Sometimes I buy books just because the cover appeals to me. Cookbooks suck me in with the delicious food porn that graces the book front. I’m looking at you, my scrumptious 700 page copy of Bon Appétit Desserts.
It’s the same with wine. Walking through the aisles, those beautiful little labels sing a siren’s song, luring me with humor, simplicity, or beauty. Here’s my confession: I’ll buy a bottle simply because I like the label. I can hear the gasps of the semi-pro wine sommeliers that haunt the DivorcedMom pages. Hey, working though separation and divorce, don’t we all end up with some sort of superior wine knowledge by the end of the coming-apart process?
If I’m such a sucker for marketing department window dressing, how in the world did I end up with the very plain-covered, Daring Greatly?
The sheer personality of Brené Brown (as seen in her wildly successful TED Talks) led me to her book. If you haven’t discovered TED Talks yet, I highly recommend watching Brown’s talk as a starting point.
Inside my makeshift journal (aka an old desk planner from 2013), I’ve copied this paragraph:
When we stop caring about what people think, we lose our capacity for connection. When we become defined by what people think, we lose our willingness to be vulnerable. If we dismiss all the criticism, we lose out on important feedback, but if we subject ourselves to the hatefulness, our spirits gets crushed. It’s a tightrope, shame resilience is the balance bar, and the safety net below is the one or two people in our lives who can help us reality-check the criticism and cynicism. ~ Brené Brown, Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead
- Caring too little vs caring too much about what others think
- Defining ourselves by others vs defining ourselves by our own thoughts
- Ignoring helpful criticism vs being crushed by unnecessary criticism
Can someone successfully navigate these areas?
Yes, with close friends. Just one or two are needed to keep us from walking off the cliff edge with all of our other insane divorce-scarred lemming friends.
I like the title of this book: The Places That Scare You. We’re all scared by something. I want to know that I’m doing the best thing for me. There are days when I don’t know what that “best thing” is.
- Am I being patient enough?
- Am I being too patient?
- Is Husband #2 like Ashley Wilkes to my Scarlett O’Hara, dragging me on with indecision even though he’s already decided in his heart not to ever give us a fighting chance?
- Have I done everything that I could do?
- Am I ready to buy my retirement house? (in my mind, this will be the final blow to our shared future and cement my decision to move forward without Husband #2 in my life)
Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It’s a relationship between equals. Only when we know our own darkness well can we be present with the darkness of others. Compassion becomes real when we recognize our shared humanity. ~ Pema Chödrön, The Places That Scare You: A Guide to Fearlessness in Difficult Times
There are two very good friends I share my relationship struggles with. They know all about my trips to see Husband #2 and our upcoming cruise, and the December deadline. What I really like about conversing with them is that even when they don’t agree with my course of action, they are still willing to support me as I follow my own path. I think that’s what true support looks like.