The better sort of list…

Everyone is all about bucket lists… I made a beautiful one last year, to complete before I was 40. Losing my family and way of life shot my list all to hell, so I thought instead I’d make a list of the 100 BEST things I’ve done in my 40 long years…

  1. skinny dipping in a natural body of water.
  2. dancing in the rain.
  3. watching fireworks, on a hilltop, set to Bach.
  4. My first time at the ocean, a glorious week on the Oregon coast.
  5. going in to NYC to see the tree at Rockafellar center.
  6. Swinging with the kids I worked with, at Hope House, on a hot summer day with the public sprinklers on.
  7. Snowcones with my kids.
  8. Working at Hope House and the amazing, life changing relationships I made there.
  9. Getting my nose pierced.
  10. the tattooes I’ve carefully chosen.
  11. I met Colin Firth.
  12. falling in love with the culture and pop culture of South Korea.
  13. Working at OBI and the dear relationships I made there.
  14. That I’ve always been one to forgive and try again. No exceptions.
  15. Seeing Starship on the Santa Cruz beach. It wasn’t Starship, but the beach, air and company.
  16. My first upside down rollercoaster, in the rain, in St. Louis.
  17. that I learned to appreciate music.
  18. adopting.
  19. The Chvrches concert. It was how concerts should feel.
  20. New Mexico sunsets.
  21. Reconnecting with my high school BFF and being one who demonstrated unconditional, sacrificial love.
  22. Being stranded in an airport and befriending a total stranger.
  23. knowing Jared Glenn.
  24. Loving with my whole heart, even if that has never really paid off.
  25. Understanding the value of true family, whether there’s blood relation there or not.
  26. catching live crabs and cooking them on the beach.
  27. the first time I held hands with a boy, no feeling compares.
  28. seeing my niece be born.
  29. the moment I met my husband and knew we would be married.
  30. My first DMB show.
  31. The secret P!ATD show in Boise, when Gen was little, complete with awesome treatment, tv interviews, etc.
  32. Attending a wedding with an MTV film crew.
  33. the first time I loped on a horse.
  34. The gift of knowing and loving my grandfather.
  35. My dog Paisley’s love for me. Life affirming.
  36. My grandmother’s chicken and dumplings.
  37. When my stomach finally eased after my first major bout with sea sickness.
  38. The week long backpacking trip I went on, when I was in 8th grade.
  39. Seeing a large meteor shower.
  40. Seeing Wicked on broadway.
  41. The time a bear went through our camp while we slept under the stars.
  42. walking at the ocean, feet in sand and sea.
  43. The first time I body surfed.
  44. Genny’s Twilight impressions, when she was younger.
  45. Learning to give facials.
  46. any inside joke, with my husband.
  47. Staying at the Regent Beverly Wiltshire.
  48. Gen’s 6th birthday, in the hotel on Easter. it was really fun and a nice connection moment for C & I, with midnight cake and snuggles.
  49. Christmas with my husband and all three of my kids.
  50. The twin foster babies we had.
  51. When my husband baked me a lemon cake for my birthday. It was one of the most beautiful, thoughtful moments I’ve had with anyone.
  52. Tummy slamming, with Melanie, when we were little.
  53. My cousin Kyle. He really changed my childhood.
  54. My pet turtle Rosie, who made the journey from my house to my grandmother’s, a few blocks away, and back.
  55. My german shepherd/husky (when I was a kid) named Betsy.
  56. White water rafting.
  57. The way autumn smells, in Idaho.
  58. That huge, terrifying storm we had in Kansas, when I was 17.
  59. Stars, porches and conversation.
  60. My California girls trip, in 2001.
  61. Alicia Michelle.
  62. Petting an Elephant at the Portland Zoo.
  63. The San Diego Valentines day getaway I had with Chw in 2002.
  64. bacon wrapped dates in Illinois. Delicious dinner and lovely evening conversation.
  65. The Blake hotel in Chicago. Stunning.
  66. The gigantic moon the Christmas of 1999 in Phoenix.
  67. My bus ride to Kentucky, from New Mexico.
  68. The summer I went in a semi to Los Angeles.
  69. The look on Chw’s face with his surprise 40th birthday. Making him happy was always my favorite thing ever, there was no one more deserving.
  70. Hours and hours of playing Killer Bunnies.
  71. Girl’s day on Make your Own Holiday day.
  72. Being published in The Pink Project.
  73. the living room conversation I had in 92. It was terrifying and safe to be known so well.
  74. saving myself from my sexually abusive step dad.
  75. the Detroit blackout in 2003.
  76. the magic of my first plane ride to Michigan, amidst the turmoil surrounding me.
  77. My grandparents shed, my safe haven.
  78. playing “Mermaids” in Monique’s pool.
  79. Seeing Chw & Gen when i got home from the LA nightmare.
  80. My first trip to NYC. Tiffany & Co, Central Park & FAO Shwartz.
  81. the first time I shot with my Canon.
  82. My one and only healthy ultrasound.
  83. Whenever I hug my son.
  84. Face to Face conversations with my daughter Amanda.
  85. Amanda’s wedding. Helping, being there for her and getting her through it, the father/daughter dance and how stunning she looked.
  86. Waking up for 6 months of beautiful mornings, in the smoky mountains.
  87. The most delightful conversation imaginable, with Emma Thompson.
  88. Witnessing both the sun rising on the US east coast and the sun setting on US west coast. Different days, but still a gift.
  89. email corresponding with my grandmother’s favorite soap opera actress, after my grandmother died.
  90. Chw and his little figurine for me after I had my first real operation in 1999. It’s never meant more for me to see anyone in all my life.
  91. hearing strange sounds and learning my cat, whom I didn’t even know was pregnant, had just delivered one single kitten, who looked nothing at all like her. It felt like a miracle.
  92. A youth that included white water rafting, snow tubing, ice blocking and casually floating the river. It was a blessed adolescence for sure.
  93. late night dance parties, being surrounded by the coolest of people you know.
  94. Eerily quiet Chinatown, in San Francisco. Exhilarating.
  95. Becoming sisters with my sister Sherri, who is my heart sister but I know there isn’t anyway we could be more genuinely real.
  96. Being Julie’s heart daughter. She’s been gone a decade, this year, and I am still in awe of her love for me.
  97. heart pounding risks…
  98. following my instinct/intuition, and learning something anyway, when it may not work out.
  99. Discovering Chinese massage. It may not be amazing everywhere, but here it is extraordinary.
  100. My relationship with God, learning to blind trust and love through it has been the biggest adventure of my life…

