Courage

"I set you up to leave, of course. I see that now. People used to say to me, "Don't you think you deserve love? But I couldn't see how to relate to that question. Now I see that for every time that I have cut off love, someone has cut off their love for me. Not because God has punished me, but because I have punished myself. Guilt demands punishment, and subconsciously I felt guilty. I programmed you to punish me. I see that now, and I free us both. Thanks for playing your part so well. I wish for you, and I wish for me, a happier drama, a kinder end, and a sweeter ride than the one we put each other through.
Someday, when all of this is over, we will laugh at this. And you will say, "Do you remember when you were so mad at me, when I wanted to take that trip with my friends?"
And I will say, "Yes, I remember that. I didn't know it, of course, but I was totally invested in making you a monster, and I couldn't think of any other way to do it."
"You did quite well," you will say to me.
"But hallelujah," I will say to myself. "I don't have to do that anymore- to you or to me or to anyone." "
From Enchanted Love by Marianne Williamson

I did it. I contacted my ex. Not just an ex, THE EX. Two and a half years ago, he walked out of my life. I remember it like it was yesterday, the beginning of my "dark night of the soul." I had experienced pain before (my mother almost dying, my grandfather passing away, running away from home as a teenager, and the list goes on), but nothing could have prepared me for the absolute turmoil I experienced when my lover, my friend, decided to leave the room of my life. I would have done anything to make him stay, but he was gone.

I thought about giving up, quitting school, even dying. I was at my lowest point, then I realized I had a choice. I was going to become harder- bitter, angry, and fearful, or I was going to become softer- more loving, compassionate, and aware. I knew I wasn't going to be able to do it alone, so I asked God (or Life, or the Universe, or whatever you want to call it) for help. And help came. It came in the form of friendship, pills, therapy, new relationships, movies, books, accomplishments, and mistakes. I took it all in with gratitude. It was never easy, but I was never alone. Today, I am nowhere near finished with my inner work, but I am a much softer person. I am expanding in ways I never thought possible. I am finally loving myself, healing things, and exploring what really matters to me. I am a powerful creator. I am finally living.

I thank God that he came into my life. I'm also grateful that he left. His exit prompted me to go on a journey I would never have braved unless I was desperate. I finally found out Who I Am, and it's because of him. What a gift! In the words of James Arthur Ray, "True forgiveness is thanking you for giving me that experience."

When my ex and I last communicated, I told him that I would contact him when I felt that I had healed from the pain of our separation. Two and a half years have passed, and I've grown immensely. But I still didn't feel ready. There was still that part of me that wanted to wait until I "had it all together" before I reappeared. I imagined myself fitting into a size seven, going through a huge promotion at work, with a new, sexy man on my arm. (I wish I was joking.) There was also the part of that wanted to pretend our relationship had never happened, "move on," and hope to never see him again.

I couldn't. I couldn't pretend he didn't exist. This was someone with whom I had shared meaningful, loving life experiences. We laughed, cried, made love, challenged each other, grew together. I know that life is going to take us in different directions. He will have his career, his life partner, his children, and I will have mine. The fulfillment of our dreams will keep us apart in this lifetime, but having loved him so deeply, I will always be aware of his presence in this world.

Yesterday I wrote him an e-mail. To anyone else it would be nothing extraordinary. I congratulated him on having finished school, wished him well, and told him I was grateful for the time we spent together. I meant every word. Later in the evening, I was doing some reading, and I came across the passage above. I recalled having read it just after we parted ways, and I remember wishing that I could be that kind of woman. I got chills over my entire body when I realized that I have grown into that person. I may not be a size seven model with a McDreamy on my arm, but in the words of a friend, I am pretty fucking amazing.

Spring

If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.
Anne Bradstreet

After a long winter, Spring Break is finally here! It has already started off with the perfect weekend. My best friend and I drove down to the Wichita Mountains last night for some stargazing. We found ourselves uninterested in the astronomer and his telescope, content just to gaze up at the awesome night sky. Miles away from city lights and noise, we stared quietly in wonder. We know so little about this endless universe, but I have learned to love the questions.

