What I learned from Facebook

I think this talk by Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg speaks to some of the issues faced by women in their personal lives, as well as in their professional lives:

Note to self: Do not turn away from fear

I just read this quote, and it encapsulates one of the fundamental things I've learned from this journey:

"To willingly reside in our distress, no longer resisting what is, is the real key to transformation. As painful as it may be to face our deepest fears, we do reach the point where it's more painful not to face them. This is a pivotal point in the practice life." - Ezra Bayda, “Bursting the Bubble of Fear”

A hard-earned lesson that I don't want to forget.

Three and a half years ago, I would never have imagined...

I haven't written for a while. At first because I felt like a needle skipping across a scratched LP, repeating and repeating a chorus of nagging thoughts and reactions I was tired of having. And then because one day I realized I was unstuck, and there was nothing to be worked out.

There was no drama, no euphoria. I just realized that I'd been spending more time in the present with Husband, and that was why I was feeling better.

The man I used to be married to did One Big Terrible Thing and hurt me more than I ever imagined possible. But the man I'm married to now, although genetically identical to that first man, is a completely different person.

The man I'm married to now is living inside recovery. He's been looking for ways to be of service to our family and to others. He cooks meals, does dishes, takes care of our son, takes care of me in many nice ways. He's much more self-aware, able to admit that he's wrong, able to apologize, able to take responsibility for his impact on others.

After 2 years of trying, Husband has gotten a job. He had his first day on Monday. It's a great relief to me because, like Citibank, we were days, if not hours away from financial collapse. It's a miracle that we still have our house. Since he got the good news (just days before Christmas!) he's been looking forward to the job as an opportunity to go in and do good work and make a difference. Where before he seemed to me to do just enough at work to not get fired (coming in for a couple hours before and after those long lunches during which he went to the movies and saw prostitutes,) now he seems to be grateful for the opportunity, humble, and thinking about how he can do a really good job. No longer is he living inside the fantasy of being a Creative Genius just biding time until his Big Break, full of all the disdain and resentment that goes with that mentality. Instead he's a husband and a father, lucky enough to have employment during hard times, and grateful for being able to help support his family and meet his financial responsibilities.

We have a budget and we're sticking to it. We're not living in denial or fantasy about how much money we have. We're not overspending because we "deserve" some luxuries here and there. Instead we're seeking out the true pleasures in life - time with people we love and value, home cooking, hanging out at the beach, reading good books, taking care of the things that need our attention like adults. There is a new quality to our life together that seems to be really blossoming right now.

It's like the elevator door has opened and I've found myself on a different floor. The view is better from here.

I'm enjoying the moment.

Grasping, clinging and suffering: Still making my way through those kinds of days

Some days I’m overwhelmed with self-pity. This is what that looks like (indented so it’s skip-able):

I have swum with the swans. I am surrounded by people who are at the tops of all kinds of ladders in life. What is it about me that I can start at the same place as all these people, and end up in Loserville?

I’m basically a glorified assistant right now. And it feels like time is running out for me to achieve any level of success in any area.

What am I lacking that others possess? What is it about me that I can’t see that has me making almost nothing out of the education, opportunities and abilities I have? What am I missing about myself that has me end up as a failure? Married to an addict who is 100 pounds overweight and has had sex with numerous prostitutes during our marriage? Wasn’t my life supposed to be better than this?

I expected great things out of my self, assumed, almost, that my life would be amazing and that I’d accomplish great things. And others have always seemed to assume that about me as well.

I feel painfully bloated and aching with loss. Loss of what might have been.

I’m terrified that instead of being some kind of clay that I can shape into a magnificent work of art, I’m just mud.

These feelings of being less-than exist as a painful knot in my stomach and in my heart. And looking at how pathetic all this is, I feel worse.

Have I wasted my life?

That’s an ugly, embarrassing side of me. The way I sometimes deal with the pain that still lingers. Not something I’m happy to admit. I want to justify it. I’m sure I could. But what good would that do me?

I told a friend I’m feeling like I’m going through a mid-life crisis.

“Compare equals despair! You’re too young for this navel-gazing,” he said. “Don’t think so much, don’t analyze so much. Just DO!”

