I've come quite a long way from my former fear and suspicion of any concept of a higher power. I've found that spiritual practices such as meditation, yoga and prayer to the god of my understanding result in peace and serenity in the face of that which is unknown and uncontrollable in life.
I've also found that if I allow the most important relationship in my life to be with the god of my understanding, and I define that god in a way that lifts me up and empowers me, then I can keep the focus on myself more easily.
Spiritual practices form a structure that helps me stay present to my relationship with the God. Since I am not a monk, these practices have to fit into my already full life, so it's an ongoing challenge. But every new moment presents a new opportunity, and accepting less than perfect is another good spiritual practice for me.
One new practice I'm incorporating is a weekly 1-day fast. I use the lemonade recipe from the Master Cleanse (for no reason other than I don't really think it's healthy to go completely without calories/nourishment if one has a choice.)
I find that feeling hungry does two things: It gives me the chance to have feelings and not use food as a distraction or pacifier. And it reminds me of how grateful I am for everything I do have.
I am fasting today, and I am clear that life at this moment is good and that I am exactly where I need to be, and have everything I need to have, and that this has always been true even when I didn't know it.
Peace.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Digging deeper on my side of the street
Husband and I were beginning to make love one night last week, and I was wrestling with being trapped in my head.
Earlier in the evening as I was washing dishes somehow my mind went to thinking about how husband could have been spending his time with prostitutes while I was going about my daily life doing mundane things like washing dishes and not realizing what unimaginable physical intimacies he was sharing with other women. After that, all evening long my thoughts strayed down this path of invasive pictures forming in head.
I was going back and forth about whether or not to say anything to Husband, but I decided that this was my opportunity to get practice at getting myself back to the present while I was on a downward spiral. So I continued wrestling while trying to engage in making love with Husband at the same time.
The struggle in my head intensified as I was giving Husband a massage, because this was how the whole prostitution thing took off (massage parlors) and was a part of most of his sessions with prostitutes. Things were getting worse and worse, with every touch leading down some dark path of images. My heart was racing, and I realized that I was feeling a lot of anxiety and fear. As we continued kissing and caressing part of me was thinking very hard about what it was that I was afraid of.
I reached down and found that he'd lost his erection. He's middle aged, so that's not completely unusual, although I always have that little voice in the back of my mind that makes me consider the possibility that he is bored with me. Suddenly, he pulled away.
"I'm sorry. I don't know why, but I'm really in my head right now," he said.
A rush of relief flowed through me as I laughed and told him all about how I was so in my head, too. I confessed that I'd been struggling with a PTSD spiral of invasive images all evening, and that I'd been trying to figure out how to pull myself into the present without bringing him into it. We talked about it, and he said, "When in doubt, it's probably always best to talk about things. You're not responsible for my feelings or my reaction."
He has grown tremendously, so much that he's really able to support me when I'm feeling vulnerable and anxious. It was an amazing experience to be "seen" by him when I thought I was doing such a great job of concealing my struggle to get fully into the moment.
So I took all this to therapy last weekend (I would have forgotten, but Husband firmly encouraged me to write it down, so I wrote "Fear of - I don't know what. Fear of things that have happened in the past. Not afraid that it will happen again. But just have fear.")
Well...SURPRISE (to me, at least)! I thought I was trying to do the evolved thing and get myself back into the present. But what I didn't see was that I was using my old ways of handling things myself, trying to control Husband's experience (I didn't want him to feel bad about things that seem like they should be resolved for me by now,) and withholding myself to avoid being out of control (talking about what's going on while not knowing how Husband might respond.) In hindsight I could see that I was already feeling so out of control and in the grips of fear and anxiety in my spiral of thoughts and images, that the way I was trying to regain some sense of stability was to clamp down and get back "in control" by taking care of my feelings all by myself.
So I've told Husband that I'm going to try to talk about my feelings, and face my fear of things being messy and out of my control. I want intimacy, not a secret island of safety where I know I won't be hurt because I'm completely in control and alone.
I don't exactly know how to do this, because "handling it myself" is like water to a fish for me. It's really hard for me to distinguish when I'm doing this because it's deeply integrated into who I am in the world. But I know that the other side of discomfort and pain can be freedom if I stay with those things long enough to get present to the fact that all things change, and to my willingness to have faith that I have everything I need, and that my higher power answers before I ask.
