So Hum

I meditate most mornings, for 15 or 20 minutes. To start my day, to center and ground me. I prefer guided meditations in the morning. Usually I choose a meditation that guides you in, with an intent, but then, lets you go off in silence, with only the music. I find the music helps block the internal chatter that might otherwise distract me. I find a mantra to repeat is also good to help keep my mind silent.

I have a favorite meditation from Youtube.  This meditation uses the mantra “So Hum”, which is traditional for meditation. It means, “I am”. Since “I am” is traditionally God’s name, they say (the wise spiritual teachers of the millennia) never to follow the words “I am” with anything that God could not be. Like, never say, I am stupid. I am ugly. I’m an asshole. Because, God is not, could not be, those things, lol.

And God lives within us, as us. (Lesson from Eat Pray Love, thank you Liz Gilbert.)

So this morning, I listened to this meditation, and as she guided us to say “So Hum” I began to cry. It surprised me, seriously. I have not felt sad this morning. I slept well last night. But…crying I was.

I realized, when I got to the place where I could just observe myself, that I just have a lot of emotion I am afraid to let surface, over this move. Not that I don’t want to do it, I do. I have dreamed of it. It’s just, all the goodbyes I have to say. To my friends, who are my family here. Mostly, though, to my son.

It brings so much pain to know he will be so far away. It has just been the two of us for so very long. We have gone through so much together. We’ve grown, we’ve had our joys, and our growing pains. I remembered when his father would pass out on the floor watching TV, and we’d both go to bed. He in his room, me next to him in the guest room that became my room for the last 5 years of my marriage. We’d talk, he’d make me laugh so hard. He and I had our own separate world then, about which his controlling father knew nothing. I swear those nights, my son sitting on my bed talking and laughing, made it all bearable, as I planned and plotted a way to get us free.

We created a bond which will never be broken, it is a connection that miles cannot stretch. He will always be my best friend, and I his.

This last thought made the tears stop, and I caught my breath. I am. He is. We are.

The meditation starts out with a centering thought. I am perfection, I am healthy, I am strong.

I am, we are, you are.

Love and light……

 

Blowin’ Away on the Summer Wind

summer wind

I walked with my cousin this morning, a short walk, just a couple of miles. The rain stopped, it was cloudy, and though it was very humid, it was cooler, not quite 80. It was a pleasant change. It’s was that way all day, til a short time ago.

We talk, deep and honest, always. I talked to her about moving, and when I talked about leaving my son in Denver, I started crying. Geezus.

The walk was nice, but I can’t even talk about that without losing it. I don’t know how I’m going to actually do it.

Then I went to the grocery store this afternoon. I ran into one of my best friends there. We have known each other 22 years, since our kids were 2 and in Story Hour at the library together. Her daughter and my son were born on the same day. My son is older, lol, by 3 hours. A fact he never let her daughter forget.  She was part of our small book club.

She had just come home from a big family vacation to Ireland and England, with some side trips, one to Paris for a few days, I think. I had called her to see if she wanted to go for a walk about 3 or 4 weeks ago and she said, “Um…I’m in Ireland.” LOL. I said, “Oh, I guess you don’t want to go then…..” And laughed. We talked a little, texted a little.

So it was good to see her, and just catch up briefly. I told her I sold the house while she was gone, and she looked happy and sad in the same moment. We talked about it briefly, because she had an engagement she had to get to, but I choked up again, talking about taking son to CO. I am a basket case. I so wish he had a father. Or I should say, a father who wasn’t a sociopath. Anyway, we are going to try to get the book club together to say goodbye the week after next.

I truly can’t believe I’ll be out of here in 6 weeks. I’ve feel like I’ve been talking about it forever. It’s been so often, my final escape from so much drama in my life, from men who can’t love, or won’t, who have caused me so much pain.  Men who have taken all I would give, and given me back nothing except pain, and heartache, and lies.

Now I look at it as just an awesome thing I get to do. I’m so over all of that. I think about it, and I think, the drama goes on, I’m sure. Just without me. Because, really….how could there ever be any trust there? Yeah, she lied, a small tiny lie to make him stop lying to her, to make him believe he’d been caught red-handed.  I seriously only objected to it because she involved me, and it just wasn’t true. But really, he’s the one who cannot tell the truth. How could she ever ever trust her heart to him again? So much like my ex. Just cannot talk without trying to manipulate someone.