“Ask yourself every day: Is what I’m doing serving me?” he continued. “If not, do something different.”

And he’s right.

But how do I balance experiencing my pain, grief, anger, etc. with living and acting in the present moment? Where’s the line between having and acknowledging feelings, and getting caught in clinging and grasping? Because I think sometimes I go right to the processing part and skip the feeling part. And maybe that’s why I’m still having a lot of resentment and sadness 3 ½ years later, even after all the therapy, groups and books.

The ongoing lesson seems to be not to run from life’s difficulties, but to stay in the muck if that’s where I am, and be present to life. To feel, observe myself feeling, learn from what I see, and take action accordingly. To understand that my experience of life does not have to define me.

Buddhist monk Matthieu Ricard said in a recent article, “Happiness is a way of being, not a sensation.” Ahhh, yes. Deep breath. A ray of light to guide me out of the darkness and confusion in which I’ve been wrapping myself.

The other day, somewhere amidst my extended play version of sadness and anxiety, these words came into my head: “Don't forget who you are.”

At first I thought it meant, “Who do you think you are?”

I’ve heard that before.

But then I realized it could have other meanings.

If I think about my life in the scale of time and the Universe, I become nothing and nobody, just like everyone else.

And the freedom and peace that can come with that perspective.

The feeling that comes from understanding myself, even for a fleeting moment, as That which is everything and everybody.

Don’t forget who you are.

Mouths of babes

I'm getting ready to go out to see Husband doing a gig with his band.

It's already been a stressful night and I'm...tense.

Son comes into the bathroom where I'm applying glitter to my eyes.

"I love you mom."

I get a big hug.

"I love you too!"

"But I wish you could get into the Christmas spirit."

My son is my greatest blessing.

On being receptive to truth

"The trouble with the world," said the Master with a sigh, "is that human beings refuse to grow up."

"When can a person be said to have grown up?" asked a disciple.

"On the day he does not need to be lied to about anything."

Anthony de Mello

When I read this, I realized that one of the things I have been learning about is my ability to be with difficult truths.

I still have moments, stretches of time even, when I wish for that bliss I had when I was living inside lies. I often wonder if I'll ever be able to rid myself completely of that longing.

But I have also come to know with a certainty I never had before that part of myself that cannot be shattered.

There is nothing that can be revealed to me that can stop the gentle, lapping quiet of a clear dawn over Puget Sound. Nothing that can lift the smell of the ocean from a coastal breeze, or silence the rhythmic caress of the waves on the shore. No truth can take from me the beauty, joy and peace that exist in each moment if only I am willing to be open to them, even in times of great sadness or pain.

I feel there is nothing I need to be protected from, because I've experienced the peace that comes from allowing for the ever-changing nature of all things, and from letting go of wanting the past to be different and the future to be a certain way. I try to remember to remind myself of this when I need comfort. When it feels difficult to do this, I pray:

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time; Enjoying one moment at a time; Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace." - from the Serenity Prayer

"I am surrendering moment by moment to whatever is happening in this very instant of time. With precision and gentleness, I surrender my cherished ways of regarding myself and others, my cherished ways of holding it all together, my cherished ways of blocking bodhichitta. I do this again and again over many challenging and inspiring years, and in the process develop an appetite for groundlessness." - Pema Chodron, The Places that Scare You

This is a different version of "I can take it" than I used to hold before - that feeling of power that comes with hardening and shutting down. This is the peace beyond understanding that comes with softening and opening myself up, with willingness and faith, to whatever is so in a moment.

Because I'm human, and probably more because all things change, sometimes I can do this and sometimes I can't. When I can't, I look for the moment when I'm ready to try again.

How far I've come

Last night I was looking at some phrases I've kept on a piece of paper beside the bed to remind me about what I've learned from discovering Husband's sex addiction.