Earlier in the evening as I was washing dishes somehow my mind went to thinking about how husband could have been spending his time with prostitutes while I was going about my daily life doing mundane things like washing dishes and not realizing what unimaginable physical intimacies he was sharing with other women. After that, all evening long my thoughts strayed down this path of invasive pictures forming in head.
I was going back and forth about whether or not to say anything to Husband, but I decided that this was my opportunity to get practice at getting myself back to the present while I was on a downward spiral. So I continued wrestling while trying to engage in making love with Husband at the same time.
The struggle in my head intensified as I was giving Husband a massage, because this was how the whole prostitution thing took off (massage parlors) and was a part of most of his sessions with prostitutes. Things were getting worse and worse, with every touch leading down some dark path of images. My heart was racing, and I realized that I was feeling a lot of anxiety and fear. As we continued kissing and caressing part of me was thinking very hard about what it was that I was afraid of.
I reached down and found that he'd lost his erection. He's middle aged, so that's not completely unusual, although I always have that little voice in the back of my mind that makes me consider the possibility that he is bored with me. Suddenly, he pulled away.
"I'm sorry. I don't know why, but I'm really in my head right now," he said.
A rush of relief flowed through me as I laughed and told him all about how I was so in my head, too. I confessed that I'd been struggling with a PTSD spiral of invasive images all evening, and that I'd been trying to figure out how to pull myself into the present without bringing him into it. We talked about it, and he said, "When in doubt, it's probably always best to talk about things. You're not responsible for my feelings or my reaction."
He has grown tremendously, so much that he's really able to support me when I'm feeling vulnerable and anxious. It was an amazing experience to be "seen" by him when I thought I was doing such a great job of concealing my struggle to get fully into the moment.
So I took all this to therapy last weekend (I would have forgotten, but Husband firmly encouraged me to write it down, so I wrote "Fear of - I don't know what. Fear of things that have happened in the past. Not afraid that it will happen again. But just have fear.")
Well...SURPRISE (to me, at least)! I thought I was trying to do the evolved thing and get myself back into the present. But what I didn't see was that I was using my old ways of handling things myself, trying to control Husband's experience (I didn't want him to feel bad about things that seem like they should be resolved for me by now,) and withholding myself to avoid being out of control (talking about what's going on while not knowing how Husband might respond.) In hindsight I could see that I was already feeling so out of control and in the grips of fear and anxiety in my spiral of thoughts and images, that the way I was trying to regain some sense of stability was to clamp down and get back "in control" by taking care of my feelings all by myself.
So I've told Husband that I'm going to try to talk about my feelings, and face my fear of things being messy and out of my control. I want intimacy, not a secret island of safety where I know I won't be hurt because I'm completely in control and alone.
I don't exactly know how to do this, because "handling it myself" is like water to a fish for me. It's really hard for me to distinguish when I'm doing this because it's deeply integrated into who I am in the world. But I know that the other side of discomfort and pain can be freedom if I stay with those things long enough to get present to the fact that all things change, and to my willingness to have faith that I have everything I need, and that my higher power answers before I ask.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Transition out of therapy
Since the beginning of June, and at the suggestion of his therapist, Husband has concluded both his individual and group therapy. Husband consulted me about this decision, and said that his therapist had offered to see us together if I was uncomfortable with this transition. But I decided that if both of them felt he was ready, and as long as Husband was planning to continue attending regular SAA and OA meetings, from my perspective I could see so much growth and progress that it seemed like a natural time to take this step.
Then, last weekend, Husband and I realized we also both felt ready to end our regular couples therapy. Our therapist agreed that if we felt ready, in her opinion we were ready.
We left both therapists with an open-door policy, meaning we can return at any time for a "tune-up" or to resume regular sessions.
And this week, according to the plan Husband and I had discussed, I resumed my individual therapy with the therapist who was seeing us as a couple. I have uncovered a lot of family of origin issues that I was unaware of (nothing dramatic, but certainly important to my experience of life) and I realized I need to be challenged in this area before I slip into complacency, which is so easy to do when life feels good.
