Everything must die in order to be reborn

We moved! We survived! I had thought moving with an almost 6 month old would be incredibly difficult, but it wasn't too bad. Julian is such a good teacher. He has always been easy going - happy in the old apt, happy there as chaos unfolded and we began to move bigger stuff out on Friday, happy in the new place with so much more space, and happy as everything is still a mess but slowly coming together. I tried to move a lot of the little stuff last week while Josh was away in VT, and on Friday and Saturday Josh took 5 trips in a van to move the bigger stuff while I watched the baby. Moving is physically exhausting but it's also mentally and emotionally exhausting too. I could tell we'd all outgrown our old space and needed something different. At the same time it's hard to let go of what is familiar, even if it's unhealthy. This new place is a ton of space for me and the baby, even for me the baby and Josh when he is here, but it's just what we need. I can breathe again. The week leading up to the move I couldn't stop crying. Now that I have space and can breathe again I'm slowly processing all the signs the Universe has been sending me and I am starting to have acceptance around the fact that everything must die in order to be reborn - or at least that's what the Universe seems to be telling me. This break or separation between Josh and I needed to happen. Julian's arrival - but truly his presence in my womb, even before he arrived in this world - shifted the energy between he and I and like when a fault splits and an earth quake happens, that began to happen to us. When we finally talked about it and he mentioned a separation rather than trying to fix the situation, I was thrown for a loop. I so wanted to just put a band aid on the situation. I don't think I could see anything else or get a clear perspective because I had been living in that energy in that apartment for so long. The week leading up to the move I was so so sad. I couldn't stop crying and just wished Josh was moving in with us as our happy little family but wishing wasn't making it happen. I just wanted to say something or him say something and boom, it's fixed. It didn't happen. Sue Jones, a lovely yogi mother and friend of mine posted on her Facebook "All things end" and this voice inside me said NOOOOO they just change, shift, but they don't end. The day of the move on Friday we waited for a funeral procession at a light as we went to pick up the van. Josh texted a pic of a black cat that just walked into our old apartment as he was loading stuff up in the van. There was a beautiful full moon the night we moved and Julian was also born on the night of a gorgeous full moon. I thought of the story of a good friend of ours who when her daughter was born years ago, split from her husband and when they got remarried 8 years later she spoke of how it was like who they were before was dead - was gone. All of these signs pointing to death, to things ending, to shifts and change. It was impossible to ignore. On Saturday after mostly everything was over I took one last ride to the old apt by myself, empty now, to do one last cleaning. As I cleaned the apartment, I thought of all the memories. I could be sad but I didn't want the energy of regret, of loss and instead began to say thank you. Thank you for when I moved in 2007 and needed space after a break up. Thank you for keeping a roof over my head while I quit my job and began teaching yoga full time. Thank you for being a part of meeting Josh and falling head over heels in love. Thank you for being the place Julian was conceived, where he spent his first months as a newborn. I cleaned the space saying thank you and leaving it with good energy for whoever crosses the threshold next. We will always be in that place - because we hold those memories close to our heart, whether happy or sad. Physically we can't erase all of our DNA and believe me when you have a baby, you leave a lot of it wherever you live in the form of breastmilk poop and pee! So as I embrace this new space and fall in love with it and my new neighborhood I trust that someday when I leave here I'll be saying thank you as well. I am trusting that being here requires the death and breaking of whatever was before. Julian himself is not the same baby he was in the old apt and Josh and I aren't the same people either. I am realizing now that we need to start from the beginning. We need to look into each others eyes and see each other - separate from our story. The story before we met, the story of how we met, the story of how we ended. If we can do that, we can move forward. It doesn't mean we forget but we don't stay stuck there. If Julian asks someday, I'll tell him it was a challenging time. I'll also tell him these are the times character is discovered - masks are dropped - and you get down to what is real. This is the unveiling of a me I want to stay with - a person who is dying and being reborn every single day. It's been a long time since I've had a consistent meditation practice but I seem to remember that being very much a part of it - the acceptance, perhaps realization that we are dying and being reborn all the time. Today I heard a beautiful song which made me think of Josh and our situation and this idea of dying and being reborn. It's called Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars. Here are the lyrics and a link to the song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y-6EwdDiopQ You only know what I want you to I know everything you don't want me to Oh your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine You think your dreams are the same as mine Oh I don't love you but I always will Oh I don't love you but I always will Oh I don't love you but I always will I always will I wish you'd hold me when I turn my back The less I give the more I get back Oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise I don't have a choice but I'd still choose you Oh I don't love you but I always will I always will

