<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYNQno8eip7ImA9WhFSFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004</id><updated>2013-06-17T13:03:13.472-05:00</updated><category term="childhood" /><category term="reader feedback" /><category term="Four Agreements" /><category term="Gentleman Jack" /><category term="world events" /><category term="Love Languages" /><category term="blending families" /><category term="photographs" /><category term="movies" /><category term="body issues" /><category term="The Secret" /><category term="books" /><category term="exes" /><category term="guest post" /><category term="marriage" /><category term="relationships" /><category term="eden fantasys" /><category term="theatre" /><category term="T's toybox" /><category term="single mom needs" /><category term="inspiration" /><category term="lyrics" /><category term="surgery" /><category term="olympics" /><category term="audio" /><category term="sex" /><category term="birthdays" /><category term="travel" /><category term="yoga" /><category term="Louisiana" /><category term="Gabby Bernstein" /><category term="celebrity" /><category term="family" /><category term="R and R" /><category term="high school" /><category term="pets" /><category term="cycling" /><category term="tv" /><category term="A Course in Miracles" /><category term="dating" /><category term="work" /><category term="neighbors" /><category term="Marianne Williamson" /><category term="blogs" /><category term="Duran Duran" /><category term="poems" /><category term="kids" /><category term="friends" /><category term="contest" /><category term="therapy" /><category term="The Fuss" /><category term="parenthood" /><category term="daily life" /><category term="soccer" /><category term="dragons" /><category term="politics" /><category term="divorce" /><category term="random" /><category term="deployment" /><category term="supporting the troops" /><category term="open letters" /><category term="living green" /><category term="goals" /><category term="beautiful people" /><category term="music" /><category term="grief" /><category term="school" /><category term="gratitude" /><category term="Buddhism" /><category term="depression" /><category term="infidelity" /><category term="spirituality" /><category term="notes to self" /><category term="the soldier story" /><category term="fitness goals" /><category term="natural medicine" /><category term="self-love" /><category term="long distance relationship" /><category term="bloggy meets" /><category term="running" /><category term="jewels on the quest" /><category term="swimming" /><category term="holidays" /><category term="vents" /><category term="codependent" /><category term="awards" /><category term="triathlons" /><category term="religion" /><category term="ero-tasy" /><category term="quotes" /><category term="fun" /><category term="Who Am I" /><category term="love" /><category term="money" /><title>Life as a classroom</title><subtitle type="html">...and everyone's my teacher</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1178</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/LifeAsAClassroom" /><feedburner:info uri="lifeasaclassroom" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:emailServiceId>LifeAsAClassroom</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname>http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><feedburner:browserFriendly></feedburner:browserFriendly><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYNQnozeyp7ImA9WhFSFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-461303733381564648</id><published>2013-06-17T13:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2013-06-17T13:03:13.483-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-06-17T13:03:13.483-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="yoga" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gratitude" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="jewels on the quest" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relationships" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="codependent" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="inspiration" /><title>Go Love Yourself.</title><content type="html">It's Monday and I have a smile on my face.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/06/freedom-to-breathe.html" target="_blank"&gt;yoga retreat&lt;/a&gt; was exactly what I needed to reboot a self-wellness/self-care regimen. We spent the weekend in yoga, meditation or other workshops to take a deep look at why we were neglecting ourselves to help everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Like I said, right up my alley.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was attending with friends but also met about 10 other women I didn't know. Of course, there's that comfort of only being around those with which we already were acquainted. However, as the retreat went on, we shared why we were there, how we'd been neglecting ourselves, our past tendencies to do the same and how we have incorporated caring for others into our livelihoods or careers.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There's something to be said for (a) letting your guard down, (b) allowing others to let down their guard without judgment (ok, not TOO much judgment), and (c) putting your own angst into perspective. We're all a lot closer than we were on Saturday morning. We probably know things about each other that none of us has shared with too many more in our lives. And we're all reminding ourselves that WE ARE WORTH THE SELF CARE.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That's the thing. We can sit and recognize our proneness to put others in front of ourselves. We can talk about how limiting our beliefs are because of the labels we give ourselves (and others too, by the way). We can allow ourselves a break for a weekend because we see how our sacrificing is affecting others.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;But it all comes down to remembering that we are worth it. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Digging down underneath all of that, we all bonded over childhood traumas and relationship memories where we adapted to putting others first. Some traumas were more &lt;i&gt;traumatic&lt;/i&gt; than others. I heard too many stories of mothers who put down the daughters who grew into these beautiful women. All of us had our false beliefs of not being good enough, not feeling worthy of love unless we'd given our very last breath.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was eye-opening to see the many mirrors around myself. My mind was enlightened. My soul was shaken. My heart was busted wide open.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So now it's Monday and we're all back to our daily lives of self-sacrifice. The difference is that we all made a pact to say 'no' to one thing that isn't serving us. We also took a deeper look at where we wanted to take our lives.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And we all left reminding each other of one thing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;You are beautiful and you are worth it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;You are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nrWCKDpgdKA/Ub9OhVhkUKI/AAAAAAAADPI/BGv-l1DQTsg/s1600/loveyourself.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="295" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nrWCKDpgdKA/Ub9OhVhkUKI/AAAAAAAADPI/BGv-l1DQTsg/s320/loveyourself.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/461303733381564648/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/06/go-love-yourself.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/461303733381564648?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/461303733381564648?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/06/go-love-yourself.html" title="Go Love Yourself." /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nrWCKDpgdKA/Ub9OhVhkUKI/AAAAAAAADPI/BGv-l1DQTsg/s72-c/loveyourself.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQHSXo9fCp7ImA9WhFSEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-8492404823189936181</id><published>2013-06-14T11:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2013-06-14T12:52:18.464-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-06-14T12:52:18.464-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gratitude" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relationships" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="inspiration" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gentleman Jack" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daily life" /><title>Freedom to Breathe</title><content type="html">It's Friday.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Friday - the first day of 2 weeks without my girls.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Friday - the first Friday of two weekends that I will have to myself. No children. No man. Just me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Apparently, last year during this time, I didn't take any time for myself. This is what my man is telling me.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ya know what I remember about last summer? I remember &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2012/05/job-hunting-like-dating-without-random.html" target="_blank"&gt;looking for&lt;/a&gt;/&lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2012/06/dream-job-landed.html" target="_blank"&gt;landing a new job&lt;/a&gt;. I remember a &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2012/06/summertime-camping-fun.html" target="_blank"&gt;relaxing camping trip with my children&lt;/a&gt;. I remember planning/enjoying my &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2012/07/post-reunion-thoughts-friends-old-and.html" target="_blank"&gt;high school reunion&lt;/a&gt;. I remember an &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2012/06/maine-blogger-meetup-recap-in-pics.html" target="_blank"&gt;epic Maine bloggy meetup&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yes, maybe I had to work hard and stress a little to get to the enjoyment of those things. I still feel like I took time for me. But I get his point.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