My goals for therapy are to continue to explore where I'm not setting boundaries, and to further develop my own self-definition and relationship with myself. Having never been in individual therapy outside of the crisis of discovering Husband's sex addiction, I have a conversation in my head telling me that it's indulgent. Surely there are millions of people more in need of help than me. But a different part of me recognizes this as an old conversation, so I'm actually going through with this. I don't expect to spend years in therapy, but I think 6 months to a year will give me a solid foundation of learning, growth and practice around being a strong, self-aware, self-defined, self-loving, adult woman assuming full responsibility for my experience, and accepting all the love and support that comes into my life at the same time.
I am grateful, thankful, and appreciate the chance to be a human being in this world, right here, right now. To quote that Jesus Jones song that Husband loves, "There's no other place else I want to be..."
Then, last weekend, Husband and I realized we also both felt ready to end our regular couples therapy. Our therapist agreed that if we felt ready, in her opinion we were ready.
We left both therapists with an open-door policy, meaning we can return at any time for a "tune-up" or to resume regular sessions.
And this week, according to the plan Husband and I had discussed, I resumed my individual therapy with the therapist who was seeing us as a couple. I have uncovered a lot of family of origin issues that I was unaware of (nothing dramatic, but certainly important to my experience of life) and I realized I need to be challenged in this area before I slip into complacency, which is so easy to do when life feels good.
My goals for therapy are to continue to explore where I'm not setting boundaries, and to further develop my own self-definition and relationship with myself. Having never been in individual therapy outside of the crisis of discovering Husband's sex addiction, I have a conversation in my head telling me that it's indulgent. Surely there are millions of people more in need of help than me. But a different part of me recognizes this as an old conversation, so I'm actually going through with this. I don't expect to spend years in therapy, but I think 6 months to a year will give me a solid foundation of learning, growth and practice around being a strong, self-aware, self-defined, self-loving, adult woman assuming full responsibility for my experience, and accepting all the love and support that comes into my life at the same time.
I am grateful, thankful, and appreciate the chance to be a human being in this world, right here, right now. To quote that Jesus Jones song that Husband loves, "There's no other place else I want to be..."
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Happy Anniversary to Me!
On June 1, 2007 my life disintegrated when I found out that my husband and best friend of 20 years had spent tens of thousands of dollars having intercourse with high priced prostitutes for the past 3 1/2 years, and had been visiting strip clubs for lap dances since before we were married. I never had reason to suspect a thing, (in fact my husband always spoke with disdain about infidelity) and I would have bet my son's life on my husband's honesty.
Because we had a child, I chose not to leave immediately (as my whole being was screaming out that I should do, and I would have were it not for our son.) I decided to take actions that were aligned with what I wanted the outcome to be. Even though I couldn't begin to imagine at the time how it would be possible, what I wanted was for us to be able to be together to provide a loving stable environment for our little boy. I wasn't going to stay if it didn't seem to be heading in that direction, but I was willing to stay long enough to try.
Over the past 2 years we both entered individual therapy for the first time in our lives, and also went into couples therapy with someone who specailizes in sex addiction. We started attending recovery meetings regularly (SANON for me and SAA and OA for him.) And we both began individual explorations of spirituality.
Two years ago the life I'd thought I was living was destroyed. And today, I have peace, serenity, clarity and a relationship with myself that I never even knew was possible. (I'm still learning and growing from this experience - the more I learn and grow the more I see where I can learn and grow, in a very positive way. ) Husband and I also have a better relationship than either of us ever knew we could have.
I've learned that for me I'll never say "forever" again, because things change due to forces beyond my control. But taking my life and my marriage one day at a time, I can honestly say that I have come to not regret the past, and that I don't wish to shut the door on it. It's still difficult to say with total authenticity that I'd choose all the pain I've gone through again, but I can say definitively that I don't know how else I would have had the growth and learning that I've had over the past 2 years. The leaps and bounds I've made are a direct result of the discomfort and groundlessness of discovering such profound betrayal. I was left with no choice but to grow and learn exponentially or be annihilated by pain, loss, dispair and hopelessness.
