Tuesday I drove to Limantour Beach, the birthplace of my soul, and hiked for four hours. I headed north, sticking close to the water’s edge, looking for whales. The clouds were an almost stormy, white-gray, without water in their bellies. They streaked back to the horizon, like the ridges on a sea shell, nestled together and leading to one point. The water shimmered like shattered mirror glass, colorless. I spent the first hour marveling at the insane beauty of my ‘gym’. The next three hours were a little more intense.
I started thinking about some of the comments HGM has received recently (Massive apologies for the delay in getting them all posted. Some require a little pondering and I’m enjoying some time with my visiting family.), being so grateful to have the opportunity to connect with so many people and share our wisdom, when a thread between a recent group of unrelated comments flew at me like birds. It was a collection that all referenced subtle ways in which we give up our voice in a relationship. This one in particular stood out:
” I regret not having pushed for definitive answers while having a serious discussion.”
H, let’s start a band: The Mutes. I’m super experienced at this. I can withhold questions with the best of them. I sit quietly, thinking, but never getting to the heart of what I’m trying to say so that I can actually say it. Something blocks me from getting it out.
I’ve read H’s sentence a dozen times and it still gives my spine the shivers. Around the 5th time my stomach turned. My marriage dragged on and decomposed in large part because we weren’t effective communicators. I was too scattered emotionally and The Genius was too emotionally guarded when we tried to tackle big relationship issues. Both of us needed to improve our skills if we were to have a chance at sustaining a marriage that was already challenged by extended separation and trust issues.
I was aware that our communication skills, when it came to serious discussions, were pitiful. But (I am so mortified to admit this) I never made the connection that this inability to have a productive conversation centered on our relationship could tank our marriage. Not exactly Mensa Material, eh? I ignorantly thought it would all just work itself out. That we’d grow through it. Instead we blew it up.
I like to communicate. I’m a writer and a talker. I happen to excel at the one that does not a healthy relationship support. I’d be a GREAT online girlfriend, but I’m not really up for that. From the palace guard to a federal agent, I’m confident I can get just about anybody to open up via the written word. You’d think the drop off in skill level for plain old talking wouldn’t be so dramatic, but the real head-shaker is, Why didn’t I realize how much I needed to improve in this area in order to live a happy and fulfilled life personally and within my marriage? How did I not catch on to the fact that I never had a probing conversation with The Genius about our relationship in its later years and that maybe that was a real bad sign about the health of our marriage? Maybe I did realize it and I just ignored it.
Towards the end of our marriage, the last year-ish, I believe I simply lost interest in trying to have conversations about our relationship. They never turned out well. I’m no fool. (Or so I thought.) Why keep going back to the table when nothing was ever accomplished? I perfected the art of steering clear. I crammed my discontent so far down I probably passed it on to some poor Aussie who is now pissed at The Genius and doesn’t even know why. I couldn’t ask the right questions that I needed answers to, and The Genius would never offer up personal insights without being waterboarded first. So our relationship fossilized.
What began to concern me in hour 2 of my trek along the beach was the realization that not being able to communicate effectively wasn’t the root of the problem. It’s not to be tossed aside, because tactical communication skills are essential to a healthy relationship, but the root was, of course, harder to unearth. I turned to the Pacific, taking in its shattered mirror brilliance and softened my gaze so that the sea turned into billions and billions of diamonds. There’s something here, I thought. It’s not that I couldn’t formulate the questions, but it is fair to say that I didn’t know the answers I needed. I was getting closer. Breath. Breath. I tried to control conversations without knowing where it was I needed it to go. So they spun and spun, aimlessly. Almost, not quite.
It finally fell free…
In the heat of a conversation between me and a man with whom I have a relationship I become ungrounded and shut down emotionally. This doesn’t happen with my family or friends, and it didn’t happen in business. In those situations I keep my focus, I’m present enough to remember where we started, I can follow the threads and probe, and carry the conversation to a conclusion where something is gained, progress is made. With a man, if it starts to get intense, I shut down. The space between my collar bones and my belly button gets dense with fog. I just want the conversation to end. I can’t see that by sticking it out when it’s painful we might get to the end and actually feel good.
Instead I give up.