***** &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm kicking off this weekend with a yoga retreat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I literally just sighed happily when I typed that.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've also talked to my boss and my boss' boss about either going contract with the company or working from home. They're both willing to work with me. (More to come later.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm not telling anyone that I won't have the kids for two weeks. I'm doing this because I know me. If I let the word out, I will start booking plans with everyone and not enjoy the quiet time that I so require as of late. So, shhhhh... keep it on the down low.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My plan is to keep either my kayak or my bike in the car at all times so that I can hit the many lakes or trails around my office and/or my house. My plan is to bring my gym membership active again and get back in the pool. Heck, I might even aim for a mini-triathlon ( I dunno, maybe.). My plan is to nurture ME and whatever I feel like doing at the time. My plan is to remind my boss (again) about MY needs.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My plan is to use these next few weeks to get back in the habit of putting myself first.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
*****&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
I have to thank my man for his inspiration. &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/06/breakdown.html" target="_blank"&gt;Last weekend&lt;/a&gt;, he took care of me. He took me out into nature, where my lungs are wide open and I can breathe deep. He showed me what he loves about nature - identifying birds, fish, lizards - even finding me a large raptor nest on his favorite lake.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
He took me here:&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-svLwWJRgU6k/UbtIcQpciII/AAAAAAAADO0/QAuSzAiybBw/s1600/2013-06-08+14.47.58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-svLwWJRgU6k/UbtIcQpciII/AAAAAAAADO0/QAuSzAiybBw/s400/2013-06-08+14.47.58.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
I've read recently that the &lt;a href="http://www.elephantjournal.com/2012/11/the-whole-point-of-every-relationship-is-probably-not-what-you-think-it-is/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;whole point of a relationship is to set your partner free&lt;/a&gt;. As much as we'd like to hold on tight, he does allow me my journey. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
And he also reminds me to be somewhat selfish along the way. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
How are y'all taking care of you too?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
xxoo&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/8492404823189936181/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/06/freedom-to-breathe.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/8492404823189936181?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/8492404823189936181?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/06/freedom-to-breathe.html" title="Freedom to Breathe" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-svLwWJRgU6k/UbtIcQpciII/AAAAAAAADO0/QAuSzAiybBw/s72-c/2013-06-08+14.47.58.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcMQnw5cCp7ImA9WhFTGEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-7272686636583675962</id><published>2013-06-10T12:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2013-06-10T12:41:23.228-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-06-10T12:41:23.228-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="depression" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="exes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="long distance relationship" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gentleman Jack" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love" /><title>Breakdown</title><content type="html">Sooo....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had a nervous breakdown on Friday afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can only remember maybe 2 or 3 other times in my life when this has happened. I'm shaking, can't think coherently, I'm hyperventilating, others were asking if I'd been drinking, I had no idea where I was... it's NOT good.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I could go into all of the factors involved, however if you've read my recent few blog posts, you probably have some idea.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then my ex-husband, my sister and few police officers pushed me over the edge. Let's just say I'm glad they didn't arrest me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the midst of the decay of sobriety and decorum, I thought I'd throw a rope out to Gentleman Jack. He was NOT happy with me at all. If there's anything we ask of each other, it's that we TAKE CARE OF OURSELVES.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I, very obviously, haven't been doing that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I told him that I didn't think I should come visit him that evening, he lost it. Then he hung up on me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just when I was starting to think really bad things about him, the phone rang. It was a friend of mine.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;"T? T, you okay? Do you need me to come pick you up?"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then one by one, friends were calling to check on my well being, asking what they could do to help, wondering if they should come get me, offering to watch my kids, the dog. One by one, they each said that GJ had called them, told them of my struggle and asked them to help me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;He called out soldiers for me because he couldn't be there himself.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I ended up driving there after all. I was met at the door with a vodka drink. Then I was shuffled off to a shower. After a shower, my pajamas were waiting for me. Then he held me until I fell asleep.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I just... have no words for that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Stunned at how he loves me - especially when I have trouble giving love because I'm not even loving myself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zPNhKiPXXxU/UbYPqe-YnhI/AAAAAAAADOc/A4w20D7NKyo/s1600/worst.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="267" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zPNhKiPXXxU/UbYPqe-YnhI/AAAAAAAADOc/A4w20D7NKyo/s320/worst.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/7272686636583675962/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/06/breakdown.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/7272686636583675962?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/7272686636583675962?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/06/breakdown.html" title="Breakdown" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zPNhKiPXXxU/UbYPqe-YnhI/AAAAAAAADOc/A4w20D7NKyo/s72-c/worst.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EHRn8yeSp7ImA9WhFTFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-6581044192296446963</id><published>2013-06-05T11:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2013-06-05T11:27:17.191-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-06-05T11:27:17.191-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="A Course in Miracles" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="long distance relationship" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="inspiration" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends" /><title>Courageous and Broken-Hearted</title><content type="html">For those of you following &lt;a href="https://www.facebook.com/LifeAsAClassroom" target="_blank"&gt;my Facebook page&lt;/a&gt;, you will know that I had a really difficult evening.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was all a cumulative effect of the past two blog posts... stress, exhaustion, not enough time for myself, not enough energy to hold together a long distance relationship when I've not felt like connecting on a late night phone call after a day that zaps me completely. He feels that I'm dismissing him and going forward into my life without him. Knowing that he feels that way, I feel especially sensitive because he's reacting to me. It's a death spiral.