All posts tagged: personal

Bustin’ through a break-up with some badass Buddhism, Part One

Three weeks in, and how am I going you wonder? I’m doing OK actually. Definitely avoiding going out, and ringing old friends for long chats and debriefs, trying not to say the same things over and over. I’ve had two therapy sessions, done a bunch of journalling, and surprised myself two weekends ago by ‘getting onto the cushion’ at my monthly meditation day. “The cushion”, G? What do you mean? Well, once a month (via Zoom at the moment), a group of 25-35 women go spend some time with Yoda Carol Perry, listening to her teachings on the Buddhist Dharma, and meditating several times during the day. It’s literally the highlight of my month; I’ve written about it before HERE. Even via Zoom- and sitting in my car last time because I had no wifi reception at home- the collective meditation experience is so much stronger than my solo sits. The structure online is 3 hours shorter, and we miss our gloriously chatty shared gourmet lunch, but in essence it’s the same: Welcome circle/check in, …

“Can we hold a funeral for this love?”

Break ups suck, we all agree.Whether mutual or one party initiating; whether a shocking surprise or long slow death; whether relief or torture, short or long-term, the loss of a loving connection tears at the heart. We know this. We’ve all felt it. I’m nearly 54, and can’t believe I’m still working my way through this sad swamp, grabbing at the tree roots of friends to pull me out. Black sticky smelly mud weighs down my shoes, bedraggles my hair. Yes, I’m alive- I’m safe from the virus, the pantry is full, and I’m typing this in front of the fire while the rain drums overhead. I’m safe. But my soft bleeding heart is simply bleeding. She patches herself up for a few hours; strikes a bold pose to a couple of upbeat songs, then wilts as the day moves on. Until bedtime, when all the lonely ghosts inside drift up, casting around for comfort and to be held. To be soothed, and lullabied. To be warmed, and heard. To be safe. ‘There’s nothing to …

Racked with sobs at 5.30am: break ups suck

Yes, these virus times are horrifying, terrible, weird. Yes, these virus times are weird, transformative, full of potential for change. Yes, these virus times illuminate privilege, selfishness, and inequality on a global scale we can truly see. And these times also suck for a break-up. But after two years (minus the upcoming fortnight), my ‘Comet’ love just imploded. Exploded actually. Which finds me sobbing at 5.30am, having been awake since 3, thrashing over recent emails in my mind, composing a wide variety of healthy destructive neutral  unnecessary replies. I’m 53, nearly 54: I’ve done a shit ton of break ups. I know about all the stages, in no particular order- the denial, relief, shock, sadness, rebound fuck, period of isolation, anger, care, ‘let’s be friends’, reunions, accusations, apologies, gratitude etc etc. Some break ups evolve to friendship, and some certainly don’t. But this fresh period right now, this stomach-churning, grief-stricken, anxiety-ridden, anger-fuelled maelstrom is exhausting. One good thing though: the gag order about romance blogging has been blown up. I can write whatever the hell …

It’s official: I’ve made the Tree Change… and wow, just in time!

Yes, it’s happened and I’m excited, as well as still a bit anxious of course. Moving house is never an easy task, and creating a whole new sense of ‘home’ does push my insecurity buttons. But honestly, it feels like it’s been as easy as possible. In fact, I must admit it seems as though the Universe has almost fallen over itself to make this flow beautifully. My one last major concern was what to do with my current home, as I couldn’t afford to sell it quite yet. Who to rent it to? Could I handle really ‘letting go’ of a home base my boy and I had had since 2005? And then my gorgeous, cheeky, smart-as-a-whip son ‘19.5’ rested his arm around my shoulders and said: ‘I’ve been waiting years for you to move out Mum: let me move back in and rent it from you.’ P E R F E C T Like, so totally PERFECT I couldn’t stop grinning. But I had to be cool. ‘Sweetie, that’s a lovely offer, but …

I’m crap at transitions, & ’empty nest’ is a big one (Part Two)

So as you saw in Part One, I have a new dream of moving onto a community in the rainforest, 20 minutes from my current cute Australian town. But I was struggling with anxiety. ‘What’s underneath it all?’ the therapist asked me. ‘You sound informed, supported, capable, ready- what’s going on? What are you scared of?’ I sat, twisting the sodden tissue, cursing my sensitive stomach while I dug down through the layers… And came face to face with a desperate fear of failure. It just seemed too good to be true, and I couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t believe that after a year of fruitless searching for a rural property, & listening to my growing yearning for a tree change + a sense of community, it had actually fallen into my lap via word of mouth, perfect timing, and feasible financial gymnastics. I couldn’t delight in it. I had to worry about the details, and foresee as many problems as possible. It almost felt like my duty to do so, even though it didn’t …

