After The Affair

I was talking with my therapist today. It was exhausting. Almost 60 years of life to look at…some of it not pretty but a lot of it brilliantly played and enjoyed.

After the three years of B’s affair and the “almost” demise of my marriage it has been difficult at times to believe that B has changed and that our life together is stronger too.  The doubts that plague me have swirled fast and furious especially in the first six months after the storm.  The calm surety I have been searching for has been more elusive and more difficult to trust when I see it. Sometimes it appears to me that my life is only an illusion and I am always checking to make sure what I see is real. That process is exhausting and life-robbing. It is not life affirming nor is it increasing my sense of stability.

As I come upon 11 months of “knowing” about the affair I do feel hope and real joy again. The anguish and pain are slowly diminishing. Parts of me have been re-born and parts re-shaped into a better part of my whole. I have grown, explored and examined parts of my life that I saved until “LATER.” Yet, conveniently, LATER never came… until the affair… when I was forced to pick up the pieces and try to rebuild myself and my marriage. And now, believe it or not, at times I am even thankful for B’s affair because it has allowed both of us to evolve and create something different within ourselves and within our relationship. We are rebuilding on something that resembles bedrock and our foundation is no longer sinking in quicksand.

Another tidbit. For years I have not dreamed. Not once. EVER. But in the last month I have had three vivid dreams about B and “the other woman.” All involved water. In the last one, right before I woke up, an image of a goddess came to me and she held her hand out and said, ” Stop looking, It will come to you if needed.” The imagine was vivid, profound and unlike anything I have ever expeirenced before.

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My therapist tells me this is a good thing. That my psyche is clearing things out and washing them away.

I have also been busy creating my therapist provoked artwork. A recent picture is of a bird’s nest filled with various objects along with the words: LEARN, REST and FAITH interwoven into it. She says these are important words for me to concentrate on.

“What is faith?” she asks.

ANSWER

“It is the essence of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. Can you see the wind? No? But you can see or hear the evidence of it in the sound of the wind chime or the rustling of the leaves. So REST in the hope that you have for your marriage and have FAITH in the evidence that you are seeing that things are changing for the better. Believe your goddess who is telling you to stop looking for trouble. and to believe that you can LEARN from your past, REST in the comfort of now, and have  FAITH in your future.

AND THEN SHE SAYS

“What if you get the stability you have been searching for your entire life? Will you see it and embrace it or will you run from it?”

GOOD QUESTION…AND FOR NOW…I DON’T HAVE AN ANSWER.

I would like to think that I have matured suffienctly to embrace all that has come and will come my way. Yet, at other times, I am just not sure. Sometimes I still want to just slide down the rabbit hole into another time and place.

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Yet, no matter what I choose I know that I am strong enough and wise enough to handle it because I have lived through the worst year of my life and not just survived but thrived!

 

Making Things My Own

We own a rental house. It is where I will be moving when we separate. I could stay here but why? This is a bigger house with a pool and upkeep costs that I will just not be able to afford.

I will miss this house. I have painted every room and hung things just so. I have stood on the roof and painted the shutters. I have planted grapes, tons of multi-colored lilies, and some very unusual plants. I have a lot of memories here and have put so much of myself into our family and home. Yet, it will also be a relief to leave it and have a place that is mine alone. A place that I can re-do just like I have re-done myself in these past two-and-one-half years trying to avoid the “maybe divorce” that appears now to have been inevitable.

The other day I “visited” where I will be living. I snuck up to the back fence (which is falling down) and looked through. It brought back a few memories of when we lived here previously and as those thoughts appeared I smiled with happiness and appreciation of what was. But as I was standing there I mostly dreamed of what is to come.

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That playhouse we built in the backyard…well I am going to paint it violet…or maybe candy apple red… and I’ll add an upper porch on which I will drink my coffee in the morning and swing in the double swing that will hang beneath it in the early evening. I may also add a small studio in which I will do my writing undisturbed except for the call of the birds and an occasional bark from the pooch.