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then there's that whole damn thing of doing what we want on our own time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He asks me my opinion on something and when I'm honest but it doesn't align with what he REALLY wants, he tries to talk me out of my feelings. It's just like with anything or anyone. By the time you're asking someone, you've already made up your mind what you want to hear. In this case, he wants me to approve and get excited about something that I disagree with. Then he gets annoyed that I have feelings the opposite of what he wants to hear.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then I get upset because, &lt;i&gt;'why the hell did you ask me then? apparently it doesn't matter what I say.' &lt;/i&gt;Then I get even more pissed because &lt;i&gt;who the fuck cares anymore?&lt;/i&gt; and I don't feel like arguing and defending my emotions when &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/04/emotions-and-feelings.html" target="_blank"&gt;I haven't even figured out the underlying feeling that causes the emotions&lt;/a&gt;. Then he gets irritated because I go into a dark place of being disregarded, my feelings dismissed, exhausted and throwing in the towel. &lt;i&gt;I give up. You win. Fuck me.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He gets pissed because I'm feeling insecure. We can't even talk anymore. We're not even COMMUNICATING, we're talking in exasperating circles. He wants to get away to cool down. Forget the fact that my brain is spinning incessantly and I still have to hold my shit together at a job, with my kids, in the carpool on the long-freakin-ass drive home. I can't breathe, I'm nauseous, shaking.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;It sucks giant donkey dicks.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Finally, FINALLY, at the end of the day, I get a chance to catch my breath. I want to sit in my bed and cry but the tears won't come. I'm just tired. I give up. You fucking win. It doesn't matter what I say.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I look to my bedside table and see &lt;i&gt;A Course in Miracles&lt;/i&gt;. I know the answer's in there but I don't really feel like being told an answer. I acquiesce and let the book fall open. This is what I see (in sentences I've highlighted from years of reading this book:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
"How does one overcome illusions? Surely not by force or anger, nor by opposing them in any way. Merely by letting reason tell you that they contradict reality.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Only illusions need defense because of weakness.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;
&lt;i&gt;You&lt;/i&gt; are the strong one in this seeming conflict. And you need no defense."&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It goes on to remind me that the only thing I'm defending is a "false truth" that my ego believes. I am separate. I am not worthy. There is no love, only lack. I am only &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/06/overwhelmed-and-uncertain-prayers.html" target="_blank"&gt;weakness and uncertainty and frightened&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
"Love rests in certainty. Only uncertainty can be defensive. And all uncertainty is doubt about yourself."&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just as I was letting that sink in, a friend called. A friend who, in her own relationship, does the very same things that Gentleman Jack does in ours. She understands him. And talking to her helps me to see him more clearly. It was a perfectly timed call - one where she said &lt;i&gt;something&lt;/i&gt; had compelled her to ring me - and we both hung up the phone feeling better.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today, I am still struggling but feel calmer. GJ is kind, loving, looking forward to having me with him this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My friend who called last night sent me an email this morning to thank me for being courageous and broken-hearted.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I guess we all are, in our own way.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/6581044192296446963/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/06/courageous-and-broken-hearted.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/6581044192296446963?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/6581044192296446963?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/06/courageous-and-broken-hearted.html" title="Courageous and Broken-Hearted" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8GRns6eSp7ImA9WhFTEkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-1685480716835758020</id><published>2013-06-03T13:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2013-06-03T13:40:27.511-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-06-03T13:40:27.511-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="depression" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="vents" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="long distance relationship" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="codependent" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gentleman Jack" /><title>Overwhelmed and Uncertain - Prayers Welcome</title><content type="html">I've been taking LOTS of deep breaths lately.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As much as I've been reading and trying to find stillness, I'm consistently overwhelmed. And when I'm not running, running, running, I'm dead on the couch or attempting to sleep in with the covers pulled all the way up and a pillow over my head.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel like MY time isn't MY time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel like I'm running on a fucking treadmill that goes backward instead of forward.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm tired of complaining and I'm tired of the noise in my head.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel like I'm in a relationship with someone who has no hope that we'll ever end up together forever.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel like I'm in a job that is uncertain because, despite the company history, no one has ever kept my position as long as I have. Because THEY LEAVE and go elsewhere. And I'm starting to feel that same itch.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel like I'm so consistently worn out from the job that I have less patience and willpower to maintain a long distance relationship. I end up asking myself, "Why do I continue to do this when things could be SO MUCH EASIER if I didn't?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There's no question that I love my man. Gentleman Jack is a beautiful soul and love but I'm tired of insecurities from the both of us. I'm tired of feeling like I'm not worthy of a life change. I'm tired of feeling like no matter what I do, he'll always wonder if I want to move on. Sometimes I feel like I &lt;i&gt;should&lt;/i&gt; move on so he wouldn't have to remain in such turmoil by worrying about it. I feel like some quiet time would be good for me. I feel like I just want stillness but I can't stop wishing time would pass so we could be together again. I'm tired of wondering if he thinks I'm worth it anymore. I'm tired of feeling completely exhausted when we're together or on the phone and just wanting to sleep all the time. I'm tired of over-analyzing what he says, does, doesn't say or doesn't do because I can't be fully present with him unless we are actually present with each other. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There's no question that I love what I do. But this job takes me so far away from my kids. I feel like I can't be there when they need me. I'm dreading a summer budget of nearly nothing because of the sheer amount of cost to keep my kids somewhere for 12 hours a day while I drive to and from a job where I wish I was just working from home. Lately I've been wondering if I should just go to contract work instead of full time. It would mean a little less security but I could make my own hours. Be there for my kids. Maybe save some money instead of shuffling them off all day long.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My kids come first. Before this job. I come even before that and everything's suffering because I have no time for myself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Something has to change because I'm breaking. I'm trying my best but I'm breaking.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Pray for me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uI9iWOWuWjE/UazjAk0aQ9I/AAAAAAAADOM/vAgiYlSmFco/s1600/overwhelmed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uI9iWOWuWjE/UazjAk0aQ9I/AAAAAAAADOM/vAgiYlSmFco/s1600/overwhelmed.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/1685480716835758020/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/06/overwhelmed-and-uncertain-prayers.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/1685480716835758020?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/1685480716835758020?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/06/overwhelmed-and-uncertain-prayers.html" title="Overwhelmed and Uncertain - Prayers Welcome" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uI9iWOWuWjE/UazjAk0aQ9I/AAAAAAAADOM/vAgiYlSmFco/s72-c/overwhelmed.