Instead, I’ve been on a journey of incredible heights and vistas.
I have tried to figure out what allowed me to catch air, to balance weight and speed in such a way that I could reach a cruising altitude where even the turbulence was manageable. Honestly, even with my exhaustive uber-analysis skills, I just don’t know, and I don’t think I will know. This is the part where people start thanking God, or luck, or themselves. But I’ve decided to just maintain a general attitude of thankfulness. Thank you Divinity, thank you luck, thank you me, thank you tree, thank you air, thank you life, thank you Bangkok. Thank you, you.
It’s not that I’m trying to cover my bases. It’s that I think everything plays a role in our lives, and for me, the convergence of good friends, loving support, divine intervention and cosmic order, a caring family, amazing opportunity, pretty awesome kids, and a willing spirit to follow my instincts and take chances all deserves gratitude.
This week some big events have given me more fuel, more energy, to ensure me that I’ll have what I need, when the time comes, to make it back in one piece. Things that seven months ago didn’t seem possible, even two months ago made me cringe, and the attempts to figure out how I would sort them out made me lie down and hug a pillow. What I’ve discovered by tackling these things one step at a time, though, is that the cursed, crazy horse I rode through the mountains of Mexico was right. I fought with that thing for two days as Lillian and I tried to find, ironically, the promised land of Jordan. Seriously, it was called Jordan, and we were lost.
And that horse kept going without getting caught up in all the obstacles around us, without noticing that there were slippery rocks around us that could send us sliding down the side of a steep mountainside, or miles ahead of us with liquid heat waves and no oasis of water in sight. He didn't know we were lost. He didn’t care. He just went forward, with no reverse throttle. If he had found he had no next step, we were screwed. But somehow, he always found one, and on we went.
Not to give away the ending, but (spoiler alert) we all survived and made it to Jordan and back. And I swear, as I got off and said goodbye and thanks for the near-death-experience stories I get to tell now, he gave me that look that could only be described as,“Oh, ye of little faith in me.” Then he turned and clopped away.
So, what’s happened this week? I’ve crossed three big mountain tops, one step at a time. I finally got my certification to teach in South Carolina, despite red tape snafoos and poo poo headed policies. We finally sold our house in Virginia, despite last minute changes and craziness. And Adam and I have come to peaceful, even caring, terms on our divorce and settlement. I am, of all those things I mentioned above, most thankful to him. Without his willingness to let me go on amicable terms and offer his support for my choices, the fall out would be different. I don’t even want to think about how much different, much less speculate in writing. Suffice it to say, “shudder.” I’ve been honest with you my friends about our problems, but I hope I’ve also maintained that our problems are not because he is a bad person. Because his generosity of heart and spirit, as I told him I needed to leave, are hard to find in this world, and it gets so much worse than this when families separate.
So now that he and I have settled our terms, and he knows all that is happening, I can share with my friends one other nice thing about this week as well. I got to spend a few hours on Valentine’s Day talking with someone I’ve grown very fond of over the last several months. You might notice a change in my status, I was a little unsure about doing that, but it makes sense now to put it out there. Some of you know him, and might be quite surprised that 23 years after I turned down his offer to go to prom together (note to Jeff: don’t wait until last minute to have a brilliant idea), I am crushing on him like I’m 16 again.
We are old friends, finding new reasons to appreciate and like each other. Don’t ask a lot of questions, because there’s not a tremendous amount to tell, as like he puts it,“it’s complicated.” But so are most meaningful things in life.
I’ve given up trying to figure out what’s going to happen in the coming years, at least, for now. I had a plan for about the last 10- and it was all focused on getting to a great school abroad. I didn’t know what it would entail, exactly, but I knew how to pave the road, buttress my resume, get a master’s degree, and play the game to get me here. Then, come to find, I get just one year. So as I contemplate how that happened, I keep asking myself,as I have in my last blogs, are we all on a journey to a fixed destination, or are we actually all just thinking we’re looking for Jordan but actually, the journey itself is the point? And while I was sitting on that horse, cursing and poking it, tugging on the reigns as it snorted in righteous indignation, which one of us got that point?