• I can find peace and freedom in surrender and gratitude
• I'm powerless. Just admit it and surrender (over and over and over again)
• One day at a time.
• My most important relationship is with my higher power, which I am an expression of
• My most important actions are to use my life and my abilities to be of service as an expression of love, compassion and non-duality, and to celebrate everything I have.
• If I listen for it I will always hear the voice of higher power.
• Pain, fear and all kinds of adversity are opportunity. I can allow both the good and the bad to be gifts.
• What am I resisting?
• I can always choose the most empowering context.
• Surrendering to the moment at hand is usually the most powerful response.
• Have fun!
• If I forget all of this, remembering is the next part of my journey

As I looked at that list, I realized how much of this has become who I am. I don't need this piece of paper as much as I used to, because much of what I've learned has become fundamentally integrated into my approach to the world.

It made me happy to realize that I've really grown and changed in some very potent ways.

I'm proud of myself, because it wasn't an easy road, and it could have gone many different ways.

I'm still growing and developing, but now I have these new tools that have become part of me that make me stronger in the world. Stronger for myself.

There have been a lot of challenging things happening in my life lately. An unanticipated hysterectomy, discovering Husband had been looking at Sports Illustrated swimsuit models online again, the loss of my 14 year-old dog to cancer, the loss of a business partnership, job interviews for big jobs, and falling behind on the mortgage.

Through all of this, I've used the new tools I've learned - turning things over to higher power, new levels of confidence, speaking up for myself without worrying about being "reasonable," operating as if I deserve all good things that come to me, surrendering, praying, listening for higher power, choosing a context that empowers me, and not running from fear, pain or adversity...

I can feel my own strength in ways I never have before. I can feel a relationship with myself that I never had before.

I feel ready for the world, ready for any challenge, ready to make the most of every opportunity. All this is new, and thanks to the work I've done.

It's been worth it.

What to do with the things I can't change

When I met Husband in 1988, Mom and I were renting an apartment together. After Husband and I became a couple, he moved in with us and we three have lived together ever since, through 22 years, 2 more apartments and a house.

If Husband is my greatest teacher in the spiritual sense, my mother is his. This translates into a very difficult relationship between them. Not very pleasant for me, but, especially over the last 3 years, I've tried to stay out of it.

Husband had told me that he felt trapped, because he knows I'd never be able to ask my mom to move out. I empathize with him, but he's right. It's a cost to me to have her here, but the cost to me of asking her to leave would be greater. And Husband has been compassionate in not asking me to make that choice. But it's important to him that I know how stressful it is for him, that I know his feelings.

The other day as I listened to Husband complain about mom, I could see clearly how he could relieve a lot of the pressure himself.

My mother isn't malicious. At her worst she's passive aggressive, but many times she's just doing her codependent best to be helpful. Mom doesn't have a good set of tools for self-expression, and she's not aware of what an absolutist she is. She rejects anything that starts to feel like an authority figure (even her own decisions) and frequently undermines us as parents by siding with my son on subjects such as bedtime, consumption of sweets and treats, second helpings, etc... She generally focuses on the worst that could possibly happen. And she is very self-righteous, while at the same time vehemently declaring her disdain for self-righteous people. In short, mom lacks self-awareness on many levels. But she tries to be helpful, and she does the best she can. (I'm really trying to cultivate compassion in my relationship with her, to let go of what I think she should be and appreciate the best of who she is. I have varying degrees of success.)

If one gets frustrated with a cat for meowing instead of mooing, who is causing the problem?

I understand many of Husband's problems with my mother. I share some of them, and I also have my own. But something I know that both Husband and I recognize is that there is little if any chance that the things that bother us about mom will change. For all intents and purposes, my mother is an immobile object.

As I listen to his complaints, I see all the things he could do from his own side to alleviate his suffering - for example, not taking her behavior personally, not expecting her to put our son to bed on time when she babysits, not getting upset when she draws our attention to the latest child kidnapping or tragic death, etc. (I don't tell him any of this, of course, because thanks to therapy I'm trying to practice listening without offering solutions.)

"It's like there's this thing in my life that I really, really wish wasn't there, but there's nothing I can do about it," he said. "You know what I mean?"

I felt like a light switch flipped on in my brain.

"Yes! Yes I do!" I said to both of us. "I know exactly what you're talking about."

I realized in that moment that this was how Husband could begin to understand how I feel about his lies and infidelity.