Such Great Heights…

photo-1434871619871-1f315a50efba

One week ago today I turned 40. I’ll get to that in another post because, frankly I need more time. One of the things I did in the forty days leading up to my birthday was attempted to do 40 adventures. (of sorts… since I’m broke, adventure was sometimes a stretch.) My one big adventure was a hot air balloon ride. I didn’t pay for it, I used groupon credit that had been sitting in my account since Christmas when I had to do a large return.

I also didn’t choose this for me. In hindsight I should have really thought about it.

I have this horrible habit of prioritizing the people I care about far above things like my housing, survival, etc. So, when Chw flew here in February, sat in the relationship coach’s office and said we would move towards reconciliation and me coming home- I decided to buy the balloon ride for him. The three dreams he’s had for the entire time I’ve known him have been to own and restore a classic pickup truck, to travel to Germany & to ride in a hot air balloon. I’m powerless with the other two but this I could give him. As a gesture of good will, as an effort in thoughtfulness, etc. See, the plan (that day that he decided this) was that I would be going home during Genny’s spring break, which was last week. The week of my fortieth birthday. I assumed we’d have four hard weeks of effort, work and growth leading up to that. I’ve been in the camp for months of how can we truly fix our relationship with the distance? (The people we’ve met with have asked the same question.) Over those four weeks though, what happened was Chw saying no, then yes, then no, then maybe. It got to the point where I felt like I was going to have to beg and plead with him to accept me, and truthfully I’m better than that. It got to the point where he decided he was a martyr and that if it happened, it would destroy his life. I deserve better than that too. I was a really great wife to him before my depression hit late last spring. I prioritized him, lifted him up and loved him fiercely. And so, as he went about those four weeks of frustration, I kept that balloon ride for him. I had faith that things would work out, and I still wanted to bring him comfort, build him up and love him. Truthfully though, I did regret buying it towards the end as it lost its luster.

By the time my birthday rolled around, I did not want to go with him. Originally it had seemed so poignant to be going home that week, to be granting him a dream in exchange for martyring himself in marriage, because our 22nd wedding anniversary was also that week. Everything would work out so poetically… Instead, I had the worst birthday in my history of birthdays, the worst week I may have ever known (in many ways) and was stuck going in the stupid balloon because he didn’t get someone else to go.