In hour 3 of my hike I came across a bird sitting about 10 feet up from the water’s edge. As I approached it became clear he was injured. I slowly walked toward him until I was standing over his body. His left wing was hanging low and slightly spread. It was broken. He looked at me with a small, brown eye as I bent down. He didn’t flinch when I reached out my hand and with my index finger stroked his feathered head.
At first he stayed still, but within seconds he began enjoying the feel of my touch. He moved his head around like a cat, so I wouldn’t miss a spot. When I brought my hand under his chin and stroked the feathers on the underside of his neck he stretched it up and around, side to side. The only thing missing was a purr. This bird was in heaven.
After 10 minutes of heavy petting I peeled myself away from him, taking pictures as I walked backwards. I didn’t want to leave. At one point he pulled himself up on his feet and pointed his beak to the sky. He remained in that position until I could no longer see him as I made my way south, past the ‘Cliffs of Insanity”, and over the rocks that spend some of their days and nights under the tide. I turned to head back only when I realized that those rocks might become submerged soon, leaving me stranded on the wrong side. (Had that happened, this would have been quite a post. If it was written at all.)
An hour and a half had transpired since I left the bird. I was looking out to sea, hoping for a whale sighting, when I spotted a vulture near the surf. My heart sank. I approached, the vulture flew away, and I saw the bird laying there, his head gone, the very head I was petting 90 minutes earlier, now in a vulture’s stomach. I burst into tears.
Our shared encounter was his last fulfilling encounter on the blue marble. He rode the waves with a broken wing, got to shore and hung in there, through the pain. He was rewarded with an experience unlike any he had had before, I imagine. It was certainly my most intimate encounter with a bird. We both reveled in it.
Now, his end was unfortunate, but nature rolls that way. I bet if I got to talk to him after his head had been picked clean like a happy hour wing, he would say that, after all this time, he finally got to know one of those big things that move along the sand and occasionally take to the waves. That our encounter was worth the pain he had to endure to get to shore. That he was glad he didn’t give up because he was loved before he was taken.
His spirit guided me today, during a conversation with The Genius. I stayed grounded, I didn’t give up, I expressed how I was feeling and what I needed and got what I asked for. It was miraculous. And I can’t wait to tell you all about it.
Thank you, bird.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Thank you for making me sob hysterically this morning. Thank goodness I had just dropped the kids at school.
Please stop picking yourself apart into little tiny pieces – it is painful to watch. Oh and my friend and I will also be joining your band!
Rock on!
A,
I have to get in deep. I really do. You should just be psyched I didn’t post the after picture of the bird. You’d still be sobbing.
I’m going to get myself back together, eventually. Hang in there! We’ve got music to make.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Cleo –
I just discovered your blog and have already read all of your posts. I am amazed and awed by your strength. It is so incredible that you have taken something so hurtful and turned it into such a magnificent and positive thing. I admire you. You go girl!
K,
Thank you for your kind words. My initial goal was to make my divorce the best thing that ever happened to me. I am on my way, but I didn’t realize how hard it would be to pull it off. This process is the most intense thing I’ve gone through. I’m going minute-by-minute. Your support and the support of everyone at HGM is what is making this journey so fulfilling and productive in such short order. I am forever grateful.
Love yourself,
Cleo
I don’t understand how you, such a compassionate person, could have left the injured bird on the beach. You stroked his head, you comforted him, you knew his wing was injured. Ultimately, by CHOOSING to leave him on the beach as you continued your hike, you sentenced him to death. There are a hundred ways in this day and age you could have gotten him some help. Wildlife rehabbers could have fixed this small seabird’s wing and he very well might have been released to live out the rest of his natural life. The easiest thing is to cradle a wounded bird in your sports bra in the center between the breasts (a natural cradle), which would have kept him warm and out of danger until you could have called for help.
For one who is searching for deeper meaning in the Encounters she experiences, and giving/receiving from the Universe, it surprises me that it didn’t occur to you to give back to this creature by saving his life, when it could have been done SO easily. Why, Cleo? Why?
E,
I thought about it and then remembered the sign at the entrance to Limantour which says that it is against the law to remove any plant or animal from the protected seashore. Which I would have had to do in order to drive him 20 miles to the closest vet. But the real catalyst for leaving him there was my intuition which said loud and clear that it is in a place such as Pt. Reyes that Nature is to take its course.