And in the next moment I began to wonder if all the clarity I had about how he could alleviate his own suffering could be applied to me when something triggers me into thinking about the past, or when I have uninvited thoughts and images come into my head.

Husband patted my leg. "I know you do," he said. "I know what you're talking about."

So I've been thinking it through. When there is something in my path that is beyond my control, the thing I can do is decide how I respond. I can get angry with the cat or feel hurt because it doesn't moo, I can feel disrespected when I ask the cat to moo and it meows, or I can say "That is a cat, and it meows." In other words, here is something that I don't have the power to change, and there is nothing for me to gain by wishing it to be anything other that what it is.

Or very specifically, the events of my past are what they are. Triggers and invasive thoughts are an opportunity for me to practice bringing myself back into the present moment, where I do have the power to have an impact.

What is going on in the present moment? Is Husband treating me the way I want and need to be treated? Is something bothering me that I need to address or express?

If things are good in the present moment, I can take a deep breath, surrender to the past that I have that will never be any other way, and enjoy the happiness of the present moment.

I think if one wants to try to change something that can't be changed (like the past) or that doesn't think it needs to be changed (like my mom) one must consider whether the cost of trying to change that thing (or wishing one could) is worth it, or if there is a more productive action that could be taken. I think there is a lot of truth to the saying "What you resist persists."

The trick is to figure out how to grow so that I'm not stopped by immobile objects in my path. Maybe it's finding compassion, maybe it's having a difficult conversation, maybe it's surrendering to my lack of control over something, or maybe it's something else.

I believe it's possible to progress without resisting that which I have no power to change.

It was a nice opening for me. I could feel the space created by seeing this parallel between Husband's situation and my own, and I could feel the peace that came with my willingness to surrender.

Esteemable act for this week

This has been a big week. I had a planned hysterectomy on Monday to solve a problem of severe bleeding due to fibroids. And Tuesday Husband got some big news that equals a big step forward with his project. So the time for esteemable acts is now, because I can feel the sea of self-doubt churning.

At 46 my chances of bearing a healthy child were questionable at best, but now it's a definite no. As the date for the operation drew near I was very busy with work, so didn't have time to dwell on the sadness that came up from time to time. Which was a good thing I think. (And thankfully I've been able to talk to Husband, close friends and my therapist about it.)

We both realized we wanted another child almost the moment our son was born, but it didn't work out that way. We never went to extreme measures, I had one miscarriage at 15 weeks when I was 40, and despite lots of ovulation kits and pretty consistent trying, I didn't get pregnant. Even after I found out about Husband's sex addiction, I diligently kept going to the acupuncturist for fertility treatments, but I think I was under too much stress to get pregnant for the next couple years. Then Husband had medical issues of his own that made sex challenging. And then at the beginning of this year I had the period that wouldn't stop. I thought I was miscarrying because we'd been trying and my period was late, but after a month I ended up in the hospital with dangerously low hemoglobin levels. I was, as usual, busy with work and attributed my shortness of breath and exhaustion to allergies and not enough sleep. But no, actually I was slowly bleeding do death. (Kind of dramatic, but not an exaggeration.) The fact that it took me so long to notice brought up issues that I'm addressing. But that's not what this is about.

What this is about is Who am I if I'm no longer the wife who can bear children? I'm no longer young, I'm no longer in possession of a uterus, I'm not thin, I don't look like a model, I'm not the wide-eyed adoring girl he met 22 years ago, I'm not, I'm not, I'm not...blah blah blah...Who am I if I'm not an object of attraction to Husband?

I need to answer that question more than ever now, so it feels good to be working on it.

I've been thinking about my esteemable acts as things that I can do, actions that I can take without depending on someone else, actions that leave me with a sense of personal accomplishment, with the feeling that I'm doing what I was put on earth to do, with the feeling that if I died today, I'd have been doing something with my life that was meaningful to me and fulfilling in the moment.

All big things start with small steps, so the small steps I took this week all had to do with self-care. I took the week off of work and have been focusing on resting, spending time with my family, and reading two books: The 4-Hour Workweek, which focuses on freeing up more time; and Zen and the Art of Making a Living, which focuses on "creative career design."

