The questions in church today were "How can I grow?" "What can I give?" "What can I celebrate?
During the service what came to me is that the origin of all forms of self-loathing rises out of my perception of self as separate from the divine. And that what I can do in the face of that is to surrender to being an instrument of divine expression. To view myself as a unique expression of universal consciousness, group mind, love-intelligence - I still don't know exactly what to call it (and perhaps it doesn't matter.) To live as if this is true - whether or not it is - because I'm freed by that perspective to live a better life.
What does this mean?
For me, it means that everything is as it is and that to resist is a waste of life and a waste of energy. So rather than trying to fix what is wrong I can embrace what is so and generate, or create my life from what I want for the future rather than from what has transpired in the past.
More briefly, to be pro rather than anti.
Pro good health rather than anti-fat.
Pro bring-out-my-best rather than anti-flaws.
Pro peace rather than anti-war.
Pro love and tolerance rather than anti-Republican.
Pro expression, compassion and personal responsibility rather than anti-conflict.
Pro creating a healthy, happy relationship rather than anti-betrayal.
Pro connection, growth and vulnerability rather than anti-perfectionism.
I can grow by surrendering over and over again to my true divine nature; surrendering to my path with the grace and strength of water to the river bed; and remaining but a loving witness to others on their paths.
I can give by joyfully and unabashedly sharing myself as a unique expression of the divine; practicing love and compassion for all; and understanding fear as a manifestation of ego and letting it be.
I can celebrate that I am alive in this moment.
Showing posts with label learning to have a strong self-definition. Show all posts
Showing posts with label learning to have a strong self-definition. Show all posts
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Still a long way to go
I was feeling cranky today because Husband was going to play his usual Sunday basketball game this morning, and then wanted to go watch the Celtics game at a bar with a friend. Earlier in the week he'd told some friends that their daughter could come over and hang out with us for the day, and we'd been talking about going to the beach. But then this Celtics game came up.
Husband's interest in sports has developed over the last 5 or so years (probably not coincidental that it developed as his addictions were kicking into high gear, as sports talk radio was just one of many distractions he found.) So I'm not really used to being a sports widow. But I don't really care. I've always liked the fact that we had our own separate lives and interests, even though many of our passions overlap. So when he brought up going to the game, I was disappointed because I was looking forward to our day at the beach, but he's also expressed a desire to "go to a bar and watch sports with the guys" once in a while, and I fully support that in theory. In practice, I wanted to see him, because I don't see much of him during the week. But I said it was okay, because I know this time with the guys thing is important to him, and having lives outside of being a couple is important to me.
As it worked out, Husband drove out to the beach with us (the daughter of our friends didn't come after all,) swam with Son for about 20 minutes, and then went off to find a bar so he could meet up with his friend and see the game. He'd come back to the beach when the game was over. Fine. That worked for all of us. But I was still feeling residually cranky.
Son ended up getting a bad sunburn on his shoulders, and we were both worried about that so we packed up to go shortly after Husband re-joined us. As Son was washing off at the beach shower, Husband said, "Well, the Celtics won."
I glanced up at him. I didn't know what to say. I was cranky that I hadn't seen as much of Husband as I wanted, I was very worried about Son's sunburn, feeling like a shitty mother for not realizing sooner that Son needed more sunscreen (I had on these weirdly tinted sunglasses that made it hard to see how red Son's back was)...so I said, "I...don't really...care about basketball." I wasn't trying to be mean. I was feeling crappy and just didn't have any small talk to make about sports in that moment. But I saw Husband's face harden into a mask of pissed off.
I asked if he was ticked off. He said that my response was rude. I apologized and said I didn't mean to be rude, but that I just had a lot of other things on my mind these days (yes - a passive aggressive reference to impact of Husband's betrayal) and was not interested in basketball. "I know you're not that interested. I was just trying to tell you about something that's important to me. But you don't care. I'll keep that in mind." His hard stare extended into the distance. As conflict avoiders we both slide easily into quiet resentment.
Looking at his angry expression, suddenly I could feel my heart in my throat. I became aware of the large breasted woman in the bikini top walking toward us as Husband glanced in her direction; I saw other bikini clad women with great figures all around, and realized how easy it would be for Husband to start looking at other women if he was angry at me. I felt searingly vulnerable - like he had so much power to hurt me so easily. I doubt anything like that was formulating in his mind. But I was painfully aware of the feeling that I would never be enough for anyone. I could find someone else, but there would always be someone prettier, thinner, younger. There was no way for me to be safe. No way. Except to be alone. To be done with vulnerability. To do everything I could to be a good mother, but to withhold myself from men. He has too much power, he has too much power. That kept going through my head.
As we were putting our things in the trunk, Husband apologized for speaking in anger and kissed me. But my anxiety and fear did not subside. Sitting beside him in the car, I tried to hang on to my picture of Husband Not The Addict. Because the face I'd seen him harden into was definitely the face I identify as Husband The Addict. I tried to separate the two but it felt impossible. I felt scared of the power Husband had, and sad at the thought of being emotionally isolated for the rest of my life.
Dinner was hardly any better. I held it together because I didn't want Son to have to deal with whatever was going on with me. But as soon as I could I got myself out to the treadmill. It had been a hot day, and the sweat came easily. Only then did I feel the anxiety start to recede. My thoughts became more rational.