I feel like, she’s just in her comfort zone with him, and willing to put up with his bullshit.  She was never going to talk to him again, twice now, til I did.  So she did.  What kind of foundation for a relationship is that?  If I’d told him to come here that night 6 weeks ago when he asked me so many times….what would she have done then?  Wanted him back?  I was leaving anyway….who knows?  Such a game they play.

Whatever. It’s none of my business. Sometimes I just go off on a tangent, it was part of my life way too long.  I still feel connected to him on some level, it’s weird.  But it doesn’t stop me from living this life.  If we are connected through past lives, which I feels sure we are, we will bump into each other again.  But this life time….I don’t think so.

The whole point, now, is….I get to retire.  I don’t have to work, unless I want to.  I intend to find a part-time job, grocery money.  I get to live by the water, which has always been my other home.  I get to do the things I love to do, that I have a passion for, and not spend the bulk of my time at a stressful job.  I will be so free.  As hard as it will be to say goodbye to my son, the fact that he’s not going to be living with me, makes me all the more free.

I didn’t do any packing today. Just normal house chores. Laundry, shopping, making some food so we’ll have food to eat during the week. Now I’m outside in the sacred space, lol. With a dark rum and diet coke and half a lime squeezed into it. Feeling pretty content. Sun is out, and it’s breezy. This mornings humidity is blowing away.

As are the last years tears, and pain, and drama. Blowing away, leaving cool, clean energy in it’s place. Life is so good.

Love and light, everyone.

Haiku No. 129: Ancient Connection (4 parts)

connection2

Imperceptible
Except to her, she could feel
His torment, or joy.

It ran through her soul
Igniting threads, erratic
But never-ending.

Most days she ignored
The twinkling showers of sparks
Some days were blinding.

Honor connection
It is ancient, and holy
She’s known him, always.

Life is Calling

I was home alone much of this weekend. While dealing with the damn water in the basement, and cleaning the house, and all the other weekend chores that have to be done, I was going deep, and peeling back layers.

Layers of pain, layers of fear, layers of love. I took a ride, on the emotional roller coaster, and missed some people to the point of tears, and feared losing others to the same extent. I sat with my feelings, I allowed myself to feel all of them, and it wasn’t always pleasant. Then I talked to good friends who helped me to get through. One on Saturday from here, who always gets me back to the present moment. One in Montana, who always reminds me of what’s important. My friend here who is going to drive to Florida with me, who brings me right to my present life, and all the joy I have in it.

At the end of the 2 days, I had done some real work, I think. Last night’s “Goodbye” haiku ( https://learningtolivelikewaterblog.com/2016/07/25/haiku-no-125-goodbye-5-parts/ ) kind of spilled out of my heart, and I think it was real. I think it’s time to let that all go. I hope I left it in a good place, a place I can remember fondly. A place of forgiveness and love, because I just don’t want any of the angst of holding onto negative stuff. Our paths crossed for awhile, the lessons were there, almost in an explosion of emotion, and we both have to move on. Always and all ways, I can live with that.

This morning, there is peace on this hillside, in the trees, in the morning sun on my face and skin, the cool but balmy air silently soothing me. All I can think of is Beth Harts song, “Life is Calling” so I’m going to put the link below.

Love and light, all.

A Few Words on Words

words

Words….

I have been accused of being too wordy, by some. Funny, my ex-husband, in his pre-alcholic days, disliked my reticence. I learned to keep my mouth shut around him, so he’d have nothing to get fired up about, nothing to twist into some crazy attack on him, nothing to make me defend myself against.

I once told his mother, who was calling him at 8 AM, that he’d call her back when he got out of the shower. OMG, the tongue lashing I got for telling her he was in the shower at 8 AM. Geezus. When you live with someone like that for almost 40 years, you learn that the less you say, the less he knows, the better off you are. (Why I stayed is another story, in fact a book, but abusers are good at making us shoulder the blame for their anger.)