Oddly, taking this kind of time for myself feels indulgent, so I'm counting it as an esteemable act, because I'm declaring by my actions that I am worthy of the time to consider and plan my future, that I don't have to be working every moment to be worthy and valuable - that I can declare my value and not have to prove it by working when I should be resting.

Like I said, it's a baby step.

Being loved used to be enough

Went to see my therapist today. I've been feeling better, not so heavy and sad, but I know I still have work to do on my self esteem issues so I was looking forward to getting back to it.

We talked about my anxiety over the prospect of Husband's success, and my fear that he'll get all caught up in his success and meanwhile I'll disappear. And that when he has success, that will make him attractive to hot young women who will look at him adoringly and giggle and make him feel smart and cool and sexy. My crazy head says to me, "If someone can have something better, then why wouldn't they want that? And what do I have to offer that would trump a hot young body, a gorgeous face and pie-eyed admiration? Isn't that much more attractive to a man than a 46 year old, nice looking but chunky woman who is sometimes distant, sometimes sad, and highly suspicious of you?"

One of my close girlfriends who knows what has happened between Husband and me told me that her therapist suggested doing "esteemable acts" as a way to build self esteem. I've been putting off thinking about what these could be for me because I've been so busy with work. (I also put of going to the doctor because of work earlier this year and ended up in the hospital with dangerously low hemoglobin levels because I was slowly bleeding to death, so I guess I don't learn, do I? I'm fully recovered now, and none the wiser apparently.) But I don't want to go along in this same self-esteemless rut and wake up in 5 years to see I've made no progress.

I also talked with my therapist about my sadness over losing the relationship I thought I had with Husband. I don't have any big accomplishments in life. I haven't climbed the Seven Sisters, or become a successful artist, or written a book, or traveled the world, or discovered anything, or cured anything, or become an expert in my field. Nor do I have the material trappings of success: no VP title, no big salary, no fancy car or house, no fantastic wardrobe. Before these things didn't bother me, because I always came back to my relationship. That was what I had. That was what was really important in life, and there I was successful. All that other stuff was icing on the cake - great if it came along, fine if it didn't. I had a loving partnership that was solid and true.

And then I didn't. Instead I had a husband who'd had sex with dozens of other women while we were married, spent tens of thousands of dollars on those prostitutes, and lied to me about all of it, even making me feel wrong and bitchy and crazy when I ever asked about things that I thought were questionable - odd charges on the credit card, for example (which I later realized were for subscriptions to prostitute review and reservation sites.) And I had the pain of feeling like I'd become forgettable to the person I thought loved me most in the world.

So now sometimes I feel I don't have anything. Not the material spoils, not the outward gains, and most important, not the trusted partnership that I valued above all else. I do have my amazing son, but I have to be careful to remember that relationship is ultimately about letting go. He's not my life partner. If he's healthy and if we have a healthy relationship, he'll be separating, not hanging around as I get to be a little old lady the way I envisioned Husband would.

Thinking about it, I realized I ended up in this position because I think that for me, being loved was enough. As long as I knew I was loved, other personal goals and desires became secondary. What could be more important that spending time with the person you love most in the world? Not that I gave up my dreams and interests. I just didn't pursue success or any particular accomplishment, didn't try to climb ladders and get ahead. I had my own life that was busy and full and didn't revolve around Husband. But I didn't have a strong agenda for myself. I didn't need one. I felt deeply loved, and that was enough. I didn't long for anything else.

But now I see that I stopped building my own identity out in the world. I wasn't an appendage to husband at all. But I stopped growing and shaping myself outside of my happy little world of family and close friends.

The best metaphor I can think of is boats. We weren't two boats anchored side by side. We were two boats, but he was the one with the anchor (at least that's how it felt) and I was tied to him with no anchor of my own.

So it's time to begin with esteemable acts, so that I don't disappear from the world if Husband forgets about me. (Not that I really think he will anymore, but the fear of that is hard to get past.) Time to define who I want to be in the world, what I want to do, and take action on those things. That doesn't have to take anything away from my relationship with Husband. And it will help me develop a relationship to myself. I will create my own anchor.