I hope it was the right thing to do. Thank you for posing the question.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to know when to walk away. Given all the facts, you chose to do so, you let, as you said, nature take it’s course.
It’s a metaphor for what you are doing here too. The difference is you won’t be eaten alive, you’ll be stronger for it.
L,
The metaphor was not lost on me. And it came full circle for me when I realized, in essence, that The Genius did eat me alive because I allowed him to by not conversing through the painful conversations, but shutting down my voice. I made a commitment at Limantour that day to never allow that to happen again. No matter how awkward I am at it, I’m not backing out of any intense conversations with men for the rest of my days. I’m staying the course. Hopefully I’ll have the opportunity. Thank you, L.
Love yourself,
Cleo
E.L.,
I was also very disturbed by Cleo’s choice to leave the bird to die, especially considering how thoughtful a person she seems through her writing. I could have never walked away from a creature like that, especially after having what Cleo described as such an intimate connection.
Cleo, I’ve been reading your blog for a while now and really enjoying the big picture thoughts and feelings you’ve been working through, but I’m so upset about your decision to leave the bird. It’s left me with a very uncomfortable feeling, like it was a really inconsistent action with what I have interpreted of you through your writing, although I know that’s not quite fair considering we don’t know each other. But how could you not have seen value in helping the bird continue his life? How could you walk away, especially after all the hurt you’ve been through?
A,
I appreciate your stance. If I had been on a street in Olema and came across a bird who was injured I would have helped, as I did when I was back east and found a bird while I was on a run. I carried him 2 miles to a vet. He was just a little song bird.
Do you remember the post where I said I was a rules follower? The one about my Divorce Makeover? I wasn’t joking. I’m a rules follower. It states clearly all over Pt. Reyes National Seashore that it is against the law to take a plant or animal from the seashore. Against the law. There is also no cell service for miles so I couldn’t call a vet and ask him or her to come to Limantour.
I’m not sure if you are form this area or not, but people are pretty hyper-conscious about all things nature here. That includes allowing nature to take its course. While it might sound cruel to some, that vulture needed a meal. I’ve witnessed the food chain in all its glory in many places (most memorably in Costa Rica where a single wasp hauls a tarantula back to its nests for a snack), and it is as nature designed.
I thought the sea would take him back but he met a different end.
Alas, also consistent with my philosophy, nothing is ever as good or bad as it seems. Perhaps, just perhaps, it was his time to go and he was looking forward to it. Who am I to judge.
I appreciate your thoughts and hope that I have been able to articulate more clearly my reasoning regarding the sea bird.
Love yourself,
Cleo
O.K., but then how could you spend the time bonding with the bird, knowing that you would abandon him/her to a cruel death? The actual death was probably the least cruel, at least the quickest, compared to drowning or starving? Maybe quickly wringing her/his neck would have been more compassionate? (Those words do not translate into E-writing as a sincere question, an exploration of alternatives both respectful of nature and compassionate toward a living creature in pain; please try to hear my intent, which is honest inquiry, not sarcasm or other put-down.)
S,
Thank you for the guidance on how to read the comment, and I mean that sincerely. I would have thought you were being sarcastic, which I you’re not. Your question brings up an interesting correlation for me, and an important lesson I have learned.
It wasn’t for me to hasten the bird’s demise, rescue it, or select another path to death. It’s much like meeting someone, bonding, and coming to learn that you have to walk away and you don’t know how that person will fare in your absence. The only journey I am here to control is my own. Intuitively, I have offered assistance in the past to the wounded, animal and human. This time, at Limantour, there was no intuitive urge.
While this isn’t specific to your comment, I’ll add this here: What if that’s exactly how that bird wanted to die? Is it really my role to step in a wrestle control of his journey away from him?
This has been so eye-opening for me, this discourse on the bird. He’d be thrilled to know that he’s helping me to explore so many relationship issues because of our short time together. I am reminded that it is not for me to alter others’ journeys without careful and thoughtful consideration.
S, thank you for taking the time to comment so thoughtfully on this post.