We woke up this morning to a beautiful Oklahoma spring day. The weather was warm and breezy, and the bright blue sky was decorated with puffy white clouds. We spent the afternoon driving the four-wheeler through fields of bright green grass that stretched out for miles. We stopped once in a while to appreciate the signs of nature being reborn- deliciously fragrant blossoming trees, the warmth of the sun, butterflies dancing in the wind, baby calves and chicks timidly exploring their new world.

It seems as if nature is mirroring what is happening in my life. Winter was tough this time around. I went through a lot of messy growth. Inner work is hard work, don't let anyone convince you otherwise. I was beginning to wonder if any of my efforts had really changed anything when, as if in sync with nature, things started blossoming.

A few months ago, I was deep in debt with a negative bank balance. Today, bills are being paid off with ease, and my income is constantly increasing in the most surprising ways.

In December, I topped off a year of frequent colds and viruses with a three-week-long infection that I like to refer to as "The Plague of 2006." Since then, I've focused on thoughts of wellness, and I have found that I really enjoy taking care of my body in healthy ways. The result is that I have only been sick once in three months, and I recovered very quickly.

Oh, and get this, my boyfriend and I broke up on CHRISTMAS DAY last year. Three months later, I am grateful for both the relationship and the unexpected healing brought about by it's end. I've also gotten very clear about what it is I want (and don't want) in a relationship. My favorite phrase right now is, "I don't want someone who completes me; I want someone with whom I can celebrate my completeness." And you know what? I can feel it coming.

Inner work really is work, but it is so worth it. Just like the flowers, my soul is breaking through the dirt and blossoming in the most beautiful ways. Thank you, world. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Becoming

I want, by understanding myself, to understand others. I want to be all that I am capable of becoming.
Katherine Mansfield

We are all in the process of becoming. I look at the women in my life, and though our situations are different, there are so many similarities in what we experience. We are all on a journey back to who we really are. And let me tell you, it is tough. Don't let anyone convince you that being a woman is easy. It isn't. Making the transition from what the world wants us to be back to our whole selves is messy work.

Women have a tendency to look back at who they've been in this lifetime with disgust and embarassment. When I look back at my past self, I love her. I'm grateful for everything she chose, even those things I have a hard time admitting to others. Yes, I have been that girl. I've been in abusive relationships. I've given so much of myself to another that when he walked away, my world ended. I've been depressed, been to therapists, been medicated. I once believed that sex meant love, so I gave away the most intimate parts of myself to men who did nothing to deserve it. I have sought comfort in food, alcohol, and the arms of another. I allowed others to convince me I was fat, stupid, and unworthy.

One of the statements in my favorite book, Conversations with God, is that we must know who we are not before we can know who we are. I used to believe that meant being able to be feel something really negative, then saying, "That's not me." I think differently now. I believe that I have a light side (loving, compassionate, aware) and a shadow side (angry, depressed, hopeless). As a whole human being, there is nothing I am not. I am now able to love the parts of me that once brought me shame. At the same time, I am a powerful creator, and I have the ability to express any part of myself that I choose.

Here's a great example. For years, I have at best been a "survivor" of a tumultuous childhood and at worst a "victim." I went through life trying to keep the peace in my family, doing anything I could not to rock the boat. I learned very early on that dismissing my own feelings meant I was accepted by everyone in my family. I was very quick to "forgive," but you can't really forgive someone for hurting you if you've never allowed yourself to feel the hurt. I have spent twenty-five years on this earth without ever once realizing I was angry. I thought I understood "why" everyone did what they did, and so there was no reason for me to be angry, right? Two weeks ago, that ugly, angry side of myself surfaced. At first, I was horrified. "That's not me!" But it is. There is a young girl inside me that is saying, "I'm pissed! I didn't deserve any of this!" Finally, instead of fighting it, I embraced my shadow. I let myself get really angry for the first time in twenty-five years. At the end of that exhausting day, I lay in bed feeling lighter and more peaceful.

So yes, I am that girl, the one who is angry, ashamed, and feels unworthy. But I am also that woman, the one who is deeply aware of her purpose and power. Every day, through the messy and the beautiful, I am becoming the woman I really am. And oh, how I love her.