If you’ve never done a hot air balloon ride before, let me give you a head’s up. It is very couply. There’s a champagne toast about love, life together and so on. You stand so close to your partner, which was fine for the other couples in the basket as it was cold and they snuggled. When your husband tells you he is not at all attracted to you, seems repulsed when you cry hugging him at the airport and quickly backs away,  and does not want any form (emotional or physical) of intimacy with you- the very close proximity in the basket is excruciatingly uncomfortable. When he treats you like you don’t exist, when you are surrounded by a very elaborate proposal, a stunning sunrise and another couple celebrating their 20th wedding anniversary- you seriously contemplate jumping from the basket 800 feet in the sky.

Tears stung my eyes nearly the entire time. He enjoyed his dream coming true and truthfully I was glad. I was glad that, in the life where he believes he owes me nothing and I am his worst case scenario, I was able to give him something good. That when our chapter is over, he is able to say Well, at least she did this for me, though we all know there will still be something wrong with that too.

One of my favorite love songs of all time, lyrically, is Such Great Heights. It stirs my heart deeply. It always has. Up there, from that amazing viewpoint of height, I looked at those couples with us. At the beauty of their lives, in that moment. I looked down over the valley where everything was visible. I saw the college where we met, the church where we were married and the thousands of places we had dated, laughed, loved and lived amongst. Every direction held some significant thing to say Good bye to, as I stood so close to the man who swears he does not hate me, yet acts like he’d rather I were dead.

From that height I was able to realize we were flying over hundreds of houses with broken families, healing relationships, divorces, abuses, depressions, illnesses and it goes on and on. It numbed me to the core to see that reality. As personal as my husband’s behavior is to me and our kids, it’s just one in a million shattering situations out there. It becomes a number. Even the very idea of a midlife crisis, which everyone thinks he is having, is something so common that it becomes not very special. My marriage ending, my family imploding, these are more  common and normal than if we’d tried to save it. From up there, looking down, this made me so tragically sad.

Spread out beneath me was our life together. It’s beginning and it’s ending. And standing next to me was the man, obliviously in denial of how huge that is to the lives of those immediately involved and yet how pathetically average it is to the world below.

What I’ve learned…

7x4dokulu9e-jose-murillo

With the close of February pretty much sitting in our laps, I’m forced to reflect on all it has contained. It has held the tragic death of someone eternally dear to me, an intense visit with my husband, moving in to my sister’s home, working with life coaches (which is an AMAZING process all on its own) the start of my minor string of 40 adventures before my birthday and so many millions of moments of greatness…

It’s time to focus on what I learned this month… The good, the bad and the ugly…

1.) that lesson Inside Out was trying to teach us, but I did not quite grasp: Our core memories have good AND bad. It’s what makes them real and raw. When we only want to focus on one side, we will easily see a pluthera of that light or darkness. We have to be careful.

2.) For this stage of life, living with my sister and her family is really awesome. I’m so grateful!

3.) Too Faced make up is cruelty free. It’s my favorite… HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS???

4.) Just because a movie is a Sundance Winner, (The VVitch) does not make it a great movie. Well done, yes. Interesting inspiration? Sure. Entertaining, moving, or anything else a great film should be? No.

5.) Cafe Zupas is the best lunch out. Ever. In all the world…

6.) We ALL stumble. We ALL fall. We ALL have our strengths, our weaknesses, our inspirations, motivations, etc… It’s up to us how we use them, or whether we wallow in our failures or rise in our strengths. We all need self-discipline, and we will all struggle. No one is exempt and one persons struggle is no worse than another’s.

7.) Having CONNECT as my word of the year was a fitting, is terrifying and it’s only February!

8.) There are best friends, then there are best friends, but best of all there are BEST friends…

9.) Forgiveness is less about forgetting someone’s trespass, and more about choosing to not nestle into resenting it, and moving forward while learning what you can.

10.) Feelings are a choice. NO ONE can hurt your feelings unless you choose for them to. Empowering stuff…

Bonus: 11.) the twix bar on the right is the best…

 

Only the lonely…

photo-1438979315413-de5df30042a1

At my husband’s request, I took down my last two blog posts. While they were not meant to reflect him in a negative light, and I was coming from the place of emotional exhaustion and honesty, he felt they painted him badly…

The irony of all of that is not lost on me, I promise.