Love yourself,
Cleo
HUGE, HUGE ideas and realizations in this post, Cleo. I understood immediately why you couldn’t take the bird, BTW. I see myself in the clear mirror of your description of what happens in conversations with loved ones, especially men-I-am-invoved-with. This is something TO WORK ON. My therapist has been a huge help, but you stated the problem very clearly. I hope knowing this will help me to stay calm and speak my mind.
C,
Such huge ones that it took until 5AM to give full birth to this post. I am going to be looking so fierce at about 5PM today. And I don’t mean all Beyonce-fierce. I mean simply fierce. As in shield your eyes fierce. But it felt good to get it out, as it always does.
I’m glad it resonated with you. Thank you for taking the time to comment.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Cleo,
I’ve been reading and lurking in the shadows for awhile, but I was compelled to comment today. You are truly a wonderful writer and your passion shows in your blog. I hope you are working on other writing projects as well because your descriptive prowess is magical!
Your blog has made me look deeper at myself and my marriage and is forcing me to take stock of where we are and where we need to be. I’ve been trying to just ignore my feelings and let things be, but it hasn’t yielded the results I’d hoped for. I know that I have to be more open and honest about my feelings and also less critical and bossy. I am a control freak as well and am also older than my young husband, in both age and worldly wisdom. I don’t think marrying him was a mistake, but there are times when I feel like I am raising two children instead of just the one 4 year old.
I wish you well on your journey to being truly yourself and hope that I am able to join you when I muster up the courage.
Thank you for sharing your honesty,
Missy
M,
Love the lurkers! I hope you wear something dark and mysterious whilst running about the maze of HGM. Thank you SO much for your super complimentary words. I was up until 5AM this morning writing the post. Sometimes they flow in a two hours and sometimes they take 7. So right now I write only for HGM and all the rest of my writing time is dedicated to the comments. But someday soon I hope to be able to factor in even more writing. At the very least try and keep it to non-vampire hours.
I’ve learned that it takes a tremendous amount of energy to ignore feelings. I remember the first time the concept was relayed to me and I brushed it off. How can it take energy to ignore something? You just forget it’s there! Nope. No can do. Feelings are pesky little buggers. They demand to be recognized, but once they’ve gotten a little love they drift off leaving you free to breath.
There seems to be so many similarities in our personality that I’m hopeful some of what I am writing resonates with you. I’d be happy to be the guinea pig and you can take what works and leave behind the rest. Fully present in the moment. Fully present in the moment. Say it with me…fully present in the moment.
And stay close…
Love yourself,
Cleo
S,
Many apologies for not responding sooner. I know where you are. I’ve been there. And I am going to be there again.
Where to start is a GREAT question. The first thing that popped out to me about your comment was this: “pretending to be a 1950′s housewife”. Pretending, hiding emotions, not dealing with situations as they arise all sap your energy in massive ways. It’s not your role to pretend. Your role is to live your life in your truth. BE who you are. And if someone doesn’t love who you are then they need to move on or make a commitment to get to know the real you.
I believe you can draw the strength from inside yourself by being fully present in the moment. Simplify. Like this: Today I simply need to bring joy to myself. I need to connect to the Earth (you will get AMAZING buckets of strength from the Earth) and appreciate the beauty in it. I need to look for it – seek it out. I need to not react to the energies of anyone. I will remain centered in joy and have compassion for those who aren’t joyful.
Start there. And try not to ‘own’ the emotions of anyone else. Also, don’t let your emotions run you. Acknowledge them, notice them as soon as they surface. Then take some time to understand what triggered them, and then send them on their way. If you feel yourself getting stressed or frustrated or scared say to yourself, “Nothing is ever as good or as bad as it seems. Stressing will get me nowhere good. So I will breath it out and go look for some joy.”
You’ll have to force yourself to do it, as I did. But after a few weeks of practicing this to the best of your ability you will see and feel a shift. The Universe wants to take care of you, but it will only take care of you if you take care of yourself. Otherwise, what’s the point in expending its energy? Trust, S, trust. You came here for a reason…
Love yourself,
Cleo
Where do I start? I stumbled upon you during my daily peruse of the SFGate. I too. It’s been 5 years. I stayed. I question it every day. We were 30 + years in. Never in a million years would I have thought. Sex was the best part of our relationship. It was the glue. Was, was, was. Daily I’m confused. Thanks for putting a microscope to it. Don’t know what my next move is.