I Knew You'd Come

I miss my grandfather. He died eleven years ago, and this morning when I woke up, it felt like yesterday. As I type this, the tears are still flowing.

I wish you all could have met him. It is my hope that everyone in this world has someone like him in their lives. My childhood, like everyone's, wasn't an easy one. I imagine it is difficult for any soul to arrive here on earth, perfect and full of light, only to be told by the world that something is wrong with them. We're told we're good if our actions please another, and we're bad if they don't.

My grandfather, or "Papaw" as I called him, was the one person who really saw me. It didn't matter what my behavior was- I always looked the same in his eyes. I was always innocent, loving, and pure. While my other family members were coming and going in my life- due to marital separation, suicide attempts, and simply closing themselves off, he was always there. Every day after school, his old blue truck was waiting in the driveway. He always met me with a "bear hug" and an ear-to-ear grin. He would hide sticks of gum in one of his shirt pockets, and I had to guess which one held my treat.

I knew Papaw for fourteen years. In that time, I tried to get in as much time with him as I could. No matter what was going on in my life, it all disappeared when he pushed me in the swing under the old oak tree in his front yard. I loved to twist the ropes around and around until they sent me spinning, and Papaw would laugh at me, saying "You're as drunk as a skunk!" A side of him that he didn't dare show anyone else would come out in the silly songs he made up to make me laugh as we drove down country roads. Our favorite thing to do together was to fish in one of the ponds around his farm. He thought he was teaching me to fish, but I was learning so much more. I was learning the meaning of unconditional love.

Papaw was at the end of his life when I was just beginning mine. When I was eleven, I noticed him growing tired more easily. He would fall asleep in his big, comfy chair, and I would crawl into his lap. His big arms would wrap around me and hold me while he slept.

I'll never forget when I realized he was dying. My brother and I were spending time at his house, and my brother was on his way out to church. He stopped in the kitchen to remind my grandmother to call 9-1-1 if anything happened to Papaw. I was shaking when I pulled up a chair next to him. There was a lump in my throat when I, worried about his life after death, asked "Papaw, do you know God?" He replied, "Lindsay, I know God because I know you."

A few days later, the call came. On the way to the hospital, I silently prayed that I wouldn't be too late. I walked in to see him, pale and weak, in the sterile hospital bed. He wasn't smiling, he didn't look strong like I remembered. Everyone told me to say something to him, but they warned me that he wouldn't be able to respond. I slowly walked over to his side, and the room emptied. The beeping machines faded into the background, and for the last time, it was just Papaw and me together again. I took his cold hand in mine, and with a trembling voice I said "Papaw, wake up! We have to go fishing again!"

To my surprise, he squeezed my hand, and with all the strength he had left, he gently rubbed my fingers. Without saying a word, he told me that there wouldn't be another fishing trip. He told me that he wouldn't be watching from the pew on my wedding day, but he would always love me like no other man could. He silently told me that he wouldn't push my children on the swing under the old oak tree out front, but that he would hold them in heaven until he sent them down to me. I understood. I walked out of the room, down the hall, to a window, and I whispered my goodbye.

Here it is, fourteen years later, and there are still days like today when I miss him so much it takes my breath away. Since his passing, I have learned more about his past. He was severely abused as a child, and he endured years of a marriage to a woman who didn't return his love. I often think of the profound impact his love had on my life. I think of the countless days of my life that were brightened by his presence. Knowing what I know now about his past, I believe that it was me, a silly, brown-eyed little girl, that brightened his last years on this earth.

I was recently reading a moving article about two friends who served together in World War I. One of them was injured badly, and against his officer's commands, the other left the safety of the trenches to save his friend's life. While he was carrying his friend over his shoulder, he too was shot. As he lay dying, his commanding officer yelled at him that it wasn't worth dying to save someone who was obviously too far gone. His last words were "It was worth it, sir, because when I got to him, he said, 'Jim, I knew you'd come!'"

On the day I was born, Papaw's face lit up as he proclaimed, "That's my girl!" I imagine what we both felt that day when we met for the first time-"I knew you'd come."