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It is a large yard so I will plant more David Austin roses, construct pathways and vegetable boxes, and place a fountain or two. This backyard will become my haven and an expression of who I am today. It will take a lot of work but getting to this place in my life has too. It has taken getting my hands dirty, tossing old ideas into the trash, and doing a lot of weeding of my soul in order to bloom. And bloom I will. For dreams, like gardens, can come alive if they are given the proper care and nourishment.  And because I have been sifting through the soil of my soul I am now ready to plant new ideas, new people, and my kind of beauty into my life once again. Sure, things will be a challenge as I go forth as a single person nearing 60 yo and you bet at times I am scared out of my whits but I also know that sometimes you just need to get a little dirt under your nails and drive a few nails to renew both yourself and your garden. It is my hope that we can both thrive.

 

 

Dreams Of The Past And The Future

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When we were young B and I could never have enough projects. They kept us busy and talking to one another about the different aspects that we needed to consider when we were working together. We tore out the kitchen of a cabin we bought, we built a house in the mountains, we started a winery and built the building to go with it. We were busy, tired, and often content with the manner in which our lives were progressing.

These days B is done with projects. He wants nothing to do with them. I suspect some of this stems from having to leave behind our hard work for others to enjoy when we did not yet have that pleasure. Moving for B’s career made us give up some of these comforts and dreams. Not being able to experience the joy of our labors made it more difficult for B to keep up the hard work, determination, and faith that building requires. And I think that stress at work has limited his enthusiasm for projects.

However, recently we decided to sell a property that we have owned for about seven years. This has entailed ripping our a kitchen and installing new cabinets, countertops and backsplash. We have had to repaint the entire place put up new lighting fixtures and vents in all the rooms. It has been a huge undertaking but it has paid off with some unexpected dividends…a closeness that has been missing and the chance to re-visit all of the amazing things we have accomplished together. This isn’t to say that everything is perfect. It isn’t. But it is nice to experience some of our “old selves” again and it is nice to be engaged with one another once more. I have missed this over the past several years. I have missed just being with B and watching him sweat as we struggle to hang a cabinet. I miss having dreams which are flavored with the smell of hard work and the sweetness of a job well done. I have forgotten how just spending time together made me feel connected and how my admiration for my husband would soar when all we worked for came to fruition. And it occurs to me that the respect I feel for this man, who, when exhausted, keeps giving his all, is immense and inspires me to do my best too.

I wish we could work together more. Find new projects to create together. I don’t know that it has to be building but something… anything that will plant new seeds to understanding, respect and appreciation.  I thirst for finding commonalities again with the man that I love. I understand why B wants to lay down his hammer but for me these undertakings  that we embark on together give me a sense of hope and purpose. And even though I can barely move after a day of hard work I would gladly down numerous Tylenol just to spend quality time with B once again. For when we work together I see deeper more personal glimpses of the man I fell in love with and I hope he sees the same in me and it also feels as if there is nothing that we cannot accomplish.

 

Books And Fear

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Every once in a while you read a book and think with a smile, shudder, or frown, “Hey, I know that character!”

A Man Called Ove was such a book for me. The main character, Ove, was really my father in disguise. He was a man I knew well and as I read further into the story gained insight into what kind of man my  real life father is and why he operates the way he does. Sometimes these discoveries made me happy and some made me sad but it brought to light things that I was able to put under the microscope and examine in a way that I had not been able to before. I have a real appreciation for books that are able to do that. Those books that can bring clarity into some part of our own lives are amazing. They contain stories teach us, provide insight and make us think of our own experiences in new and different ways. That kind of writing is rare and oh-so-special.

I am a good short story writer. That is why I write for magazines. But I dream of being a novelist. A good one. I dream of writing the type of book where it takes six months for you to get it after putting it on the reserved list at the library. A book that is meaningful. A novel with characters that the reader connects with from the first page and cry with at the last.

I have a half-dozen half-started novels in binders and on my computer. One day I would like to finish just one but I find that I have difficulty sustaining the thoughts/actions of my characters after many chapters. And so I stop. Thinking about them, developing them and challenging myself to work harder to figure out exactly who they are. Because I am afraid. Afraid to push myself harder. Afraid to commit. Afraid to find out who I am so I can find out who they are. Afraid of adding anything else to my plate.

I am afraid and I am ashamed of this fear for it is unlike me to tuck my tail between my legs and run. But run I do…I sprint back to the safety of what I do well instead of  walking towards the unknown outcome of my dreams.  I suffer for it and settle because of it. Fear binds me and wraps its chains around me and I don’t even struggle to break free.

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