When I left him, I gradually found my voice, and my words, and I vowed no one would ever silence me again. Much to the chagrin of at least one other man.

But what else do we have, to express ourselves? Rolling of our eyes? Hand signals? Hanging up the phone? Withholding in bed?  I’m sure I use the first 3 of those, in combination with the words.  The last?  Not really my style….

All that stuff….may communicate pleasure or displeasure, but it doesn’t let someone in. Some people don’t want anyone in. Fear. Afraid if someone gets in they might get hurt. We all probably have that fear at times.

My greater fear is that no one will ever get in. That forever, I’d be alone with my thoughts that I didn’t have the courage to be vulnerable enough to say out loud.

I can say “I love you” if that’s how I feel. There could be a million reasons why it’s not said back. But there also might be a reason to say it. Like, it’s just how a person feels. Maybe me saying it first takes away the fear of saying it back. Maybe not. But maybe. And it may be worth the risk to me.  The bigger gamble for me would be to spend my days wondering “What if I’d said it?  Would he still be here if he knew?”

I like the truth out on the table. I like things to happen based on the truth. Not on games that people want to play. Not on being manipulated into a position. I know who I am. There is kindness underlying my truth, most of the time. Unless I sense injustice. I hate injustice.

But words, written words in particular…have taken me from the dark days of an abusive marriage, they enabled me to help my son to climb out of that same dark cave. The words brought me through an intense affair that ended in terrible betrayal, to the joy I feel in this moment, because the words have allowed me to be true to myself. They have allowed me to tell my story, to form relationships with like-minded people, all over the world. They let me see what is in my head, and decide if what I was thinking, and what I’m saying is actually true.  I have discovered, along the way, that the truth rings.  If it’s not ringing in my head, it’s most likely not true.  At least for me.

Just some thoughts on words.

Can You Hear Me?

hear-me-now

The first time we rode together, I chattered. We were in my town, he was exploring. Didn’t want me to show him. Told me he had a photographic memory and had looked at a map. I chattered anyway, about the buildings, the history, the day, the weather, food….whatever came into my mind. We stopped for gas. As he got out of the car, to fill the tank, he looked at me and said, “Could you just sit there, and be beautiful?”

He shut me up. With a smile. He could do things like that. Just stop me dead in my tracks. No one had called me beautiful for maybe 30 years. I look back and wonder if that’s the moment I fell in love, really in love.

We went to a park. We walked a bit. We found a secluded spot, and did some heavy petting, lol. I felt like a young version of myself. It felt wonderful. His blue eyes twinkled. We stopped for steamed hamburgers. He flirted with the girl behind the register. Maybe 50 years younger than himself. He made me laugh.

He spent the night…I don’t remember anything distinctive about it. I wasn’t used to having a man sleep with me.  It had been more than 10 years.  It wasn’t his first time, but I was just starting to be able to sleep a few hours with his warm body next to mine, hearing him snore occasionally.   But the fact that he said I was beautiful…he owned me, then.

For some months that was what we did.  Go on excursions, usually from his house.  He would take me to beautiful beaches mostly.  Hidden spots.  I knew the waters off shore as well as he.  Maybe better.  I felt at home there.  Once or twice we got on old dirt roads wide enough for one car in the woods.  Roads where the GPS made it look like you were driving through a field.  When we did that, I never talked much.  It was all new to me, what I was seeing, what I was doing.  He would ask, “are you ok, you are so quiet?”

I loved those days.

It didn’t last. It went from “could you just sit there” and “are you ok” to “can you ever be quiet” to “let it be” to “I heard you the first time” (but I didn’t know it because he couldn’t respond) to “shut up” to “shut the fuck up” and not giving a damn if I was ever ok, and now we don’t talk, at all. Once in awhile I message him, when I get the vibe…but he never answers. Once in awhile he leaves me an angry voice mail. Or sends me a one-line barbed message. Those are hard to pull out of your skin, without tearing a big hole in it. He refused back then to hear me. He refuses now.

It’s not that I need to talk….It’s that I need to be heard.