I am thankful. I am grateful. And I am here to say that it's possible to survive discovery of a partner's sex addiction and come out healthier and happier (whether or not you stay together) on the other side of it. Everybody's circumstance and everybody's journey is different. My story is only one story. For those of you struggling to maintain hope where hope seems impossible, my experience is that having gotten support and having focused on myself rather than the addict, I have not only survived this, but I've blossomed as a result. I have realized aspects of myself that were previously unknown to me: I've found more strength, more confidence, more compassion, more courage; I've found I'm a more loving person, a more honest person, a more forgiving person, a more courageous person, a more conscious person, a more spiritual person. I am more fully myself - the self that has always been there, but that I've never had a relationship with until now.
Because we had a child, I chose not to leave immediately (as my whole being was screaming out that I should do, and I would have were it not for our son.) I decided to take actions that were aligned with what I wanted the outcome to be. Even though I couldn't begin to imagine at the time how it would be possible, what I wanted was for us to be able to be together to provide a loving stable environment for our little boy. I wasn't going to stay if it didn't seem to be heading in that direction, but I was willing to stay long enough to try.
Over the past 2 years we both entered individual therapy for the first time in our lives, and also went into couples therapy with someone who specailizes in sex addiction. We started attending recovery meetings regularly (SANON for me and SAA and OA for him.) And we both began individual explorations of spirituality.
Two years ago the life I'd thought I was living was destroyed. And today, I have peace, serenity, clarity and a relationship with myself that I never even knew was possible. (I'm still learning and growing from this experience - the more I learn and grow the more I see where I can learn and grow, in a very positive way. ) Husband and I also have a better relationship than either of us ever knew we could have.
I've learned that for me I'll never say "forever" again, because things change due to forces beyond my control. But taking my life and my marriage one day at a time, I can honestly say that I have come to not regret the past, and that I don't wish to shut the door on it. It's still difficult to say with total authenticity that I'd choose all the pain I've gone through again, but I can say definitively that I don't know how else I would have had the growth and learning that I've had over the past 2 years. The leaps and bounds I've made are a direct result of the discomfort and groundlessness of discovering such profound betrayal. I was left with no choice but to grow and learn exponentially or be annihilated by pain, loss, dispair and hopelessness.
I am thankful. I am grateful. And I am here to say that it's possible to survive discovery of a partner's sex addiction and come out healthier and happier (whether or not you stay together) on the other side of it. Everybody's circumstance and everybody's journey is different. My story is only one story. For those of you struggling to maintain hope where hope seems impossible, my experience is that having gotten support and having focused on myself rather than the addict, I have not only survived this, but I've blossomed as a result. I have realized aspects of myself that were previously unknown to me: I've found more strength, more confidence, more compassion, more courage; I've found I'm a more loving person, a more honest person, a more forgiving person, a more courageous person, a more conscious person, a more spiritual person. I am more fully myself - the self that has always been there, but that I've never had a relationship with until now.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Finding love in loss
The Buddhist Reviews Tricycle Magazine publishes a "Daily Dharma" email that excerpts writings on Buddhism.
Today's edition about finding love in loss, from Lorne Ladner's book The Lost Art of Compassion, so aptly described what this journey has been for me:
"To live a meaningful life, each of us must step outside the familiar, confining walls of ego defenses and enter our own wilderness, our own charnel ground, to face honestly the truth of impermanence and loss. In the strange cemetery of imagination, mourning ourselves, we suddenly stumble upon what’s most essential. Facing loss, we find love."
Over the past 2 years I've found greater love and compassion for myself and others, beyond what I knew to be possible.
I still get scared, pissed off, resentful, etc. There's no doubt that I'll always be human, and that the logical effect of impermanence is that "good" is as temporary as "bad."
But in order to survive the loss of the life I thought I was living, I've been pushed into new territory and tasted the sweetness of a deeper love than I've ever known before, which has made possible a deeper and more profound peace.
Today's edition about finding love in loss, from Lorne Ladner's book The Lost Art of Compassion, so aptly described what this journey has been for me:
"To live a meaningful life, each of us must step outside the familiar, confining walls of ego defenses and enter our own wilderness, our own charnel ground, to face honestly the truth of impermanence and loss. In the strange cemetery of imagination, mourning ourselves, we suddenly stumble upon what’s most essential. Facing loss, we find love."
