Bridge CC BY NC SA Astrid Westvang
The other day, Shawn asked me what I want to be on “the other side of all this.” I said I didn’t know yet. I mean, the first word that leapt to mind was free — and there is an aspect of casting-off-of-shackles, but there is also a larger part about just returning the focus of what I do to me. It sounds selfish, and perhaps it is, but there are a lot of times when I prefer to just go without having to agree on which way — little things such as what to eat, where to park, or which route to take between A and B. On my own, I can change my mind mid way through; there is no need to reach an agreement or for one side to have to compromise.
Compromise. One of the resentments about our marriage, on both sides, was the feeling that we were each compromising more than we comfortable with. It’s one reason that the marriage no longer felt like it fit. What I wasn’t aware of, was how much Shawn felt like he was compromising, and how far back that went (bottom line? waaaay back.) One recent example? Our current house: I loved it from the start, he did not. For him, that was a giant compromise and one that I became very aware of, after we’d committed to moving. It added a lot of tension. The residual guilt from the realization that the perceived imbalance was something we both felt is something I am working through.
Of course there are other things I am working through. Some as a direct result of the split, some indirect. Basically, I have chosen to take advantage of the fact that in January I cracked my soul open in a very public way and, as one might do when rebuilding after a house fire, I am examining and in some cases changing the contents and layout. This means trying to ditch some bad habits as I build new ones. Doing everything at once seems a little crazy but so far it seems to be a workable approach for me.
Over the weekend, I came across this passage in Zero History by William Gibson, about recovery. It seems very applicable to what I am going through:
You were incomplete when they brought you here. You are somewhat less incomplete now, but your recovery is necessarily a completely organic process. If you are very fortunate, it will continue for the rest of your life. ‘Recovery’ is perhaps a deceptive word for this. You are recovering some aspects of yourself, certainly, but the more important things are things you’ve never previously possessed. Primary aspects of development. You have been stunted, in certain ways. Now you have been given an opportunity to grow.
That opportunity to grow, that is the trick. I’ve been building exercise habits (not yet at the goal, but a big improvement over this time last year), truly exploring spiritual practices (I recently attended a lecture on Celtic Spirituality; at the end of the month I will be attending a workshop on meditation and walking the labyrinth), and being more open to new and forgotten experiences (year of yes!).
I’ve also been trying to consciously address things like how quickly I jump to anger (often by way of frustration and/or impatience), working to let go of ideas and things I no longer need, and really taking a long hard look at what I have been doing as habit versus what I want to do.
- I have always been independent, but I want to feel strength in that independence again, rather than tension because of it.
- I want to be more social, without being drained; a tricky piece to balance
- I think I want to sing and dance and maybe even act again — I stopped performing, around the time Kiddo came along and I am not sure why.
- I want to get back to creating without feeling that I have to create for profit or for anyone’s amusement other than my own.
- I want to live with less stuff (yeah, this is difficult); I’d like to try to live up to William Morris’ advice, “Have nothing in your homes that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.“
In short, I want to find balance in my life and I want to be happy and healthy — and right now, that’s as close as I can come to defining what I want to be on the other side.