Just heard. Not agreed with. Not patronized. Just heard. Just hear me. Just someone to say, “I hear you. What you have to say is important to me.”

Just heard.  My ex husband refused to hear me too.  He’d yell over me, to make sure.  He had a voice like a marine drill sargent, one of those voices you didn’t compete with.  I swore I’d never let myself get in that position again.  But I did.  Eventually, I did.

Hear me. Someone, please. Just hear me. I’m real. I love you. I need you to hear me. I’ll hear you….I promise….

He’s out there, the one who can hear me. I already love him……

Sorting, Cleaning, and Organizing a Shift in My Thinking

change-thoughts

This picture at the top is a description of what happened to me today. I’m having a glass of wine, after spending the day cleaning, sorting, tossing, organizing. My nightstands were first. Put the stack of books next to my bed into a box of books that will go with me. Put away the prism light, tho not too far away. Both my nightstands are covered in crystals, which I love. I’ll put them away for the pictures, but then bring them back out.

My dresser, yikes. I have so much jewelry! All but a few odd pieces are things I made. Necklaces, bracelets, wire-wrapped pendants, earrings. How to organize it, so I can still use it, and so it can be hidden for the pictures. I think I figured it out, we’ll see.

Then I went to the spare bedroom closets. I cleaned them out of junk awhile back. But today I pulled out pants and sweaters that I haven’t worn, mostly too big, and won’t need in Florida. Two garbage bags full. Probably take them to Savers, the proceeds all go to Big Brothers and Sisters.

Then I went after two ginormous stacks of papers in one closet, all from my divorce. I can’t tell you how much paper there was, for a divorce that lasted 4 years, went to the Supreme Court. There were filings, depositions, motions, decisions, appeals, agreements (that’s a laugh….every one of them agreed to, none of the agreements kept by my ex), bank records, personal and our business, accounting records, spreadsheets, tax returns, yada yada yada.

It made me unbelievably sad. I found the mortgage deed to our first house, paid in full after 15 years. Our cute little cape cod house, with the slate roof, and 150′ of lake front. The promise was so sweet, we had the world by the tail. Except for the occasional outburst that would land dishes and food on the floor, broken and sprayed all over, for me to clean up. We had a set of collector plates, all Normal Rockwell plates, $40 each I think. He broke every one of them one night. I always thought it was my fault, I’d caused it, that’s what he told me. Sociopaths can be very convincing.

It’s all gone now. He fought to keep my name off the deed of that house, and it was a blessing in the end, because once the first mortgage was paid off, none of the debt that caused him to lose the house in foreclosure was mine. His little plan for power and control backfired.I The universe is self-correcting….

Then I found piles of my old journals. Hand-written on legal pads and spiral notebooks. I wrote them because I couldn’t talk to anyone about what was happening to me, and to my son. I was embarrassed, ashamed, I thought it was my fault. I had to at least write it down, I had to at least release it to the universe. I’d never heard of blogging then.

While I was going through this, as if on cue, my phone started playing “The Prayer”. “Lead us to a place, guide us with your grace, to a place where we’ll be safe.” He did……

I went from the sweet promise of our first home, to hating every minute in that house. Hating to come home from work, never knowing what I’d walk into.

I found the mortgage papers for this house where I live now, after I found the demand letters from my atty to his, saying ok, the Supreme Court says pay her, so pay her. Thank God I left when I did, before he had gone through all the money we spent all those years working for. He still blew his portion, which was more than half. But I got enough to start over, and for that I am eternally grateful to the Universe.

I’ve been so happy here. My son has been so happy here. We had five good years here. Full of love and light and joy. Friends, and family. Spontaneous get-togethers. I think even Scott liked the energy here, he used to love to sit on the deck and talk til the wee hours our first summer together. Even our second summer, we still sat out there talking, though it was not as often, he had Betty then. I will be sad to leave here, but look forward to my future life.

Funny though, when I found all the stuff about my ex, the divorce papers, the journals….I just wanted to pitch them. Been holding onto them all these years, and now, I wanted that part of my life over. And I thought, I think it’s time to say the same about my loving Scott. I need for that to be over too, in my head. It’s still fresh, and I’m still attached by the energy, but it’s over. Today I realized that at the end of the day, I don’t feel much different about him than I do my ex. Sad for them, sad for the promise that never blossomed.