I’m stuck in such an uncomfortable place where my feeling don’t matter. Where I’m not meant to be considered. Where maybe the other person didn’t intentionally mean to hurt me so it shouldn’t matter, and where I am tired, convicted and crucified every single time.

I read the other day that I probably didn’t have depression last summer/fall, but instead suffered from loneliness. The entire chapter about this rang so true that I had to sit afterwards and admit that this was entirely possible.

Life is funny. I find myself looking at photos of kayaking, skydiving and all around adventuring and my soul literally yearns to take off on an adventure. I was supposed to be away for the weekend, feet dipping in the icy ocean simply so my soul could exhale and then reset itself, but that didn’t work out and now I honestly feel restless. I long to go, to do something significant. I’m itching to engage with nature. In reality, I’d likely be mauled by a bear and drown in the ocean, so it’s probably better I stay here and engage in the daily practice of feeling like an alien in a land I recognize but do not belong…

Tomorrow is Lent. Every year I give up three things that somehow help me engage with my WofY. {reminder: my word for 2016 is connect.} Every other year, giving up Facebook somehow seems to fit right in with my word. Whenever I’ve done it in the past, it’s fallen over my birthday and so I missed all the birthday love. This year Lent will end the day BEFORE my birthday… So that’s ironically fitting. :) So it’s Facebook, soda (because without intending to, I’ve found I am partaking in fountain soda much more regularly than I wanted) and sleeping past 6 in the morning. If nothing else, I guess I’ll be sleeping through my entire birthday, which is fine by me. I hate them anyway, and this year is bound to take the cake on horrible birthdays… I’m also vowing, this year, to do three things every day, for those 40 days: pray intentionally for my husband and our marriage, do something intentionally selfless, generous and kind for someone else, write for one hour (non-blogging or freelance) every day. If that day’s schedule means I have to wake up at 4:30 to fit it in, I guess that’s what I’ll have to do. I also want to have one real adventure and learn one new thing… Lofty, I know.

We have today, and that’s it. I KNOW I am supposed to make the most of it, but quite often I don’t pay attention to how significant the gift is… It’s a real gift. It’s the best gift, and I don’t want to be that girl on the couch wasting it, because I might emotionally feel like being that girl. I’ll regret it if I go through my life doing what I feel like, because these days what I feel like isn’t going to lead anywhere good…

Wish me luck on my intentional Lent, and journeying boldly and bravely through the 40 day countdown to my 40th birthday, or better yet- join me. :)

The last day…

 

I’d had a plan to leave my husband, in spring. It had been a homework challenge, with counseling. Then it became a “what other choice do I have, if he doesn’t want me?” sort of option, which evolved into an “I want this to happen.” sort of scheme. I had set my deadline so far away because I honestly believed he would step up and proclaim a fight for us. Everyone who really knew me realized this. I just couldn’t utter those words myself because the rejection of the one person who truly, deeply knew me was already destroying me. Once I spoke those words into the world, they were real and if he didn’t, I felt like it would be the death of me.

The last afternoon, before life truly fell apart (and seven days before I no longer had a home or a family) my husband and I had a great afternoon together. We had connected more in the former 15 days than we had in months and I felt filled with hope. I had been out-of-town for a couple of days and I’d missed him so much. I told him as much, when I returned. We went for coffee, shopped a little and sat talking for a long while. It was the sort of conversation filled with laughter, memories, dreams and a thousand other veins of talk that only could be truly made sense of by us- the livers of the life we were in. As the sunlight streamed through the windows of that second floor room where we sat, I felt so overcome with how grateful I was for my life, how deeply I loved that man and how desperately I wanted our marriage to last.

I fell asleep snuggled deep into him, inhaling him and just forcing myself to live in that moment. I had no idea what tomorrow held…

With a fierce punch to the heart, also known as disastrous hind sight, I was smacked with all of this today as I sat for a minute looking back on my Instagram stream. There on that day, in that room, was my daily photo. Because, as we were walking out I knew I’d want to remember it forever. Forever I will…

It’s so hard, with the magic of hindsight-vision, to not simply hate yourself for what you threw away. Regardless of the hows, the whys or the other factors- I had my own responsibility in the situation. While it’s true, I felt (by that time) that I had no choice in the way it all played out- I now see differently. So today, tear-stained and feeling so rebroken, I have to hold on to the memories to soothe the ache, and keep moving forward.