Scared to Death
B,
Oh, B. I imagine your next move will make itself known when you want to make it. I reflect back to post-Pocket Call when I was completely upended, I learned the power of staying in the moment and loving yourself. Start there. Take on no more than that. Sit with your fear, your confusion and just look inside to see how those emotions make you feel. It’s exactly what I did, and now I can have all these emotions, which is a key part of being human, but they don’t own me. Yours don’t need to own you.
Start there and do it for a couple days. Watch your hands while you are washing them, note the smells in real time, feel the power of your heart beating, and take in all the beauty of nature you can cram in you. I feel that nature will be your best grounder. Get on the earth. Lay on the earth. Let her cradle you. May sound hokey, but it really works. Really. And then let me know how you are doing. Stay close and do not fear.
Love yourself,
Cleo
I found you a few weeks ago too, and like to check in once a week or so. It’s hard to read you sometimes, because you are, in a funhouse mirror sort of way, where I was about four years ago. When I found out my husband had been cheating on me from the beginning of our relationship. But we were together for eight years, married for two, before I discovered it.
I get the delving experience and how tricky and mind bendy it is– I myself went on this whole therapy journey that took about two and a half years to slog through, where I thought I had it figured out, realized I didn’t, went deeper, got surprised, went deeper… my therapist called it peeling the onion.
I just wonder, while reading you sometimes, if anyone has ever suggested your h. is a sex addict, and if you’ve checked into any of the literature around that. If so, I strongly suggest the whole ‘trauma model’ model for spouses of sa’s, rather than the traditional codependent stuff often peddled by addicts who want spouses to take responsibility for their choices….
Cause that’s what I think when I read you. I get that it will take, probably
years to get to a place where you can reflect back and KNOW whats happened, deep in your bones.
But don’t beat yourself up too much about communication or trying ‘harder,’ or any of those what-ifs. Sounds like, to me, you were living with a probable s.a., many of whom are champion narcissists, who probably spent his life spinning a web of lies. It would not surprise me if this was more like his fourth or fifth girlfriend. Or worse.
And he’d probably love it if you thought his choices were your fault too.
Never lose sight that HE decided to deceive, cheat and lie about it, for years. Whatever your quirky issues may be (cause we all have them), that’s something you could never do. You deal in truth, he in lies. It’s like going to the devil and expecting the truth. You’ll never win: That way lies madness.
Best of luck to you.
K,
“I get that it will take, probably years to get to a place where you can reflect back and KNOW whats happened, deep in your bones.”
I bet you are absolutely right. I believe that I only have a small picture of what really went on in my marriage. If he can rationalize away a four year affair then imagine how easy it would be for him to have a one-night stand and act like nothing happened. It’s not just understanding the events that happened but also to learn to be better at discernment. Being able to see in someone traits that they want to keep hidden.
I HAVE to get better at seeing the obscure. Thank you for bringing that to my attention. Discernment. Discernment. I’m going to ponder that today on my hike. So happy and grateful that you took the time to comment.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Hi Cleo – you are staying so grounded and present when you respond to the posters who are upset about the bird. Careful – your growth is showing.
A.
A,
You are so right. 10 years ago I would have gunned for a moral victory. I am so much more empathic now. Did you also notice how gentle their comments were? Very different from what you see in many online environments. I really appreciated their desire to express themselves and that they did it with grace.
I AM growing! Yay! I feel like celebrating…
Love yourself,
Cleo
I too cried after reading this….it tugs on us for different reasons. I don’t know what your musical taste is, but I think you should listen to the song “Perth” by Bon Iver. It reminds me of a re-awakening and strength, particularly the mid to end of the song. I often use music to heal myself…and certain songs just really resonate with me. I had to share it with you.
Best,
T
T,
Thanks for sharing the song. So sorry for the delay in posting it. It’s beautiful. Man, I did not realize that my writings on my encounter with the bird would result in such tears! I LOVE how all of you are so in touch with your emotions, and you let them be and then fly away. Just like the bird. I will never forget him. Nor should I. His appearance in my life was no accident.