A love affair

It's Tuesday night. It's the last Tuesday night I'll spend in this apartment I've lived in for 5 years. On Friday night I'll be spending my first night in the new place. I took a drive over there today to drop off some things and though it doesn't feel like home yet, it's a place I can breathe in. There is so much space. This made me both happy and sad. I feel I need this space right now and it's clear Julian needs space as he's becoming more aware of his surroundings and wanting to explore them. Sad because it's a space for a family and I don't really feel like Julian and I are a family right now, I don't feel Josh Julian and I are a family right now. It's a space Josh had found and had thought to be perfect for us. I agreed and envisioned our family growing here and now I just don't know what it's going to look like. I keep reminding myself this is a good thing because I can create that with Julian and perhaps the three of us can create it together. Josh has said that we are still a family. Yes, it is true a child bonds two people together for life. This to me is not what makes a family. This is clear because when I look at the families in my life, my yoga family is one of my closest, and there is no blood that ties us together. Families love unconditionally. Families support. Families listen. Families are perhaps most of all important united. I don't feel united with Josh. I feel I am Julian's mother, he is Julian's father, but our family remains to be seen. I was looking at old photos of he and I today and I was struck by how happy we were. When you go through a break up or a rough spot in a relationship, you ask yourself - was I ever really happy? The answer is yes, most of the time. As I looked through these photos you could see where the distance started to come in - and where suddenly there were no more photos of us together. This happened around my pregnancy. A good friend said today that pregnancy and the resulting baby is a new love affair for the two people involved. This love affair, this falling in love with your child, can result in the falling out of love with the other person. This made so much sense to me. Josh and I both fell in love with Julian - completely - before he was even here. Yet it seems we have fallen out of love with each other. I don't know how we got here. It baffles me. I thought I had enough love to go around. Isn't that what I have learned through the work I've done and my yoga practice? Well, it seems I still have some learning to do. And then my questioning mind says, well how can I teach yoga if I have no love to give? But I do. Some days I go there beat up and bruised emotionally and I begin to teach and the love comes pouring out. I give and I receive. I don't know where Josh and I got stuck and are continuing to get stuck but my teaching at least shows me that yes - it is possible to spread the love around. Josh texted at one point today that he misses Julian. My heart sank that he didn't text he misses us. Yet then I thought, do I miss him? How can I miss him when he hasn't even been around enough to miss? It's sad, isn't it? And he can't miss me because I haven't been around enough to miss either. We've both been consumed in this other love affair, our son. All of this gets me thinking way way back to childhood. I remember finding out my name, Amanda, means worthy of love. I'd read that and smile thinking well people have to love me then! I didn't understand then that worthy of love means the love is already within me - it has been given already. It is mine to give freely. I birth this amazing child who needs me, who needs this love, and I give and I give and I give till I think I can't give anymore and there's still more to give. I've never known a love like this. I forget about the person whose love created this child with me. I forget that I have all the love I need within me to last a lifetime. And I feel empty. I feel lost. I feel lonely. Julian continues to grow. There will be a time if this continues between Josh and I where I will begin to know what he knows and he will know what I know. I will know what it's like to be without my child for days, possibly a week - he will know what it's like to care for him by yourself for days, a week. Julian will know what it's like to have his stuff in two different places, he will know what it's like to possibly have a step-mom, step-dad, half-brother, half-sister. These are things I think are in the future if they are happening - the far future - but they are things that will come to pass if Josh and I don't do the work. This is not what I wanted for my son. This is not what I wanted for Josh or I. I keep asking myself, why doesn't he want to do the work? I suggested couples counseling and Josh had said no. Perhaps it's possible we are doing the work - this is the work - and it has nothing to do with anything we might do together in a counselors office. If I'm in the moment, then it is the work, and that's that. Trust the process, I hear all the time. I have so many nights I want to text him, call him, talk talk talk but I often come on here and write. I can feel he has shut a door to me, though I can also feel it's not shut completely. I could bang and scream and try to kick it down but what would that do? I can only come here to sort it out in my words, let them speak for themselves, and he will come out from behind the door when he is ready. I have had so many folks reach out and thank me for being so honest and sharing my story, many of them surprised Josh has not said anything about me sharing it this publicly. I sometimes forget that people out there read this. I forget just how powerful ones story can be. I'm going to keep writing, I hope you'll keep listening and we'll see where this takes us. It's been a love affair unlike any other I've imagined!

It's ok to be angry

I am quite angry these days. And not at anyone in particular. Just angry. I believe it's deep rooted and has been with me for some time. So I'm sitting in it, doing a pretty good job of not deflecting it, and writing about it. Here's a recent poem: My practice brings up much fear anger and sadness these days Yet I still step onto my mat and breathe The breath encourages me to keep going I sense this fear anger and sadness has been with me for some time It's what prevents me from fully seeing another I feel lately I've never truly looked into your eyes or seen you until now Or seen myself I want to look away but I keep looking The voices in my head quiet a little more My heart beats stronger I notice the sensation of our feet touching under the table while we watch a movie Something is shifting within me Something is shifting around me My relationships with others seem different Even if no words are spoken I try to let silence come For in that lies understanding I'm tired of talking I don't know anything I must trust in everything I'm allowing myself to be angry When perhaps I never allowed myself this feelibg before The allowing will bring happiness Resistance kept me in the dark It feels good to be honest And still be loved