Over the past 2 years I've found greater love and compassion for myself and others, beyond what I knew to be possible.
I still get scared, pissed off, resentful, etc. There's no doubt that I'll always be human, and that the logical effect of impermanence is that "good" is as temporary as "bad."
But in order to survive the loss of the life I thought I was living, I've been pushed into new territory and tasted the sweetness of a deeper love than I've ever known before, which has made possible a deeper and more profound peace.
Monday, May 4, 2009
What am I afriad of?
For the past several weeks I've been wrestling with fears. I even woke one night and went through Husband's emails and Twitter friends to see what I would find.
I found nothing, and I don't have any reason to think anything's going on.
It's surprising, because I'd have thought from the way things are going with Husband's recovery and our couples work that I would feel more secure, more sure by now.
Of course, the thing that I've been slacking off on is my own recovery work. After almost 2 years you'd think I'd have come far enough, right?!
But, not surprising now that I've jumped in, apparently it's going to take more time to cross these waters. Maybe a lifetime. Maybe that's human beings are here for. To be ongoingly recovering or avoiding recovery.
Recovering from what? Not everybody is married to a sex addict, after all.
I've decided that what I'm recovering from is being human...which explains why it's a life's work, and why others who find themselves in a human existence may also find it a useful pursuit.
I'm recovering from the curse of our big, human brains that know enough to know (even if only subconsciously) and be afraid of (even if only subconsciously) how much we don't know.
One question I've been looking at again recently is 'Why did this happen to me twice?'
Betrayed by my father, betrayed by my husband, both of whom I trusted with childlike certainty.
I think there are many ways of looking at everything, and that with that choice lies freedom and any hope of peace.
So I've decided to listen for the voice of my higher power/divine self/universal love intelligence/name-of-one's-choice-for-that-which-is-beyond-me in this matter. Some would call it the voice of God.
When I listen, what I hear is my higher power telling me that I'm ready. I'm ready to be with the groundlessness that is the truth of our existence and find peace. I'm ready to have faith that I everything I need in this life will be provided even if it's not what I think I need or what I want. I'm ready to accept that everything changes, the 'good' and the 'bad,' and that no matter how I plan for the future and wish for a different past, all I have is the moment I'm in and the choice to be full of love and compassion or not in that instant. I'm ready to find freedom, peace and the ultimate strength in courageous surrender to what is so.
Higher power has presented me with this opportunity because I am ready to find that inside myself.
So fear is my ally. When I feel it I'm reminded that I am on the right path, that I'm keeping myself open to learning who I am in the face of it, that I'm learning how I can resist both fight and flight to fleetingly experience my true self in those moments.
I found nothing, and I don't have any reason to think anything's going on.
It's surprising, because I'd have thought from the way things are going with Husband's recovery and our couples work that I would feel more secure, more sure by now.
Of course, the thing that I've been slacking off on is my own recovery work. After almost 2 years you'd think I'd have come far enough, right?!
But, not surprising now that I've jumped in, apparently it's going to take more time to cross these waters. Maybe a lifetime. Maybe that's human beings are here for. To be ongoingly recovering or avoiding recovery.
Recovering from what? Not everybody is married to a sex addict, after all.
I've decided that what I'm recovering from is being human...which explains why it's a life's work, and why others who find themselves in a human existence may also find it a useful pursuit.
I'm recovering from the curse of our big, human brains that know enough to know (even if only subconsciously) and be afraid of (even if only subconsciously) how much we don't know.
One question I've been looking at again recently is 'Why did this happen to me twice?'
Betrayed by my father, betrayed by my husband, both of whom I trusted with childlike certainty.
I think there are many ways of looking at everything, and that with that choice lies freedom and any hope of peace.
So I've decided to listen for the voice of my higher power/divine self/universal love intelligence/name-of-one's-choice-for-that-which-is-beyond-me in this matter. Some would call it the voice of God.
When I listen, what I hear is my higher power telling me that I'm ready. I'm ready to be with the groundlessness that is the truth of our existence and find peace. I'm ready to have faith that I everything I need in this life will be provided even if it's not what I think I need or what I want. I'm ready to accept that everything changes, the 'good' and the 'bad,' and that no matter how I plan for the future and wish for a different past, all I have is the moment I'm in and the choice to be full of love and compassion or not in that instant. I'm ready to find freedom, peace and the ultimate strength in courageous surrender to what is so.
