout the day. I couldn’t muster up the energy to be social. I don’t think I ever made it down stairs, but I remember listening to the sounds coming in my door. I spent the day in a fugue state – not awake and not asleep. I tried to read, but couldn’t. I tried to sleep, but that eluded me too. I cried. A lot. I wrote. I cried some more. I could not face that anniversary that wasn’t.

By the would-have-been eleventh anniversary, I was in a much better place. I was situated in my own apartment and in the early stages of a new relationship. It was still a very difficult day. A sad day. I went to work. I functioned. But I also broke down and cried a few times. I was afraid to be alone that evening and spent the night at Brock’s. I still mourned what had been lost, but I also saw hope for the future.

Last year, on would be anniversary number twelve, I felt okay. I didn’t feel like I was a damn holding back a wall of sadness that was waiting to crush me. I felt okay. But I didn’t trust it. I remember tiptoeing through the day, as if I might release the pain if I tread too hard. The pain didn’t come. I spent a normal (as normal as a middle school can be) day at work and spent a quiet evening on the couch with Brock.

And today? On lucky number thirteen? I’m alone at the moment and I okay. No, I’m more than okay. I’ve been aware of the date but it hasn’t hurt. I left a note for Brock this morning as this same date is a difficult anniversary for him for different reasons) and I received an image with the following quote from him on my Facebook:

Good relationships don’t just happen. They take time, patience, and people who truly want to be together.

That definitely helps keep any demons at bay:) I came home to Brock and his friend, who just had knee surgery, on the couch laughing and playing Call of Duty. It was a scene that made me smile – two friends helping each other and laughing while doing it. By the time I got back from the gym, Brock was at ju jitsu, where he will be until after I’m asleep (I’m pitiful in the evening). I’m alone on December 18, but I’m not alone. I’ve let people into my heart and they are with me even now. Oh, and Tiger and Maddy too:) It’s hard to feel alone when you have a 90 lb pit bull on your lap!

photo-181

Anniversaries that aren’t are strange things. They are meaningless and yet we mark them. It’s a time when we used to reflect upon the past years of the relationship. Now that the relationship is over, we find ourselves playing a game of “what if?,” wondering what this day might have looked like otherwise. These anniversaries are so piercing at first, the loss overwhelming and threatening to undo a year’s worth of work. But they don’t have to stay that way. We can let them soften, let them become mere curiosities on the calendar. I see it like a number line. I used to count the positive numbers away from my wedding day. Now, I am on the other side of zero, counting away from my divorce date. I can see today as would-have-been thirteen or I can celebrate it as it-is-three. I bet you can guess which view I choose:)

So, I am wishing myself a happy anniversary. And I am celebrating three years of loving and laughing and learning. That’s an anniversary I can celebrate every year!

 

 

And today, yet another year out, I am still celebrating. And wishing all of you happy anniversaries that aren’t.

Announcement

 

How to Surf a Tsunami

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Many of us will face a personal tsunami at some point in our lives. We will be felled by a great wave bringing with it sudden change and loss. Perhaps your tsunami is in the form of the death of a loved one, maybe it is the loss of a job or a way of life or possibly you have lost the health you took for granted. My own tsunami was in the form of an unexpected divorce after being abandoned via a text message.

Regardless of the nature of your abrupt trauma, tsunamis have some common characteristics. By their nature, tsunamis are difficult to predict and even harder to prepare for. You have to face the realization that you cannot control your surroundings. The world that you knew is gone, swept away in a single move. You feel disoriented as you try to navigate this new realm.

Soon after the trauma, it feels like it will be impossible to rebuild. The odds seem insurmountable. The shock and grief permeate everything and make every move a struggle. Restoration after a sudden trauma is not easy, but it is possible. In fact, you can even learn how to surf your tsunami, moving through it with skill and grace.

The following are my healing tips for anyone who has been flattened by a tsunami.

Breathe

The blow of sudden trauma is physical. The body tenses as if anticipating another blow. The breath is the first to suffer; it becomes shallow and rapid behind a breast wrapped tight in a straightjacket of sorrow. Release it. It won’t be easy and it won’t be automatic, at least in the beginning. Set a reminder on your phone or computer to take several deep breaths at least once an hour. As long as the body is anticipating another blow, the mind will be as well. Sometimes it’s easier to train the body and allow the mind to follow.