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8DQnwzeyp7ImA9WhBaEks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-3721211068134818230</id><published>2013-05-22T17:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2013-05-22T17:47:53.283-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-05-22T17:47:53.283-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="vents" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parenthood" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="money" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="long distance relationship" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="depression" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="A Course in Miracles" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="body issues" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="codependent" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fitness goals" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gentleman Jack" /><title>Hormonal, Type-A, Single Mom = Not someone to encounter in a dark alley</title><content type="html">I have to start this thing by making fun of how I feel because... sheesh. I have to laugh so I don't cry.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I haven't started my period yet this month - don't fret! This is normal for me since having the &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2011/03/sometimes-im-so-social-im-anti-social.html" target="_blank"&gt;IUD&lt;/a&gt;. There are some months that I have no "monthly blessing" at all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Monthly blessing". That's what they call it in yoga.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And do you know what? It WOULD be a blessing because usually, when my body skips it, the PMS continues into the next month. Hormones and water weight and sore boobs and crankiness. Oy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I've been doing so well, taking care of myself, meditating, squeezing in workouts where I can in the craziness that is my life these days. I was doing well until mid-week last week and since then....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;It's&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;All&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Gone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Hill&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
Today, I feel like a failure. I feel behind. I feel not good enough. And, because I feel that way, because my perception is such, I can give AMPLE proof to show that those things are true.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
As a mother...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
...both of my daughters are coughing for no apparent reason whatsoever. Coughing to the point that my older daughter was unable to sleep. She has end of the year choir concerts and she can't. stop. coughing. The doctor says she's fine. And now her sister is coughing. Because I can't fix it, EPICFAIL.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
As a girlfriend....&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
....Gentleman Jack politely asked my opinion on taking his very attractive and single work assistant out to a nice dinner. You see, he has a gift card to a fancy restaurant but it will expire before I'm able to come in town to go with him. So, since his assistant helps him so much with his business, he thought that it could be a very nice "thank you" for her. Now, I&amp;nbsp; know her and she knows how much we mean to each other. It's not that I'm concerned about them... I just don't like the ickies that I feel when I imagine her all dolled up with her 20-something body in some hot outfit with my sexy man at a fancy dinner. I don't like how it appears that they are a couple. I don't like that they already get lunches alone and everyone assumes they're a couple. I don't like that he points out that I go to dinners and lunches with my guy friends and he has to be okay with it.&amp;nbsp; And I especially don't like that WE never get to eat at a fancy restaurant or have lunches alone because we have 4 kids. And I don't live there. EPICFAIL.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
Oh and also? I don't like the nefarious feeling that I get knowing that, unless I'm with him or he's busy pursuing a business deal or fishing tournament win, he's close to terrified of losing me. His life slows down and mine keeps on cranking. He feels forgotten. It often makes me wonder if that feeling will lead to desperation. And desperation scares me. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
As a homeowner...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
....I am doing my best to take care of things around the house. I feel so behind. The yard is a mess because I'm always indoors working on other things. There are lightbulbs out everywhere. The carpet feels gross but I don't have a working vacuum. I'm trying to pay off debt. I'm cancelling things for the summer because of the cost of two kids in summer camp. I hate that I feel guilty for doing anything at all for myself when the kids need new shoes, new bathing suits, new summer clothes. I'm so rarely at my house because my work keeps me away for 10 - 11 hours a day with the commute and work hours. I need to clean but when I have time, I just don't feel like it. It feels like yet another something vying for my attention. I would rather go to bed and sleep. EPICFAIL.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
As an employee...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
...I feel like I should know so much more. I feel like I could be doing so much more. I feel like I can't concentrate. I feel like people doubt my abilities. I feel like people wonder if I'm earning my pay. I feel guilty for putting my kids first. I hate that I have no time off to spend with my kids or my man. I'm so tired from the drive that it takes me a while to get focused there. Some days, I wonder if I'm cut out for this job at all even though I thought it was my &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2012/06/dream-job-landed.html" target="_blank"&gt;dream job&lt;/a&gt;. EPICFAIL.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
As a friend...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
...Sometimes, I don't want to be around anyone at all. Sometimes, I curse at my phone when there are texts or emails from friends wanting to know if I can get together or they need me. The irony is, I always feel better to spend time with friends. ALWAYS. I am just so spread thin, so pulled in one million directions, that I feel like I need more ME time to balance me out. I keep forgetting that time with friends is also ME time. I guess I just feel the need for quiet friend time, ya know. I get tired of talking. Tired of listening. Tired of thinking. Tired of feeling bad when friends don't reach out because they think I'm too busy. EPICFAIL.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
As a person...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
...I am kicking my own ass. I've gained weight since starting the new job last summer. I feel like I'm maintaining a good diet still. I really think it's my own sadness in my skin that is keeping on the extra pounds. I'm also unable to devote hardly any time at all to cycling or yoga or swimming and I miss ALL of that. I miss how yoga helps me to stay put, present moment, complete acceptance. I feel bad that my &lt;i&gt;A Course in Miracles&lt;/i&gt; study group feels like yet another burden - but again ALWAYS feels so great when I'm in it. I feel tired all the time. I want to go to bed early, put the pillow over my head, and sleep until noon the next day. I want to be lazy. I want to dumb down. I hate myself for not thinking of everything and then I resent others for expecting me to. I feel like everyone imagines I've got it all covered, that I can carry this load. When, in fact, I want to crumble beneath the weight of it. And I think I am. EPICFAIL.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
I could go on and on about how I'm failing in my life because I expect so much more out of myself. I feel like I SHOULD be able to do this. I feel like I'm making too many excuses. I feel like if I could just have one day where everyone would leave me the fuck alone - and by everyone I mean kids, ex, GJ, bills, laundry, dishes, the yard, work, my body, the negative crap I tell myself - then I would feel better.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
I haven't had a moment to blog and when I do, I vent this shit to y'all.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