Love yourself,
Cleo
I have been listening you from afar. I like the evolution of your posts. It’s like if you fast-forwarded time and zoomed out, your roller-coaster ride looks like a straight line toward goodness and healing. It’s so often we don’t reflect on our own actions but we can so often see our actions reflected from those around us. Does that even make sense?
I wonder if birds have tear ducts. Do they cry? Did that bird know it was time for it to die?
I live in a place where I can watch animals all day long from my home/office. Mostly, they are animals that upon seeing them I “ooh and ahh”, but that they live together and interact so calmly. Cotton tail bunnies, deer, quails, little birds all just nibble away within 3 feet of another. And then there are the vultures and hawks that dive bomb or circle overhead that send these guys scattering. It’s like the prey “know” they are prey.
I used to like to pretend that I’m a predator, maybe even acting like a predator sometimes; putting on fancy suits that mimic our culture’s desire that we look valuable and work hard, telling people to do things, but your finding that sweet dying bird was like, well aren’t we all just trying to be alive in this great big vast space. Who are we trying to be anyway?
I look toward the north, Limantour and beyond, and put my arms out to give you a big hug for sharing your journey. I think it’s OK to not post, too, if you can’t or forget or just had too much fun stuff to do. We know you are OK and you never need excuses from sharing. I cannot speak for any of your other fans/readers, but one day, I hope that your title of your blog will just change one day into something like “Goddess of this awesome blue marble” and HBM will fade into memory.
sway like the wind.xo
bamboogirl
B,
Ahhhh….big sigh – today I will sway like the wind every chance I get. Except when I’m hiking so as not to plummet off the mountain.
“…well aren’t we all just trying to be alive in this great big vast space?” Yes! We aren’t simply living, we are trying to be ALIVE! Really engaged, really aware, really putting ourselves out there to experience what our soul needs to experience in order to take full advantage of this opportunity to live in the 3D.
We can gain so much from being with nature. An endless opportunity to gain insight, gather strength, and stoke our internal fire.
Thank you for taking the time to comment and for being here. Don’t be alarmed if one day the name changes…
Love yourself,
Cleo
Oh Cleo, you’re simply brilliant. You need to know how much I look forward to absorbing your words, sitting with them, pondering, and processing the meaning for me in my own life. May sound a little obsessed, but yes, I’ve printed every posting since day 1, three hole punched it with a binder label (LOVE my labeller), highlighted key points for me, made notes. I know, nuts.
My experience closely parallel’s yours (ex spent a year with the psyche prof, we were done in 2010…. maybe it was 4yrs!!!!!), and you need to know how much you’ve helped me, and so many others on your journey. I’m clearly not a writer, have a jumbled mess of thoughts in my head, and every time you post I say out loud 10x “Yes, EXACTLY”!!! You’re amazing Cleo, and on my 2hr mountain bike ride tonight through the dense woods with trees zipping past me, jumping logs and splashing through muck, I felt grounded with nature. Such a healer the woods are for me. Grounded… it felt so very good. I caught myself smiling (when I wasn’t making an ‘eek’ face at near head over handlebars!) and when I got to the car, I gave myself a huge hug. A real one, with eyes closed. You’re helping me find my way, and love myself again. To forgive myself for my part in my life, my choices, owning it, feeling it, and learning trusting myself again by listening to ME. Because of that, I’m feeling grateful for so many things again. Yes, we have so much to learn moving forward, but I feel it, we’re on the right path. We’re learning every day in this life classroom of ours, will go through many ups and downs. We have so much to learn, but wow, a huge hug to us for the hell and back we’ve endured, and are learning that yes, we can overcome.
We’re here for you Cleo, you don’t need to find answers for us, we are with you on your journey, as sisters, as you uncover truths and such marvelous epiphony’s. You’re simply an amazing woman, and thank you for everything you’ve given all of us through this life altering experience.
Sara
S,
Oh, my. Thank you so much for your praise. I really love the process of living up to your kind words, aiming to be brilliant and amazing daily. It’s made life fun.
The binder! That’s awesome. I absolutely love that.
And then the ride…how utterly gorgeous. Yes, you are a writer. I felt the hug, I was hanging over the handlebars with you, and I closed my eyes when you jumped logs. (Really? You jumped logs? That rocks.)