Read the rest here.

8 Lessons From the Campground

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Our annual Thanksgiving camping trip is only days away. The long underwear has been unearthed and the tent located. My weekly shopping list makes it clear that I am preparing for cold weather and hearty appetites. I love our times at the campground – they have been a key part of our relationship from the beginning. Here is a repost of our first Thanksgiving camping trip. If you want the full effect, read in front of a campfire:)

 

Mere days before Thanksgiving, my partner and I found out we had to move within 30 days because his house had just sold.  We had been planning a camping trip over the break and our initial reaction was to cancel the trip, so that we could focus on the move.  I am so glad that we decided to continue with the trip.  Not only did we have a good time and enjoyed the time together, but it actually made the move less stressful because we had lessons that we took with us from the campground.

1) Teamwork Required

One of the best aspects about camping is that it requires teamwork.  Assembling a large tent is a,most an impossibility single-handedly, but becomes a fun challenge when tackled by two.  We quickly fell into a rhythm, working together, sharing some tasks and dividing others.  He would brave the early morning frost to get the fire started so that we could prepare breakfast.  I faced the frigid waters to clean the dishes of their breakfast remnants.  The dog, well, he just laid there shivering in a sleeping bag looking pitiful. We functioned as a team.

2) Take Pleasure in the Smallest Things

When camping, you certainly have to do without many of life’s modern conveniences.  However, because your expectations are in line with reality, it is not necessary a bad thing to leave that behind.  You learn to appreciate the smallest achievements, the tiniest bit of warmth, a few steps on level ground.  You don’t know when your next bit of pleasure will arrive, so you celebrate each moment of it that comes your way.  And, just so you know, Starbucks VIA works great at a campsite; that first sip of coffee each brisk morning was heaven.

3) Surroundings Don’t Impact You as Much as You Think

I have always been sensitive to my surroundings; I need things “just so” so that I can work or relax.  This can be a problem when moving, because some amount of chaos and disorder is inevitable.  The campground was organized for functionality.  We certainly had beautiful views, but they were not to be had in our immediate surroundings.  But it was okay.  Happiness is not found in a campground that looks beautiful, but is devoid of soul.  I learned to release some of my obsession with my surroundings; they don’t matter as much as I think.

4)Take Breaks

We spent each day on long hikes up nearby mountains.  We had our goal of reaching the tops, of course, but we planned each day with plenty of time to get there.  As a result, we were able to take breaks whenever and wherever we chose.  These are some of my favorite memories of the trip; the times sitting on the side of a mountain, looking out over the vistas, my boys by my side.  Immense pleasure can be found in those moments between activity.

5) Share Burdens

Long day hikes require a decent amount of supplies, especially when your partner insists on bringing survival gear:)  We shared the load, distributing the weight so that no one person had too much to bear.  Even the dog has to carry his part.  There is no reason that any burden has to be carried alone; you can even share the load with your dog if need to.

6)  Uphills are Balanced by Downs

Some of those hikes felt like they were uphill both ways, but any loop or out-and-back will have a net elevation change of zero.  Just like on the trails, we are often more aware of the uphills in life, but remember that they are balanced by the downhills.  Make an effort to notice the times the path is easy.

7) Use Your Resources

This is where my partner really shines.  When we realized that one of the tent stakes had broken when we were assembling the nylon beast, he grabbed some supplies from his pack and some sticks from the woods and quickly fashioned a replacement within minutes.  Before declaring a situation beyond hope, look around you and see what you can utilize to help.

8)  It Takes Effort to Gain Perspective

Our campsite was located at the base of Table Rock Mountain, its visage towering over us in all its granite splendor.  Our first day was spent preparing the campground, we were in our little insular world.  The next afternoon after a long, uphill climb, we reached elevation where we could see our campsite and how it related to the larger landscape.  We tend to live life in its details and forget to look at the big picture.  It takes effort to gain perspective, but a climb to the top gives valuable information.  It’s worth checking out now and then.

We took those lessons with us into the move and we try to carry them with us all of the time.