EPICFAIL.&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/3721211068134818230/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/05/hormonal-type-single-mom-not-someone-to.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/3721211068134818230?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/3721211068134818230?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/05/hormonal-type-single-mom-not-someone-to.html" title="Hormonal, Type-A, Single Mom = Not someone to encounter in a dark alley" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8BR3oyeyp7ImA9WhBUEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-9166278684185309987</id><published>2013-04-27T10:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2013-04-27T10:50:56.493-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-04-27T10:50:56.493-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="exes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="movies" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="jewels on the quest" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relationships" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="inspiration" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gentleman Jack" /><title>Contempt Prior to Investigation</title><content type="html">On Friday nights, when the girls are with their dad and I am alone, I enjoy putting in a Netflix movie, pouring myself a drink, getting into my pj's, and snuggling up with the pup on the couch.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know, sounds exciting.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To me, it's the best Friday night ever. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This past Friday night, I watched a movie called Celeste and Jesse Forever.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Faru8Lv-t8k" width="640"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;

&lt;br /&gt;
You can watch the trailer to understand what the movie is about. I really enjoyed it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(Oh and for the record, the last movie I watched was &lt;a href="http://youtu.be/24QX4Jb-BtE" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;Lovely, Still&lt;/a&gt;. It's on my favorite list now. Loved it!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One of the things that really stuck me about C and J Forever was the appearance of my favorite question: &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Would you rather be right or happy? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've only asked myself this question a million times on this blog. Another phrase I heard in the movie was "contempt prior to investigation".&amp;nbsp; Making judgements without knowing the whole story.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And this one, best quote of all:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
“&lt;b&gt;When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves. &lt;/b&gt;What? It’s Viktor Frankl…or maybe it was Biggie Smalls. I don’t know.”&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Needless to say, the movie really spoke my language. Or else, it was just what I needed to hear.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have found that my judgements of people are keeping me from experiencing pure joy. I understand "contempt prior to investigation". I understand it because I've done it, especially recently the past few years or so. I did it with my sister's new husband. I did it with my ex's new wife.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hell, I've even done it with Gentleman Jack. And MYSELF.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I am so convinced that I'm right about certain things that I'm not allowing OTHER THINGS to show up.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
These judgements don't make me happy. In fact, they keep me stuck right where I am. I end up rolling my eyes when my sister's new husband acts exactly the way I'd think he would. I shake my head when the ex's new wife does exactly what I'd expect. I want to run away when I see the limitations I put on GJ and I get downright mad when my own life seems small.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't want to be right about these things. I don't want to see limitations and frustrations. I can't change these people and make them be who I'd like them to be. I can't change the things that show up in my life. So what if they're not showing up the way I want them to. Isn't that my problem?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves....&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Isn't that the truth of it all?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I give my power away by wanting things to be different than they are. I can, however, change the way I see these things. I can open myself up to a new perception and a new experience. I don't have to be right. It doesn't serve me. I can, instead, allow them, situations and other things to be who they are and love anyway. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;u&gt;Allow.&lt;/u&gt; There's that word again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This isn't a new discovery, but one that keeps showing up in my life. I recently talked about it &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/01/my-deepest-prayer-return-to-love.html" rel="" target="_blank"&gt;in January while watching a Marianne Williamson interview&lt;/a&gt;. I've written about it for years. I learned it while studying &lt;i&gt;A Course in Miracles&lt;/i&gt;. I know that I can't change the world, but I can change my mind about it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;It all starts with me. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can change my mind about myself, the limits I put on my time, my value, my existence in others' lives. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I recall, when I was going through my divorce, that yoga was so healing to me. One of the little healing mantra songs I was taught to sing came back into my mind recently:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I am the light of my soul&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I am beautiful&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I am bountiful&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I am bliss&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I am &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I am&lt;/i&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If I keep reminding myself of this, if I learn to be gentle with myself, if I can allow myself to show up however I am and love me anyway, I can do the same for others.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Don't you think?</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/9166278684185309987/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/04/contempt-prior-to-investigation.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/9166278684185309987?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/9166278684185309987?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/04/contempt-prior-to-investigation.html" title="Contempt Prior to Investigation" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/Faru8Lv-t8k/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cCQng-eip7ImA9WhBVGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-7492806977666387092</id><published>2013-04-24T16:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2013-04-24T16:31:03.652-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-04-24T16:31:03.652-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="world events" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gentleman Jack" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daily life" /><title>Confessions from a Bad Blogger</title><content type="html">How on earth do I live my life sometimes?!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm fighting illness... again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's obvious to me that the &lt;i&gt;running running running&lt;/i&gt; that my life has become takes its toll on me. That and the $*#&amp;amp; Texas weather that can't make up its mind. One day it's summer and the next day it's winter. We haven't even had spring yet.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The good news is that I've been able to keep up my good attitude. (And the crowd says YAY!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The bad news is that I've been &lt;i&gt;unable&lt;/i&gt; to keep up this blog. (And we all say BOOOO...)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Part of me wonders if I should keep the blog. After all, there are some weeks that go by that I barely get enough sleep much less time to write out how I feel about it. Then I wonder if anyone cares how I feel about it. I have been a blog reader for years and I know that when a blogger stops blogging, you wonder about them... and then you find another blogger to read. I get it. The interwebs are a lot fuller than they were when I first started this thing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I do post pretty frequently to my &lt;a href="https://www.facebook.com/LifeAsAClassroom?ref=hl" target="_blank"&gt;Facebook page&lt;/a&gt; and I think that many of you follow me there or in real life. I feel blessed to call many of my tried and true readers... my tried and true friends now. Blogging did that for me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Don't get me wrong, I still have the thousand thoughts a day that you all have known me to write about. I still analyze and notice things and feel inspired and question it all. I never got the chance to write about how I feel about the recent Boston Marathon tragedy or the West, TX tragedy right here in my backyard!