ouch…

Although I once lost my muchness, I have recently found my sense of pride in myself. It has been tucked away for so long, I did not recognize it at first, but then in a rush, I remembered. It feels good to be accomplishing things that matter to me. The way I have been handling the demise of my marriage, my general attitude toward life itself, my new dedication to my practice, and the weight loss I have worked so hard to achieve. 11 1/2 pounds so far, to be exact… no trifling amount, if I do say so myself. The old me is coming back, even if I am a little worn around the edges, and faded in spots.

However… (must there ALWAYS be a “however”?!) life is not all dancing chipmunks and rosy sunshine. Case in point; this morning, movers came to bring The Professor’s share of our furniture to his home. By “our”, I mean his, er, theirs. This is going to take some getting used to. I thought I was prepared, and calm, and really going to be smiling thru it all, helping even, with the smaller bins and such. So imagine my surprise when it hit me in a rush, like an uppercut straight to the gut. I felt the air woosh out of me, and it was all I could do to sit and sip my coffee with slightly shaking hands, as they chatted and laughed thru what was the 4th most painful moment of my life. Men are such different creatures than women, but I digress.

After they left, I mopped up melted snow from the floors, vacuumed and lit a few candles to clear out the musty air that comes from taking apart furniture. I went downstairs to straighten up a bit, move the beanbag into the corner with a small table and lamp. This is where his desk used to sit, carpet still indented, bits of paper and a pen scattered on the floor. The flood of pain engulfing me was palpable, and I cried my heart out, down there on the cold floor. I really thought I was past this nonsense, but emotions took over, and I was inconsolable. I thought about calling Tangee or my mother, but was sobbing so hard, I could not talk. I cried for my past, my future, my dead dreams and the unfairness of it all. I cried in anger, pain and confusion. I cried until I simply could not cry anymore, all the tears were gone.

It is cathartic, really, to let yourself go that far; to just let loose everything you did not even know you had in you. After washing my face, I drank some cold water and assessed the damage. The house IS a bit empty, but that will be rectified tomorrow between 8-11am. There are open spaces, but I can re-arrange our belongings, (mine and the foxlings’) creating a new space that will, over time, begin to feel normal. His shoes are gone, but really, I bitched about them being in a messy pile for years. My room is the challenge; having been “ours” for so long, thinking in “mine” is a little too weird to deal with right now. So I will just think about it tomorrow. Hmm, maybe Scarlett was onto something.

There are already small changes that bring a smile to my face. The dark, large furniture has been replaced with smaller items in milky shades of cream and whitewash, brightening the whole room. Less furniture makes the space seem more open and inviting. The buffet is now in MY bedroom, against the window. It is just the perfect height to offer a few ferns some sunshine, and my thoughtful daughter gifted me with a certificate for several plants of my choosing. Now, if only I can get him to come over and change out the rods and put up my shabby chic curtains. =)

The point in all of this, is that no matter who says what, there are times that you, as an adult, simply are NOT in control of your own life. Sometimes, circumstances shift, and we are left with something that does not even remotely resemble our happy ending. But with a lot of work, tears and loving-kindness to everyone involved, you just might be able to create something that you are proud of, no matter how trivial it may seem to anyone not walking in your shoes.

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