Higher power has presented me with this opportunity because I am ready to find that inside myself.
So fear is my ally. When I feel it I'm reminded that I am on the right path, that I'm keeping myself open to learning who I am in the face of it, that I'm learning how I can resist both fight and flight to fleetingly experience my true self in those moments.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
What I see about my fear
So I look at my last post and what I see is that I have some desire to control what Husband is thinking because I use what he's thinking to define myself.
That's part of where the fear comes from.
I know that for me wanting to control what I can't is a form of resisting what is so, and leads to nothing but unhappiness and dissatisfaction. So I'm willing to give that up (and give it up again and again and again, because it's not going to come easily.)
The other part of the fear is a fear of trust.
I'm afriad I'll be lied to again, even if it's only that his mind is somewhere else when I believe it's with me.
And I'm afriad of what would happen if he lied again. Although oddly, we've already been through a small slip with lying (about something other than sex with prostitutes) and I lived through it.
I guess I'm just afraid of the pain. I don't want that kind of pain again.
But I'm also reminded about the gifts of pain by reading Sophie in the Moonlight and Willow posting about being right where one is supposed to be.
After reading a lot of Buddhist and related spiritual literature, I've decided to take the position that I'm always right where I'm supposed to be, and either surrendering or resisting.
In the past I've gotten caught up in the thinking that "where I'm supposed to be" is a going to be a place that I'd want to be. Now I see this isn't necessarily true.
This is a note to myself to take this mantra with me wherever I go, wherever I find myself, into to the sunshine and into the darkness: I'm right where I'm supposed to be.
That's part of where the fear comes from.
I know that for me wanting to control what I can't is a form of resisting what is so, and leads to nothing but unhappiness and dissatisfaction. So I'm willing to give that up (and give it up again and again and again, because it's not going to come easily.)
The other part of the fear is a fear of trust.
I'm afriad I'll be lied to again, even if it's only that his mind is somewhere else when I believe it's with me.
And I'm afriad of what would happen if he lied again. Although oddly, we've already been through a small slip with lying (about something other than sex with prostitutes) and I lived through it.
I guess I'm just afraid of the pain. I don't want that kind of pain again.
But I'm also reminded about the gifts of pain by reading Sophie in the Moonlight and Willow posting about being right where one is supposed to be.
After reading a lot of Buddhist and related spiritual literature, I've decided to take the position that I'm always right where I'm supposed to be, and either surrendering or resisting.
In the past I've gotten caught up in the thinking that "where I'm supposed to be" is a going to be a place that I'd want to be. Now I see this isn't necessarily true.
This is a note to myself to take this mantra with me wherever I go, wherever I find myself, into to the sunshine and into the darkness: I'm right where I'm supposed to be.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Applying what I am learning
Last night Husband and I were making love, and I had the usual invasive thoughts and images of him with other women that usually accompany any sexual activity between us.
This time those were fraught with fears about Husband fantasizing about other women while he was making love to me.
I tried to think about why I was so afraid of this. First, why do I care so much about whether or not Husband finds me attractive (in my fears he was fantasizing about the other women he's had sex with because he couldn't get aroused by me)? I can be attractive whether or not he finds me so, right?
Second, if he is thinking about others (which he says he isn't, claims that in fact he can't) why does it matter because I can't control it, might not even know it? If I don't know it, it can't hurt me, right?
The answer I arrived at is that what I'm afraid of is disappearing, being negated, being invalidated by a lack of connection between us during this intimate act. If husband is with someone else or with fantasy in his mind when he's making love to me it's almost as if I'm not there. So why do I need his validation, why do I need to feel recognized by him in order to feel...here in the world?
I'm sure it's tied into the fact that deep intimacy demands both partners be fully present to and with each other. But why can't I just enjoy the moment, wherever he is and wherever I am?
I tried to think about being whole and complete as an expression of the Divine, but the fear persisted in the moment.
This time those were fraught with fears about Husband fantasizing about other women while he was making love to me.