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I haven't had a moment to share details of another great weekend with Gentleman Jack and how I keep noticing more and more that &lt;i&gt;the way&lt;/i&gt; he loves me takes my breath away sometimes. Like one moment, over this weekend, when I caught a vision of myself in the mirror. I was a mess. Hair all strewn, no makeup, completely slouched out in sweats... and still, as I walked past him, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me hard. I love that he still doesn't understand me, that he'll even admit to being frightened by my free spirit and all-out-give-everything-completely-until-I-wear-myself-thin and completely-connected-to-the-Universe-so-much-that-overwhelming-pain-felt-by-someone-else-crumbles-me-into-tiny-pieces-and-a-million-tears way of being. He doesn't always get me but he keeps &lt;i&gt;trying&lt;/i&gt;. God bless the guy. He doesn't give up on me EVER.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I haven't been able to write about my girls and how quickly they're growing up. How I long for their independence but want to hold them so close to me that time freezes altogether. How they're still so supportive and loving and share so much of their lives with me. How they, very nearly on a daily basis, tell me that I'm the best. mom. ever.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I haven't had time to tell you about the job. How I just threw, almost single-handedly, a really successful conference that had my boss high fiving me for a week after. (This is, of course, the reason I've not had time.) I haven't had a moment to process how they're going to work with me, in the fall when my daughter begins middle school - MIDDLE SCHOOL - so that I can be home when she gets home from school. How blessed am I?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm sorry that I've not kept you all up to date, if you're even stopping by to check anymore. Many of you came here to be inspired, to read about triathlons or long distance love or other daily inspirations, and I've not had a moment to share lately. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I will tell you that I will try to do more. I'm not aiming for the 6 blog posts a week that used to overwhelm many regular readers. My days are so much fuller now. And my thoughts... don't have an idle brain in which to settle and stew. Some things linger or stick like a thorn and I'm sure I'll still be sharing that here. If only to vent and process for myself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For those of you still reading, thank you. If I could wrap my arms around you and give you a giant smooch, I would.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I don't wanna get you sick.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
*smooch*&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's safer that way. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/7492806977666387092/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/04/confessions-from-bad-blogger.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/7492806977666387092?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/7492806977666387092?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/04/confessions-from-bad-blogger.html" title="Confessions from a Bad Blogger" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMCQX8-fCp7ImA9WhBWEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-4282340730490230819</id><published>2013-04-05T13:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2013-04-05T14:34:20.154-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-04-05T14:34:20.154-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="divorce" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="vents" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="exes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blending families" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parenthood" /><title>Emotions and Feelings</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Emotions:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This would be me, reacting with shortness of breath, lots of cursing, heart beating faster, angry tears welling up in my eyes. Something a little like this:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B8VRBN6OuIY/UV8Xg14Tl-I/AAAAAAAADNA/06tkW9WctOc/s1600/tumblr_lqeto3WZ3S1qdd6a1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B8VRBN6OuIY/UV8Xg14Tl-I/AAAAAAAADNA/06tkW9WctOc/s1600/tumblr_lqeto3WZ3S1qdd6a1.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But maybe more like this:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3aeKQ6hbUn8/UV8YAF7KjTI/AAAAAAAADNI/24hZC69Bgg8/s1600/tumblr_lcd16mm4DV1qdpjw9.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="141" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3aeKQ6hbUn8/UV8YAF7KjTI/AAAAAAAADNI/24hZC69Bgg8/s320/tumblr_lcd16mm4DV1qdpjw9.gif" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Feelings:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This would be me, coming down from the emotions and finally realizing the underlying unspoken thought &lt;i&gt;behind&lt;/i&gt; my reaction. Sorta like this:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aH5fjPvpJ8s/UV8bsm2YyzI/AAAAAAAADNQ/5Ynh_ev_-zk/s1600/tumblr_m9e4ggNEzI1reu1vyo1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="175" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aH5fjPvpJ8s/UV8bsm2YyzI/AAAAAAAADNQ/5Ynh_ev_-zk/s320/tumblr_m9e4ggNEzI1reu1vyo1_500.gif" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My ex-husband really upset me yesterday when he, once again, blew off an activity that my daughters were scheduled to do. It was his evening with the kids and he knew that this was scheduled. It was actually a text from my daughter that filled me in.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I texted him. No response.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I texted my daughter. She said they were already at he and &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2012/08/an-open-letter-to-exs-new-wife.html" target="_blank"&gt;his wife&lt;/a&gt;'s house on the other side of town.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I. Lost. It.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I called him and calmly but sternly asked him why... since this activity was planned and PAID FOR BY ME.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
His response was that his wife needed him home.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can't even begin to explain my reaction - other than with the fab gifs above - but I will tell you that Gentleman Jack was surprised to hear my "passion" and "colorful vocabulary" in describing the situation.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It wasn't until later that evening that I was able to think clearly. I contemplated any other time I've reacted this strongly. Then it occurred to me that I have this deep-seeded belief about me and my daughters' relationship with my ex-husband.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I feel that we are an inconvenience to him. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And it's high time that I let him know. Because after all, my perception could be wrong.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/4282340730490230819/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/04/emotions-and-feelings.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/4282340730490230819?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/4282340730490230819?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/04/emotions-and-feelings.html" title="Emotions and Feelings" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B8VRBN6OuIY/UV8Xg14Tl-I/AAAAAAAADNA/06tkW9WctOc/s72-c/tumblr_lqeto3WZ3S1qdd6a1.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQHRXYyeCp7ImA9WhBWEEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-4516593716487699424</id><published>2013-04-01T16:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2013-04-03T13:22:14.890-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-04-03T13:22:14.890-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gabby Bernstein" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="beautiful people" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="A Course in Miracles" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="jewels on the quest" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="books" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="inspiration" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gentleman Jack" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spirituality" /><title>Opening my Eyes to the Miracle of a Good Man</title><content type="html">I've just come off of a great weekend with Gentleman Jack. He's just so.... good.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know it seems as if we've had our issues the past 6 months or so. And I won't lie, we have. As with any "issues" I have with anyone, however, I end up asking myself, "What's going on with me... that I'm allowing these things to trigger my fear?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Little clarities have opened my eyes. Little messages I'm hearing and seeing that are allowing me to understand my fear. I'll cover more of that in another post. They're not all gone yet... those triggers are still there... but for now, I'm seeing him so sweetly and, as usual, my clear perception allows him to love me so much better. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the meanwhile, I've mentioned in the past few posts about affirmations and &lt;i&gt;A Course in Miracles&lt;/i&gt;. That study always grounds me. I've also been reading a book based on &lt;i&gt;ACIM&lt;/i&gt; called &lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/May-Cause-Miracles-Guidebook-Unlimited/dp/0307986934/ref=la_B002Z97V9M_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1364846488&amp;amp;sr=1-1" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;May Cause Miracles&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt; by &lt;a href="http://gabbyb.tv/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;Gabrielle Bernstein&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sa3aAmioORE/UVnnSoSGysI/AAAAAAAADMw/tOpTGCtrHYY/s1600/gabrielle-bernstein-may-cause-miracles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sa3aAmioORE/UVnnSoSGysI/AAAAAAAADMw/tOpTGCtrHYY/s320/gabrielle-bernstein-may-cause-miracles.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Gabby is a long time student of &lt;i&gt;A Course in Miracles&lt;/i&gt;... even though she's only early-thirty-something.&amp;nbsp; I say that with love, of course, because most of the fellow students I know are all mid-40's and have dealt with divorce, addiction or some sort of "rock bottom" that lead them to seek for something better. Gabby was (un)fortunate enough to hit bottom in her early-to-mid twenties with drug addiction.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
