Balancing Act

I'm sitting by a fireplace, flames dancing exquisitely.  In front of me there is a splendidly decorated Christmas tree full of colorful lights, surrounded by a functioning electric train. Holiday music plays at just the perfect volume throughout the house on the speaker system. The sun is setting, and the street is lined with luminaries waiting to be lit at 6:00 p.m.  Boxes are stacked beside me waiting to be wrapped.  I have a small piece of dark salty chocolate and a glass of wine calling to me on the end table. It's like I stepped right into Mayberry.

 It's perfect. Almost.

I'm sitting here alone.  Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love my alone time.  But tonight it's bittersweet. Tonight I'm working through all the emotions of missing my kids on Christmas Eve. They are with their father, eight houses down the street.

We are divorced, and on most days I handle this fact just fine.  I don't miss him at all. But my family being together, that's a whole other ball game.

I go back and forth between being fine with the situation to gut wrenching agony. And the hardest part is I don't always see the emotional switch coming.

I'm here in Philly for a week so I could squeeze in extra time with my big kids over their short winter break. It's been wonderful.  I'll take any extra minute with the kids that I can get.  I'm blessed to be able to travel up here.  Blessed to have such wonderful friends on my old street that welcome me into their home anytime I'm here.  Blessed to have such amazing children with whom I enjoy spending time.

I have so much to be grateful for, and I do not want to minimalize that or take it for granted.  And when I feel sad about my family being split apart, I almost feel guilty because so many have it so much worse.

But the sadness is there, and I do not want to pretend that it doesn't exist. 

I'm working on finding the balance between gratitude and honestly admitting my feelings of loss, sadness, and anger.

I do not like those feelings.  I want them to go away and leave me alone.  I do not want to be angry at my ex for making the choices he made to end our marriage and thus separating me from my kids half of the holidays. But along with the sadness and loss there is anger.

Anger is exhausting to me. It's not something I dwell upon, but as I sit and pay attention I notice that it shows up.

The whirlwind of love, excitement, joy, and gratitude swirled in with sadness, loss, anger, and frustration makes for a mess of my mindfulness meditation.

I'm not sure how to properly deal with all of it, so tonight I chose to write and share.  These are my feelings.  This is my heart: broken, beating, full, tired, teary, happy, grateful, and aware.

I'm learning to breathe through all of it.  I'm learning that my heart keeps beating. I'm learning that I must recognize and honor all the feelings. I'm learning balance. I'm not good at it, but I'm learning.

I'm

I'm back in my hometown.  I've been living back in east Texas for 5 months now.  I'm adjusting.  Only having my youngest living with me (my teenagers are in Philly) has been quite different.  I went from being a full time mom of three kiddos to daily parenting just one.  I cannot adequately put into words just how it feels to have my family split apart, but I'm breathing through the process and working on mindfully recognizing all the feels and making sure I fully appreciate the happy moments while not ignoring the sads.

My body is still recovering from the stress of the Divorce Years. That's what I'm calling the four years from my ex's initial declaration that he'd like a divorce, until the divorce was finalized.  It's kinda like The Wonder Years, only it's not. There were the two years that I fought to save my marriage followed by the two years we were separated, hammering out the details of the divorce paperwork.  And technically it's not completely over because I'm still waiting on a couple of re-finance deals to get my name off a two more rental properties we owned.  Once that's done, I think the dust can finally start to settle.

However, what I have noticed lately is that I no longer require 10-12 hours of sleep each night.  I know, that's a lot, right!  But it became the norm after the separation.  And just within the last month I've started to find myself being able to get out of bed a little easier having only logged 8 or 9 hours of sleep.

Don't get me wrong, my body is still reeling from all the stress.  My shoulders are ridiculously tight (my purse gets heavy and anyone who knows me knows my purse is always SMALL) and I ache just about everywhere. My joints and muscles ache enough to cause me concern, but I'm trying not to worry, because well, that can't make me better and will definitely make me worse.

I'm trying to be healthier.  I'm working on taking sugar out of my diet (not an easy job) hoping that will help. I have yet to manage a consistent daily yoga practice.  I am afraid I'm about to reach the point where I don't just want to do yoga, or need to yoga, but I HAVE to do yoga.  I know better.  I know I should be doing yoga daily.  I also know that I should not beat myself up for not doing all the things I know I should be doing.

I'm working on learning who I am in this new life of mine.  I'm still a mom, but not a wife.  I'm still homeschooling my youngest, but I'm working.  I am figuring out what it feels like to be a single adult. I'm trying to decide if I like the feeling or not, or even what the feeling is.  I'm reorienting, and getting to know myself.  I'm confused.  I'm happy.  I'm achy.  I'm unsure.  I'm anxious.  I'm settled.  I'm determined.