The Power of Detachment

There is a calm when you let go. There is a calm when you surrender. There is a calm when you recognize while you may not be happy with what is, it is what is. So after two weeks of crying and a crazy roller coaster ride things are starting to settle. The purge has happened and now comes action. I am not saying there won't be sad days or crying but there is a grounded feeling that comes with surrender. I have and am surrendering. A friend sent me an email recently on the power of detachment and this really hit home for me. A light bulb went off, so to speak. I have always been someone who gives, who connects, who attaches. Easily. I don't think this is a bad quality but I always found myself getting lost eventually and having a hard time staying grounded when those I were attached or connected to were suffering. The art of detachment says to remain detached is to remain within your own power and your place in this world as a spiritual entity. This resonates with me now, where in the past to be detached I would think meant to be disconnected, heartless, or cruel. I am beginning to see the ways I've given up my power when I've been around those close to me who are suffering. When this would happen, I'd become unhappy, less passionate, less grounded, fearful and uncertain. I like this idea of practicing detachment around others to stay within your own power and thus remain more connected, instead of disconnected. I believe by doing this I'd be a better listener, I'd take more action for myself, lead by example, instead of try to fix something outside myself. I'm going to work on this. It begins with accepting that the future is uncertain. This is actually a reality already, but something I've always resisted. I am moving into what was to be my first home as a family for Josh, Julian and I. Now it will be my home with Julian. Josh will be welcome there of course to see his son, but he will be living elsewhere. I've agreed that space between us is better right now though every time I say this is what I want I have fear around it. Perhaps that's a good thing? I think if I thought back anything I've ever truly wanted has had fear around it. It's not going to be easy but it's going to be ok. Time has proven that to me already with previous struggles. I've got this, keeps popping into my mind. And interestingly enough, this summer has brought a lot of separation into my life. Friends ending relationships, people moving, and just within these last two weeks two relationships of friends I wouldn't have suspected ending, have ended. Or rather are changing. That's how I like to think of it. Separation which is in itself detachment creates space for great change and possibility.

Honest hell

Today has been a rough day. The last two weeks have been a roller coaster since Josh told me he loves me, but isn't in love with me. I brought up the conversation because I could sense a disconnect. It had been there for some time and my way of dealing with it was criticism, judgment, nagging I believe because I was scared and felt I wasn't being listened to. It's an unhealthy pattern I resort to when feelings are coming up and all I want to say is I love you, I'm here for you, tell me what's going on? Josh was never much one for talking about his feelings but I didn't always create a supportive environment. Well parenthood softened our hearts and when I asked him what's up, he shared. I thought it would be a rough patch, a bump in the road, but he seems to be thinking he needs space. I feel he's made up his mind without even talking it out or giving us a chance and that I find cruel. I think of the many months he's been feeling this way and how painful that must be. My heart breaks. I look at my son and cry. I have people who love me and have reached out already to offer support. I am blessed. I know I'll be ok however this goes and so will Julian because he has a mother and father who love him so much. I realize the work I've done and you can only make yourself happy - take care of your needs. So I will do that. Yet my love for Josh has not died, I don't believe it ever will, and I hope he finds what he is looking for. I'd be lying if I didn't hope our family would be whole again. Finding myself in a place I didn't expect to be all I can do is just be. I have always been honest in the face of my struggles and it's made me a warrior. I'll continue to do so. I'll never close my heart to the beauty and love I know awaits me.

The in between

So the in between ain't fun but it's where the work happens. I'm trudging through, daily highs and lows. Writing in my journal, writing poetry. Here is tonight: I'm at a loss Disbelieving how I got here Unsure of where I'm going I took you for granted I didn't see you when you were allowing yourself to be seen What I see now is someone who's hurting and his actions don't speak to the man he is I'm in the dark Searching for your light When I should be searching for my own I said you don't think you deserve happiness It's me who yearns to feel gratitude for all my many blessings Who still feels broken after all these years Who feels I've once again lost what is given I still have it but can't see it within myself I never thought I'd come this far I never thought I'd lose so much

I step onto my yoga mat in black these days

Going through some stuff as we all do.. Moving Sept 1.. Excited but feeling lost as I realize it's been baby baby baby and my relationships with myself and Josh have been neglected. So connection needs to begin again, with me first. So many emotions, so many thoughts swirling around the best I can do is get on my mat and try to breath and try to put the words into poetry where I first expressed myself at the age of 11. So here goes: I step onto my yoga mat in black these days The color of my clothes reflects the color of the mat I gave you when our souls crossed The color of long days which turn into long nights Lonely endless This mat has become where I practice, where I let myself falter and crumble Under the weight of all the sorrow Until I step off and a blue eyed boy reminds me all is not lost I wear my black converse I wore in 8th grade They make me happy I am reminded of the girl who had spunk and passion Who wore these converse with her white lace dress to her music recital She was bold and daring and all things free When did I lose my passion When did I begin to feel less than And shifted from knowing me to Trying to shape what can’t be wrought as we are all perfect The shoe either fits as if it’s made for you or your toe bumps into the top and gets crushed I never thought I would be where I am I never thought it would be this hard I’m terrible at being ok with not being ok I step onto my yoga mat in black these days