These days, she's sort of the hip, millennial version of &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/search/label/Marianne%20Williamson" target="_blank"&gt;Marianne Williamson&lt;/a&gt; with social media to back her up and get her message heard. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The book (based on the principles of ACIM, like Marianne Williamson's &lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/A-Return-Love-Marianne-Williamson/dp/B004T8YDUM/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1364852810&amp;amp;sr=8-2&amp;amp;keywords=return+to+love" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;A Return to Love&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;) is a structured 40-day workbook to help find, confront and release fears and learn to shift your thinking. This shift opens up your perspective to notice miracles already present in your life (i.e. a good man - so it's obviously working). It also allows more goodness to show up. It includes ideas for journaling, daily meditations (more also available on &lt;a href="http://gabbyb.tv/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;her website&lt;/a&gt;) and daily affirmations - as well as practical advice for keeping up your practice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've been reading this book for a couple of weeks now. As a Course student, I understand what she means -&amp;nbsp; the goals, the vocabulary. As someone who hasn't read the Course, I can't imagine how easily it would be digested. It is difficult and sometimes frightening to look at what scares us. And yet, this book is burning up the charts and I already know so many who love it who haven't studied the Course before.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My only beef is the way it's written - when she suggests things like &lt;i&gt;"run yourself a quiet bath, light candles, play soft music"&lt;/i&gt; - I have to giggle. The woman OBVIOUSLY doesn't have any children.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Heh.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;I have an extra copy of the book. Leave me a comment below if you're interested and I'll randomly select someone as a winner! &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;And yes, this is a sponsored post. Kinda... as I was already reading it when I received a copy to giveaway on the blog.&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/4516593716487699424/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/04/opening-my-eyes-to-miracle-of-good-man.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/4516593716487699424?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/4516593716487699424?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/04/opening-my-eyes-to-miracle-of-good-man.html" title="Opening my Eyes to the Miracle of a Good Man" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sa3aAmioORE/UVnnSoSGysI/AAAAAAAADMw/tOpTGCtrHYY/s72-c/gabrielle-bernstein-may-cause-miracles.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEIDQHk-fyp7ImA9WhBXE08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-2819288542952612917</id><published>2013-03-26T14:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2013-03-26T14:36:11.757-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-03-26T14:36:11.757-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="A Course in Miracles" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="inspiration" /><title>When I love life, Life loves me back.</title><content type="html">I've really enjoyed &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/03/taking-refuge-living-beyond-longing.html" target="_blank"&gt;getting back to my A Course in Miracles study&lt;/a&gt;. It's really nice to host an online group study from the comfort of my home office.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm also learning why I turned away from the path before. It's hard. It's easier to stay ignorant, lazy and resentful.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Except, it isn't.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Argh.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just like eating the right foods or getting in some exercise at the end of a very long, exhausting day, it's hard... but the alternative definitely doesn't make life easier. I'm starting to believe that laziness is an addiction. Making choices not based in self-love... is an addiction. Allowing things to get to me... is an addiction. It's habitual and difficult to stop. So that's where I am. Trying to stop.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Rather trying to START AGAIN.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This entire year has been me trying to start the damn engine but I think I'm missing a few parts or need some parts replaced. The engine won't crank. I'm not giving up though. I have too many moments that take my breath away. Too many things that I'm recognizing with the help of a changed attitude.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's really simple (a choice) but not easy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So anyway....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here are a few things I've seen lately that are inspiring me or spoke to me in some way. Maybe they'll inspire you too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e1XjGf_vY4g/UVH1McMHn3I/AAAAAAAADLo/z9BfrZUFvmM/s1600/17799_552280118126629_615683546_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e1XjGf_vY4g/UVH1McMHn3I/AAAAAAAADLo/z9BfrZUFvmM/s320/17799_552280118126629_615683546_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Looking inside is frightening for us all.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l17KedUPcrk/UVH1MzwocZI/AAAAAAAADL8/GryGaLKkpGg/s1600/45224_10151855470553298_1167206285_n.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="197" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l17KedUPcrk/UVH1MzwocZI/AAAAAAAADL8/GryGaLKkpGg/s320/45224_10151855470553298_1167206285_n.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The Matrix was authored by students of A Course in Miracles.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-maFjhexvilM/UVH1Mfj6TRI/AAAAAAAADLs/BF9YvIusSpo/s1600/486414_10151383072242252_1321322286_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="218" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-maFjhexvilM/UVH1Mfj6TRI/AAAAAAAADLs/BF9YvIusSpo/s320/486414_10151383072242252_1321322286_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Direct quote from the Course.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FpVcBsTL_so/UVH1M2Z_lrI/AAAAAAAADL4/JIHxdfquuak/s1600/580230_10151570342158707_55172950_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FpVcBsTL_so/UVH1M2Z_lrI/AAAAAAAADL4/JIHxdfquuak/s320/580230_10151570342158707_55172950_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Karen Salmonsohn's Posters are always inspiring.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MX0gRVrpdl0/UVH20ic-jwI/AAAAAAAADMY/3dZig3c26wA/s1600/392801_445124878897459_422558337_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MX0gRVrpdl0/UVH20ic-jwI/AAAAAAAADMY/3dZig3c26wA/s320/392801_445124878897459_422558337_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;To be present and aware...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m69oikGpIkc/UVH23lKJRwI/AAAAAAAADMg/vRy8rDGbGP4/s1600/734390_521531567890362_456525647_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="259" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m69oikGpIkc/UVH23lKJRwI/AAAAAAAADMg/vRy8rDGbGP4/s320/734390_521531567890362_456525647_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Allow.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YGRWEO691aE/UVH1M3iilfI/AAAAAAAADMA/ACWrU1-P2Ug/s1600/549901_629632467062490_1625815589_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TM9EqZNNL1M/UVH1NWVq43I/AAAAAAAADMI/Xmyhvq-KPFY/s1600/602220_10151569992888707_1198930089_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TM9EqZNNL1M/UVH1NWVq43I/AAAAAAAADMI/Xmyhvq-KPFY/s320/602220_10151569992888707_1198930089_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Thanks to Gabby Bernstein's Spirit Junkie app.