S, it’s clear you are amazing, too. I’m stoked we’re in the same class. Thank you so much for taking the time to craft this beauty. I will reread it often.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Cleo,
Loved your insight in this post. Made me think of a line from a Joni Mitchell song, “Lately I don’t count on nothing…I just let things slide.” I think many of us, myself included, let important issues slide in a marriage instead of facing them head-on, instead of understanding what is important to us as women and wives, what we can live with and what we don’t want to tolerate in a relationship.
I am divorced and remarried. While my second marriage is good, especially compared to my first marriage, when issues arise I try to talk to my husband about them. He avoids deep discussions at all costs, even to the point of turning the subject around that I’ve brought up and pointing out my weaknesses or insulting me. And so, like the song, I have started to just let things slide.
And so, we make little or no progress in our relationship. I have to keep reminding myself that letting things slide is a choice, an unhealthy choice.
best wishes to you in your journey,
benny
p.s. I, too, wished you had saved the bird from its horrific fate. Sometimes rules are meant to be broken. But the choice was yours to make, not ours.
B,
I guess it’s okay to let things slide, as long as they don’t take us over the edge and into a crevasse with them. I’m going to commit to not only addressing things as they arise, but to do so with a great deal of grace and maturity. I can improve there, for sure.
B, you know what’s going to happen. A harbor seal is going to be injured and I’m going to have to drag that sucker back to my car and to a vet for help because I will hear all your voices in my head saying, Save him! I better start carrying a sheet with me.
Love yourself,
Cleo
I have today been digesting your blog in almost one go, as have many others before me. Truly that alone speaks to the compelling nature of your writing!
I wanted to offer the perspective I came to about the bird situation. (years down the line this incident will be referred to and commented on as ‘bird-gate’ or something, I bet!) A large part of what you are trying to do is give up control – the control you were trying to exert over others. As you said, it was not your place to control the bird’s life/path. Sometimes it’s easy to do something, and we will do it. Sometimes it’s not so easy, but we do it anyway because we feel it’s the right thing to do.
And sometimes – boy, I am one of those folks right now (I’m sure I will comment again!) – we do it because we feel it’s our freakin’ duty on this planet. Not in the selfless way, either. In that martyr way. The “OMG let the bird DIE! How cruel are you, when you have HANDS! A CAR!” Waving your hands, holding up signs and wrapping your righteous anger around yourself like a cloak – that kinda way.
Just as your decision came from a place where you understood your small role in the bird’s life (as best you could understand it), I imagine many people who reacted badly to your leaving the bird were simply casting their decision from their own place. A place borne of the need to be a martyr. To help *everyone* and *everything* and sing “I’m every woman” while doing it.
It’s crap. Utter crap. You’re well on your way to figuring that out, dear. You have my full support and good wishes.
Z,
You rock.
I’ve had a new epiphany about the bird. It may work its way into tonight’s post. If not, I’m expecting it will become a post on its own. Nature speaks to me in so many ways. Clearly. Directly. From the banana slug who takes his time to the wounded bird who’s time had come.
I am so grateful for her presence in my life. And for yours.
Love yourself,
Cleo
I love your blog! My “genius” chose to take the cowardly route and end our 14 year marriage via text message. He found someone new and exciting that he liked better. Talk about a blindside. I didn’t even know the ship was taking on water, to say nothing about sinking. Your thoughts about communication really hit home for me. It was like I was reading about myself. I find peace in your writing and help that I need to get through what has easily been, the darkest days of my life. Keep up the good work.
P,
Thank you for taking the time to comment and for being here. My apologies for not having replied sooner. I’ve been focused on the dudes for the last few days. Thank you for your patience.
Infidelity is the attire of a coward. To have a conversation, a sign of respect for the commitment made by both people when entering a marriage, before having an affair would eliminate so much collateral damage. To not have that conversation is a sign of a narcissist. I’ll do what I want because I’m the only one who matters. Everybody else can wade through the muck I’ve left in my wake.
Lovely. But now you get to be with you. The one person on the planet who will love you forever, never betray you and always get your humor.
Peace is a gift I have received from the beautiful kittens that congregate here at HGM. I’m repeatedly blown away (making my hair look ultra hot) the kindness and support extended to all who come here. They will help light your dark days. Thank you for your kind words, P, and please stay close.
Love yourself,
Cleo