I had a bunch of cassette tapes I took with me when I left my ex. I put them all in a bag today when I came across them and I’m going to give them to him. I have nowhere to play them, he has a cassette player in all three of his cars. I also have a bunch of LP’s that I took with me. Vinyl records. But I’m keeping them, I want to get a turn-table some day.

My sister called me today. So full of excitement about my house, she got me refreshed as to the good things that I have in front of me. She’s scoped out windows for the house, she says her hubby is itching to go do work on the little house. I have gone to sleep thinking about my cute little yellow Florida house with the orange shutters and green trim, and the palm tree at the corner of the house. She can’t wait to help me landscape the yard, she has such good knowledge of what plants will do well, which ones won’t. She is a great gardener. We’ll take lunch breaks on the beach. 🙂 🙂

We talked about how fun it will be for us to live close to each other. We haven’t lived near each other since we left home. She exclaimed…. “I love your little town, I’ll be coming over there all the time!!!” I am looking so forward to being able to say “Hey why don’t you come over for dinner tonight…” Or lunch, or whatever. Just to hang out with my sis, my family. To be able to run to Long Boat and watch the sun go down with her and her hubby over the Gulf.

I’ve been chatting with a man all week, a different kind of guy. He knows I’m moving. He is kind, centered, from what I can tell, spiritual. We have spoken on the phone. He isn’t pressing for anything, except a friendship, meaning, he seems willing to let things happen in their own time. I have not told him of my recent heartache, it seems irrelevant to our very budding relationship. I’m not looking for a relationship. Just someone to do things with maybe and have some fun. It’s nice to talk to a man without an agenda.

I’ve run the gamut of emotions today, covering my life, really, my whole adult life today, in the cleaning out and organizing and shedding of those things which no longer serve me. The men I loved, I still love. Some more than others, for sure. I wish good things for them. I hope my ex can find some joy. I hope Scott does too. My life moves onward. Joyfully.

Love and light…..

Sleep, sweet sleep. Ahhhh.

sweet-sleep-wm

I can’t believe how well I’ve been sleeping.  Except for the night I went out dancing and drank a little too much.  But I’ve been getting 7 hours of good sleep every night, with no problem.

To me, the ability to sleep well is such an indicator of healing.  For months after and during all the drama with S, I was taking 10 mg of Ambien every night to get 5 or 6 hours of sleep, and it didn’t always work.  Now, I just go to sleep within minutes of turning my light out at night.  It shows me, more than anything, how much I have let go, forgiven, moved on.  It’s also helpful to know that I still have measures in place so that I can’t hear from, or get involved in any drama with, him or her.  The energy connection is still there, like the ringing in my ears (that I have because I am mostly deaf in one ear) but I am now able to just tune it out.  Never thought I could do that, but I can.

I messaged the Florida realtor last night, and told her I accepted the counter offer. The seller is going to hook up the gas to the stove/oven and to the hot water heater, which will cost her.  Plus she’s going to upgrade the electric at the same time.  So, I agreed that I’d meet her half way as she asked, between my original offer and my new offer.  I told the realtor, let’s get this done, I don’t want to fool around with it any more.

My house here won’t sell for what I’d hoped.  More than I bought it for but not enough to recoup all my money after I pay the realtor and state conveyance tax, which is 1% of the sale price.  But I’ll still be ok, there will still be enough there to do what I planned.

Moving on down the road.  And into the shower, gotta go to work.  🙂

Love and light.

 

 

Dancing Through the Insanity

Rumi

I am starting to find out exactly what’s involved with putting a house on the market. It’s not like there’s a choice, if I want top dollar for the house I have to do it. Today I spent a little time getting stuff together for Easter…some of the traditional Polish treats. My son is half-Polish, his father was 3rd generation 100% Polish, so I like to keep up some of the holiday traditions for him.

Started clearing out the stuff that needs to be out of sight when the house goes on the market, especially for the pictures. Up and down the stairs. Biggest problem is all my jewelry making stuff. Trying to put it in some semblance of order, out of the way. It’s not a neat hobby, lol.