I have tried to figure out what allowed me to catch air, to balance weight and speed in such a way that I could reach a cruising altitude where even the turbulence was manageable. Honestly, even with my exhaustive uber-analysis skills, I just don’t know, and I don’t think I will know. This is the part where people start thanking God, or luck, or themselves. But I’ve decided to just maintain a general attitude of thankfulness. Thank you Divinity, thank you luck, thank you me, thank you tree, thank you air, thank you life, thank you Bangkok. Thank you, you.
It’s not that I’m trying to cover my bases. It’s that I think everything plays a role in our lives, and for me, the convergence of good friends, loving support, divine intervention and cosmic order, a caring family, amazing opportunity, pretty awesome kids, and a willing spirit to follow my instincts and take chances all deserves gratitude.
This week some big events have given me more fuel, more energy, to ensure me that I’ll have what I need, when the time comes, to make it back in one piece. Things that seven months ago didn’t seem possible, even two months ago made me cringe, and the attempts to figure out how I would sort them out made me lie down and hug a pillow. What I’ve discovered by tackling these things one step at a time, though, is that the cursed, crazy horse I rode through the mountains of Mexico was right. I fought with that thing for two days as Lillian and I tried to find, ironically, the promised land of Jordan. Seriously, it was called Jordan, and we were lost.
And that horse kept going without getting caught up in all the obstacles around us, without noticing that there were slippery rocks around us that could send us sliding down the side of a steep mountainside, or miles ahead of us with liquid heat waves and no oasis of water in sight. He didn't know we were lost. He didn’t care. He just went forward, with no reverse throttle. If he had found he had no next step, we were screwed. But somehow, he always found one, and on we went.
Not to give away the ending, but (spoiler alert) we all survived and made it to Jordan and back. And I swear, as I got off and said goodbye and thanks for the near-death-experience stories I get to tell now, he gave me that look that could only be described as,“Oh, ye of little faith in me.” Then he turned and clopped away.
So, what’s happened this week? I’ve crossed three big mountain tops, one step at a time. I finally got my certification to teach in South Carolina, despite red tape snafoos and poo poo headed policies. We finally sold our house in Virginia, despite last minute changes and craziness. And Adam and I have come to peaceful, even caring, terms on our divorce and settlement. I am, of all those things I mentioned above, most thankful to him. Without his willingness to let me go on amicable terms and offer his support for my choices, the fall out would be different. I don’t even want to think about how much different, much less speculate in writing. Suffice it to say, “shudder.” I’ve been honest with you my friends about our problems, but I hope I’ve also maintained that our problems are not because he is a bad person. Because his generosity of heart and spirit, as I told him I needed to leave, are hard to find in this world, and it gets so much worse than this when families separate.
So now that he and I have settled our terms, and he knows all that is happening, I can share with my friends one other nice thing about this week as well. I got to spend a few hours on Valentine’s Day talking with someone I’ve grown very fond of over the last several months. You might notice a change in my status, I was a little unsure about doing that, but it makes sense now to put it out there. Some of you know him, and might be quite surprised that 23 years after I turned down his offer to go to prom together (note to Jeff: don’t wait until last minute to have a brilliant idea), I am crushing on him like I’m 16 again.
We are old friends, finding new reasons to appreciate and like each other. Don’t ask a lot of questions, because there’s not a tremendous amount to tell, as like he puts it,“it’s complicated.” But so are most meaningful things in life.
I’ve given up trying to figure out what’s going to happen in the coming years, at least, for now. I had a plan for about the last 10- and it was all focused on getting to a great school abroad. I didn’t know what it would entail, exactly, but I knew how to pave the road, buttress my resume, get a master’s degree, and play the game to get me here. Then, come to find, I get just one year. So as I contemplate how that happened, I keep asking myself,as I have in my last blogs, are we all on a journey to a fixed destination, or are we actually all just thinking we’re looking for Jordan but actually, the journey itself is the point? And while I was sitting on that horse, cursing and poking it, tugging on the reigns as it snorted in righteous indignation, which one of us got that point?
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