I tried to think about why I was so afraid of this. First, why do I care so much about whether or not Husband finds me attractive (in my fears he was fantasizing about the other women he's had sex with because he couldn't get aroused by me)? I can be attractive whether or not he finds me so, right?
Second, if he is thinking about others (which he says he isn't, claims that in fact he can't) why does it matter because I can't control it, might not even know it? If I don't know it, it can't hurt me, right?
The answer I arrived at is that what I'm afraid of is disappearing, being negated, being invalidated by a lack of connection between us during this intimate act. If husband is with someone else or with fantasy in his mind when he's making love to me it's almost as if I'm not there. So why do I need his validation, why do I need to feel recognized by him in order to feel...here in the world?
I'm sure it's tied into the fact that deep intimacy demands both partners be fully present to and with each other. But why can't I just enjoy the moment, wherever he is and wherever I am?
I tried to think about being whole and complete as an expression of the Divine, but the fear persisted in the moment.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
"Oh come all ye faithful.."
A medium recently sang that Christmas carol to me when she was channeling my dead relatives. Only after the session was over did I catch the irony coming at me from the Other Side (or at the very least from her.)
It's ironic that out of my husband being "unfaithful," I have launched myself into a deep exploration of faith.
"Take the first step in faith. You don't have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step." - Martin Luther King, Jr.
My exploration of faith and spirituality is leading me to exciting and challenging places.
Today in church we talked about looking to our higher power / higher self / universal love intelligence (again, take your pick - name is not important) for what we need, and not being distracted by thinking that satisfaction will come through other people or material things.
It made me think of this passage I found on Friday from the book Communion with God (which I have not read) by Neal Donald Walsch (an author I am not familiar with beyond this passage):
“When you allow yourself to experience that there is enough of what you once thought there was not enough of, extraordinary changes occur in the way you live your life.
“When you know that there is enough, you stop competing with others. You stop competing for love, or money, or sex, or power, or whatever it is you felt there was not enough of.
“The competition is over.
“This alters everything. Now, instead of competing with others to get what you want, you begin to give what you want away. Instead of fighting for more love, you begin giving more love away. Instead of struggling for success, you begin making sure that everyone else is successful. Instead of grasping for power, you begin empowering others.
“Instead of seeking affection, attention, sexual satisfaction, and emotional security, you find yourself being the source of it. Indeed, everything that you have ever wanted, you are now supplying to others. And the wonder of it all is that, as you give, so you receive. You suddenly become MORE of whatever you are giving away.
“The reason for this is clear. It has nothing to do with the fact that what you have done is “morally right”, or “spiritually enlightened”, or “the will of God”. It has to do with the simple truth: There is no one else in the room.
“There is only one of us.”
(From page 75 of “Communion with God”, by Neale Donald Walsch.)
This non-duality, letting God be God in me (paraphrasing Eckhart), creates a context in which I am free from the urgency of needing something else or someone else and gives me the ability to live life in a much more empowered way.
To live from the context of non-duality, of having and being enough because in fact I have and am All, leaves me able to choose freely in my life, unconstrained by the distraction of wanting or needing things or people in order to be satisfied, complete, whole or worthy.
I've been pondering this idea for a month now, and continue to get more and more peace and freedom from giving myself this context from which to experience life.
It's ironic that out of my husband being "unfaithful," I have launched myself into a deep exploration of faith.
"Take the first step in faith. You don't have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step." - Martin Luther King, Jr.
My exploration of faith and spirituality is leading me to exciting and challenging places.
Today in church we talked about looking to our higher power / higher self / universal love intelligence (again, take your pick - name is not important) for what we need, and not being distracted by thinking that satisfaction will come through other people or material things.
It made me think of this passage I found on Friday from the book Communion with God (which I have not read) by Neal Donald Walsch (an author I am not familiar with beyond this passage):
“When you allow yourself to experience that there is enough of what you once thought there was not enough of, extraordinary changes occur in the way you live your life.
“When you know that there is enough, you stop competing with others. You stop competing for love, or money, or sex, or power, or whatever it is you felt there was not enough of.
“The competition is over.
“This alters everything. Now, instead of competing with others to get what you want, you begin to give what you want away. Instead of fighting for more love, you begin giving more love away. Instead of struggling for success, you begin making sure that everyone else is successful. Instead of grasping for power, you begin empowering others.