Gratitude When It’s Not Expected

Originally posted on LoriLoo:
I’m grateful for the way Alzheimer’s is affecting my mom’s brain. I attended a Moth Story Slam last night here in Asheville. I love these events. Hearing people tell stories. Being in the presence of vulnerability. Feeling the support of the community as people reveal their joy, their sadness, their fears. The theme this month was “Gratitude.” I thought about preparing a story to share, and then sitting with mom for four hours after a run in with the dining hall manager, spending two hours at the bank dealing with dad’s estate, and writing thank you notes took precedence and the story was never practiced, though it resided in my thoughts. A few weeks ago, I heard some women my mom’s age talk about their “eggshell daughters.” I had never heard this term and asked, “What’s that mean?” They explained that though they loved their daughters tremendously, they felt like they always had to walk on eggshells around them – the tiniest thing would start an incident. “Hm,” I thought. I…

Here’s Part Two of shortlisted story ‘Earth’

But did you miss Part One?? Don’t do that! It’s HERE Part Two: … Then Sam stopped, hands on hips, and squinted into the distance. ‘Shit, I don’t think we can get through along here after all. Let me look at the map and compass again.’ She frowned at the contour lines on the creased page, telling her a story of steep cliffs and gullies, without revealing the safest route. ‘Sorry honey, but the only way we’ll get past that massive overhang is to tackle the stone country along the top of the ridge. It’s a bit like a jigsaw puzzle up there, which you can never solve. Brace yourself.’ Kelly clenched her jaw for a second. ‘I never knew off-track walking was quite this tough,’ she admitted. ‘Especially for old ladies like us.’ Sam smiled at the familiar joke, but her forehead worried, as they tightened waist straps and headed away from the water without looking back. Within thirty minutes, thighs screamed with lactic acid as they scrambled over boulders and fallen tree branches, …

Grappling with the spaciousness of uncertainty, by Yoda herself (Part 3)

Having finished our first 30 minute meditation from Part 2, and admitted any latecomers we’d locked out in a boundary-setting exercise in Part 1, the lesson began. ‘Uncertainty is one of the 3 main characteristics of human existence,’ Yoda Carol said, sitting her 70+ self on a floor cushion like the rest of us. ‘It’s difficult to endure, so we all cling to certainty. Yet clinging creates further suffering, doesn’t it?’ Well I know I’m clinging to my meditation aspirations as a way to calm anxiety, channel greater creativity, and nurture more peaceful personal relationships, that’s for sure. Is it not going to work? ‘We always want to make the “right decision”, weighing pros and cons, grasping for certainty. But we are just creating more attachment, and more eventual suffering.’ Damn. I thought my pros/cons list-making was a fabulous strategy. ‘There is more ease and wellbeing in letting go, so that we can focus on our actual needs in the situation as it unfolds in real time…’ Would that work for astronauts? Or brain surgeons? …

Teenage Tuesday: ‘My son just turned 19. Guess what I did when I turned 19?’

He was born at home on the back verandah as planned, after a long, slow labor. I’d paced up and down the driveway for 2 days, wrapped in a quilt, asking the night sky to bring me my baby. And finally, with dawn’s 5am light, he came. Every year when he was little, we seemed to wake up around that time, and lie there together contemplating the celebration of it. This year I was working almost 2000kms away, but still opened my eyes at exactly 5am; I admit I shed a few tears as I reflected on the passing of so much time, as he’s grown into such a tall, capable young man. For his birthday, I’d bought him 3 tickets to an 80s/90s dress up disco dance party, the same as last year (a winning gift). I knew he’d have had a late night, but texted anyway: “5am- Happy Birthday Moment, darling boy.” No reply, as expected. But I took myself for a sunrise beach walk, revelling in the gorgeous environment, and the knowledge …

Thanks dear friend: the relationship end CAN indeed be a good thing

One of my dearest friends (who is actually a proper, published ‘writer’), still finds the time to follow most of my news by reading my little blog. Thanks H! She’s in a very longterm, very committed relationship, and is one of my inspirations in that regard. She calls me once in a while, or we meet on the beach for a walk and non-stop talk, while I update her on all my romantic gossip and adventures. Today she sent me this article called ‘A Non-Tragic View of Breaking Up’  , who’s opening paragraph drew me right in: News of the end of relationships tends to be greeted with deep solemnity in our societies; it is hard not to think of a breakup except in terms of a minor tragedy. People will offer condolences as they might after a funeral. This in turn reflects an underlying philosophy of love: we are taught that the natural and successful outcome of any love story should be to seek to remain with a person until their or our death and …