I sat down on the couch to rest around 2. I was so exhausted, and I slept a good 7 hours last night. Why so tired? It occurred to me as I sat, on the computer, with my music from my phone playing on the stereo, that I hadn’t eaten but a protein bar at 7 AM and some coffee. So I got a yogurt, and a tall glass of water, and ate it while I perused WP and FB. Felt much better after about 10 minutes, I think my sugar had crashed.

I decided to brave the basement storage area. It’s attached to my son’s space, and his mess is like water, seeking it’s own level, spreading across the floor. I worked down there for awhile, just cleaning up, straightening up, throwing stuff away, emptying junk out of cabinets…. Maybe a couple hours. Changed the furnace filter while I was at it.

About 4:30 or so I sat down again in the TV room on the couch, opened the computer and next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes and it was about an hour later. I had fallen so dead asleep, I was disoriented waking up. And I was hungry! I made a little dinner, and then got some estimates on moving stuff to Florida. That will require some thought. A mover would be nice, but would cost about $800 more than a POD. Which is expensive enough, but how to get the furniture from upstairs down into the POD? I have no idea….. My move into this house was about 2 miles, from a small condo, and cost me $300. Will have to work on that issue.

Tomorrow, no time to rest. I have to get to the grocery store, hopefully before the rest of the town. Make a carrot cake, traditional for Easter. Why? Idk…Bunnies like carrots? No idea, but it wouldn’t seem like Easter without it. I usually give most of it away, take it to work, whatever. Then start on the garage. I have a ton of stuff that needs to go to the dump, so I looked up how that works on line. I have to get a permit from the town for $10 and can only take stuff there on Saturday. It looks like at least 2 or 3 trips. UGH.

I talked to my BFF’s husband today, who is like a brother to me, and asked him if he would look at my fireplace and just tell me what I need to replace, because for the life of me I can’t figure it out. He said he’d come over this week sometime. He is truly one of the good guys.

If I weren’t moving to a house a mile from the beach, I’d say I was gonna need a vacation when this is all done. But I will be on a permanent one, lol. I guess it’s just getting the house ready now that seems the big job. Once it’s done and on the market, I only need to keep it that way, not get it that way.

This must be the most boring blog ever, but I’m trying to document what has been done, what has to be done, and this helps me to organize my thoughts. I think I’m going to need at least 2 more weekends before pictures, but no longer. I need the house on the market by the middle of April.

The realtor texted me today that the seller has decided to get the gas hooked up in her name, so we can test the stove (and I’m so excited to have a gas stove, I’ve always had electric) and hot water heater. It was really a small thing, but I’m glad about that. The stove is brand new but not the hot water heater, so will be glad to have it checked out. We had the mold test done today, will get the results back Tuesday or Wednesday and then go in for the final negotiating. So, I have from now til then to kind of relax and let it be.

Tonight, all the emotional kind of angst I’ve had for days seems to have subsided, really disappeared for the time being. I know it’s a huge part of why I’m so tired. When the medium told me I needed to nurture myself, she said, that’s why you’re so tired all the time. I didn’t think I was tired all the time then, but it was like a prophesy! Because man, am I tired now that I’ve let it go. It’s not completely gone I’m sure, but I’m in a way better place. Probably because I wrote so much about it, and then because I spent the day working toward my new dream.

It’s quite a journey, from unconditional love and forgiveness, to betrayal yet again, to understanding, to anger over people trying to involve themselves in something that was none of their business, and then trying to let it all go again. Egos are so destructive. I think I’m pretty much back to the place of unconditional love from an unattached place. Back to the knowing I will always love the man, and also that I can never let him into my life again. I would say, we could be friends only, but really, even that….would be hard. We’ve never been in the same place and been able to keep our hands off one another. So how could we be friends only? Just let it go. I’ll soon be 1500 miles away, and creating a new life. He’ll have his old life, maybe. IDK. Maybe not, maybe she will realize she can never trust him, even if she loves him. Same as I did. It doesn’t matter to me any more. Moving forward. Rising strong.

Going to bed, lol. Love and light.