“Instead of seeking affection, attention, sexual satisfaction, and emotional security, you find yourself being the source of it. Indeed, everything that you have ever wanted, you are now supplying to others. And the wonder of it all is that, as you give, so you receive. You suddenly become MORE of whatever you are giving away.
“The reason for this is clear. It has nothing to do with the fact that what you have done is “morally right”, or “spiritually enlightened”, or “the will of God”. It has to do with the simple truth: There is no one else in the room.
“There is only one of us.”
(From page 75 of “Communion with God”, by Neale Donald Walsch.)
This non-duality, letting God be God in me (paraphrasing Eckhart), creates a context in which I am free from the urgency of needing something else or someone else and gives me the ability to live life in a much more empowered way.
To live from the context of non-duality, of having and being enough because in fact I have and am All, leaves me able to choose freely in my life, unconstrained by the distraction of wanting or needing things or people in order to be satisfied, complete, whole or worthy.
I've been pondering this idea for a month now, and continue to get more and more peace and freedom from giving myself this context from which to experience life.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Don't waste a crisis?
"A good crisis is a terrible thing to waste" was the theme for the service at church today.
That concept holds great meaning for me now, and reminds me how far I've come.
It's often said (incorrectly) that the Chinese word for crisis is composed of two characters, one meaning "danger" and the other meaning "opportunity." While that isn't exactly true, I think the misunderstanding has survived over time because it resonates with people who have experienced crisis.
The crisis in my relationship has certainly been an opportunity for dramatic personal growth for which I am more thankful and grateful each day.
It was suggested today that when we find ourselves complaining it's because we haven't found a way to see the opportunity. I'm going to try to remember that in my interactions with my mother. Because of the level of co-dependency and enmenshment, our relationship has deteriorated over the years. But I don't want that for us. My mother is doing the best she can, even when she's driving me crazy and being passive aggressive and nutty in her own special way. I know I drive her crazy, too.
It's only because of therapy, reading and attending support groups over the past year and a half that I am able to see the source of our difficulties.
Understanding that and being able to observe myself participating in our enmeshed, co-dependent mess of a relationship gives me at least the opportunity to act instead of react. I'm not very good at it yet, but the possibility is there now where it wasn't before.
The last thing I want is for Mom and I to grow farther apart as she gets older. As a parent, that is certainly the last thing I'd want for me and my son. And right now, I'm the one with the better set of tools, so it's going to be up to me to meet my mom more than half way.
It will take nothing less than the support / guidance of my higher power / higher self / universal consciousness / love-beauty-intelligence - whatever you call it - to practice this, so thank god I'm beginning to have some sort of spiritual life to draw on for this daunting task!
That concept holds great meaning for me now, and reminds me how far I've come.
It's often said (incorrectly) that the Chinese word for crisis is composed of two characters, one meaning "danger" and the other meaning "opportunity." While that isn't exactly true, I think the misunderstanding has survived over time because it resonates with people who have experienced crisis.
The crisis in my relationship has certainly been an opportunity for dramatic personal growth for which I am more thankful and grateful each day.
It was suggested today that when we find ourselves complaining it's because we haven't found a way to see the opportunity. I'm going to try to remember that in my interactions with my mother. Because of the level of co-dependency and enmenshment, our relationship has deteriorated over the years. But I don't want that for us. My mother is doing the best she can, even when she's driving me crazy and being passive aggressive and nutty in her own special way. I know I drive her crazy, too.
It's only because of therapy, reading and attending support groups over the past year and a half that I am able to see the source of our difficulties.
Understanding that and being able to observe myself participating in our enmeshed, co-dependent mess of a relationship gives me at least the opportunity to act instead of react. I'm not very good at it yet, but the possibility is there now where it wasn't before.
The last thing I want is for Mom and I to grow farther apart as she gets older. As a parent, that is certainly the last thing I'd want for me and my son. And right now, I'm the one with the better set of tools, so it's going to be up to me to meet my mom more than half way.
It will take nothing less than the support / guidance of my higher power / higher self / universal consciousness / love-beauty-intelligence - whatever you call it - to practice this, so thank god I'm beginning to have some sort of spiritual life to draw on for this daunting task!
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