Now, seven hours later, I can see that I have a lot of work to do yet on my individual path. A lot of learning how to hang on to my self and not be defined by the disapproval of important others when they express anger. (After all, I can see how my response to Husband's attempt to share what was on his mind with me was hurtful.) I'm much too easily wounded, because I depend so much on others for feelings of value and self-worth. It's easy for anybody to become too powerful because I give them so much power. I know I've grown, because I'm much less thrown by the disapproval of strangers. But important people (Husband, colleagues, etc) are still granted too much power.
The fear, sadness and anxiety have not completely dissipated but they are accompanied by the knowledge that if I did see Husband The Addict for a flickering second today, Husband Not The Addict was there too, and I think that's who's upstairs in our bed now. I'm just so afraid of the part of him that can discard me, the part of him that was able to do something so deeply hurtful to me without a thought.
More meditation, more spiritual reading, more reaching out, more therapy, more talking with Husband, more of the good, healthy stuff will lead me to a better place. I don't doubt this. But I was blindsided by my reaction today, and surprised at how much uphill work in this area of self esteem, self definition, lies ahead yet.
Husband's interest in sports has developed over the last 5 or so years (probably not coincidental that it developed as his addictions were kicking into high gear, as sports talk radio was just one of many distractions he found.) So I'm not really used to being a sports widow. But I don't really care. I've always liked the fact that we had our own separate lives and interests, even though many of our passions overlap. So when he brought up going to the game, I was disappointed because I was looking forward to our day at the beach, but he's also expressed a desire to "go to a bar and watch sports with the guys" once in a while, and I fully support that in theory. In practice, I wanted to see him, because I don't see much of him during the week. But I said it was okay, because I know this time with the guys thing is important to him, and having lives outside of being a couple is important to me.
As it worked out, Husband drove out to the beach with us (the daughter of our friends didn't come after all,) swam with Son for about 20 minutes, and then went off to find a bar so he could meet up with his friend and see the game. He'd come back to the beach when the game was over. Fine. That worked for all of us. But I was still feeling residually cranky.
Son ended up getting a bad sunburn on his shoulders, and we were both worried about that so we packed up to go shortly after Husband re-joined us. As Son was washing off at the beach shower, Husband said, "Well, the Celtics won."
I glanced up at him. I didn't know what to say. I was cranky that I hadn't seen as much of Husband as I wanted, I was very worried about Son's sunburn, feeling like a shitty mother for not realizing sooner that Son needed more sunscreen (I had on these weirdly tinted sunglasses that made it hard to see how red Son's back was)...so I said, "I...don't really...care about basketball." I wasn't trying to be mean. I was feeling crappy and just didn't have any small talk to make about sports in that moment. But I saw Husband's face harden into a mask of pissed off.
I asked if he was ticked off. He said that my response was rude. I apologized and said I didn't mean to be rude, but that I just had a lot of other things on my mind these days (yes - a passive aggressive reference to impact of Husband's betrayal) and was not interested in basketball. "I know you're not that interested. I was just trying to tell you about something that's important to me. But you don't care. I'll keep that in mind." His hard stare extended into the distance. As conflict avoiders we both slide easily into quiet resentment.
Looking at his angry expression, suddenly I could feel my heart in my throat. I became aware of the large breasted woman in the bikini top walking toward us as Husband glanced in her direction; I saw other bikini clad women with great figures all around, and realized how easy it would be for Husband to start looking at other women if he was angry at me. I felt searingly vulnerable - like he had so much power to hurt me so easily. I doubt anything like that was formulating in his mind. But I was painfully aware of the feeling that I would never be enough for anyone. I could find someone else, but there would always be someone prettier, thinner, younger. There was no way for me to be safe. No way. Except to be alone. To be done with vulnerability. To do everything I could to be a good mother, but to withhold myself from men. He has too much power, he has too much power. That kept going through my head.
As we were putting our things in the trunk, Husband apologized for speaking in anger and kissed me. But my anxiety and fear did not subside. Sitting beside him in the car, I tried to hang on to my picture of Husband Not The Addict. Because the face I'd seen him harden into was definitely the face I identify as Husband The Addict. I tried to separate the two but it felt impossible. I felt scared of the power Husband had, and sad at the thought of being emotionally isolated for the rest of my life.
Dinner was hardly any better. I held it together because I didn't want Son to have to deal with whatever was going on with me. But as soon as I could I got myself out to the treadmill. It had been a hot day, and the sweat came easily. Only then did I feel the anxiety start to recede. My thoughts became more rational.
Now, seven hours later, I can see that I have a lot of work to do yet on my individual path. A lot of learning how to hang on to my self and not be defined by the disapproval of important others when they express anger. (After all, I can see how my response to Husband's attempt to share what was on his mind with me was hurtful.) I'm much too easily wounded, because I depend so much on others for feelings of value and self-worth. It's easy for anybody to become too powerful because I give them so much power. I know I've grown, because I'm much less thrown by the disapproval of strangers. But important people (Husband, colleagues, etc) are still granted too much power.
The fear, sadness and anxiety have not completely dissipated but they are accompanied by the knowledge that if I did see Husband The Addict for a flickering second today, Husband Not The Addict was there too, and I think that's who's upstairs in our bed now. I'm just so afraid of the part of him that can discard me, the part of him that was able to do something so deeply hurtful to me without a thought.
More meditation, more spiritual reading, more reaching out, more therapy, more talking with Husband, more of the good, healthy stuff will lead me to a better place. I don't doubt this. But I was blindsided by my reaction today, and surprised at how much uphill work in this area of self esteem, self definition, lies ahead yet.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