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/2819288542952612917/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/03/when-i-love-life-life-loves-me-back.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/2819288542952612917?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/2819288542952612917?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/03/when-i-love-life-life-loves-me-back.html" title="When I love life, Life loves me back." /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e1XjGf_vY4g/UVH1McMHn3I/AAAAAAAADLo/z9BfrZUFvmM/s72-c/17799_552280118126629_615683546_n.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkENRnk-eSp7ImA9WhBQEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-3854971911730800648</id><published>2013-03-13T13:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2013-03-13T13:18:17.751-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-03-13T13:18:17.751-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="A Course in Miracles" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Buddhism" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="religion" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="inspiration" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daily life" /><title>Taking Refuge: Living beyond Longing</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1qwYF7XE-OQ/UUCuW3bVbXI/AAAAAAAADKU/WZcah2fzIzQ/s1600/refuge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1qwYF7XE-OQ/UUCuW3bVbXI/AAAAAAAADKU/WZcah2fzIzQ/s320/refuge.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Last night I attended a &lt;a href="http://www.shambhalasun.com/index.php?option=content&amp;amp;task=view&amp;amp;id=2417" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;refuge ceremony&lt;/a&gt; for a friend who was taking her Tibetan Buddhist vows. It was a very emotional ceremony for me, as her friend. I've known her for several years and have watched her struggle with depression, faith and overall groundlessness.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As a matter of fact, that has been the gist of our discussions the past 4 years.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Groundlessness.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is difficult to live in a world where all things, beings and feelings are temporary. The good is temporary... and that has been our biggest struggle. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or not trusting the good nature of those that seem to be anything but authentic.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The bad is temporary too. So our discussions have also been around reminding each other that "this too shall pass."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There have also been discussions about our judgements of things as "good" or "bad". What do we know, after all? What seems "bad" now may be the best thing that has happened to us. We only know our present state and our past experience. Sadly, our past experience projects fear on to our present state, leaving us cloudy, at best.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Like I said. Groundless.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To watch her take vows accepting her groundlessness... was breathtaking. To listen as she has decided to:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Accept her current situation and be gentle with herself in mind, body and spirit&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Accept others as they are and be gentle with them (non-blaming)&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Stop looking for answers in the temporary but instead allow it to be simply that&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Take refuge in a daily practice and teachings of an enlightened being&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Confirm that the only real "ground" is acceptance of the present Now&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I watched her and felt the energy of pure joy in the room, I started to think about my own "refuge". February was a very difficult month for me. I've lived in a state of &lt;i&gt;overwhelmed&lt;/i&gt; since starting my job last summer. I've not been gentle with myself, except for here and there. I've pushed myself to be better, to expect more, to go further.... all the while, forgetting to nurture, to be patient, to accept and allow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Any sort of change is like an identity shift. I longed for things to be different and then they were. Now I long to find comfort in this different life. The irony is that I'm not finding comfort in the moment. I'm ever looking forward, longing, or looking back, wishing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My refuge was nurturing myself and I've not done that as a daily practice. I get started and then I fall off.&amp;nbsp; One of the ways that I felt most nurtured was studying and teaching A Course in Miracles for 3 years. I'm considering starting an online weekly &lt;a href="http://www.google.com/+/learnmore/hangouts/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;Google Hangout&lt;/a&gt; study group. Possibly on Thursday evenings. If you're interested in studying with me, &lt;a href="mailto:thequestfort@gmail.com"&gt;send me an email&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel as if I am on the edge of something very powerful and last night's ceremony made me very aware of my resistance. I am disconnected. I have been taking refuge in fear, anger, desire and want. Thank you for being patient with me as I start again to turn things around.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Join me?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/3854971911730800648/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/03/taking-refuge-living-beyond-longing.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/3854971911730800648?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/3854971911730800648?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/03/taking-refuge-living-beyond-longing.html" title="Taking Refuge: Living beyond Longing" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1qwYF7XE-OQ/UUCuW3bVbXI/AAAAAAAADKU/WZcah2fzIzQ/s72-c/refuge.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMEQX4-fCp7ImA9WhBRE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-2063821170900618580</id><published>2013-03-03T13:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2013-03-03T13:53:20.054-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-03-03T13:53:20.054-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="self-love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daily life" /><title>Alone</title><content type="html">Ahhhh.... it's my first weekend alone since my &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/a-weekend-away.html" target="_blank"&gt;unfortunately interrupted weekend away&lt;/a&gt;. Maybe it sounds like I held a grudge for so long about that weekend not being what I expected. And you'd be correct. I cherish my alone time just. that. much.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This weekend has been a weekend of LAY-ZEE.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Both yesterday and today, I've stayed in my bed until almost 10 am. I enjoyed a little &lt;i&gt;*ahem*&lt;/i&gt; self-lovin'... &lt;i&gt;because I could! &lt;/i&gt;No kids around. No place to be. I meditated. Meditated AND masturbated. Both good for me!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I got in some time on my bike. I did some yoga. I went to the sauna. I treated myself to a movie at a theater AND a movie on my couch. I had lunch with my bestie, &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2011/01/t-powers-activate.html" target="_blank"&gt;TNT&lt;/a&gt;. I took really REALLY long hot showers. &lt;i&gt;Because I could.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For the rest of the day, my plan is to spend some time at the park with another friend and take the dog on a healthy 3 mile walk/run. (It's 70 degrees today. Why the hell not?!) Then I get to spend the evening with my girls. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel like I'm so available to everyone else all the time that I am extremely stingy about my time to myself. And yeah, maybe the things that I've done this weekend don't sound like much of anything.&amp;nbsp; To me, though, they're everything. Time to recenter. Time to connect. Time to refocus.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Crucial.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hope that your weekend is just as spectacular.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KgPgYV4tBAE/UTOps1nFa2I/AAAAAAAADKA/-wsIZF_Wplg/s1600/aline.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="271" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KgPgYV4tBAE/UTOps1nFa2I/AAAAAAAADKA/-wsIZF_Wplg/s400/aline.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/2063821170900618580/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/03/alone.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/2063821170900618580?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/2063821170900618580?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/03/alone.html" title="Alone" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KgPgYV4tBAE/UTOps1nFa2I/AAAAAAAADKA/-wsIZF_Wplg/s72-c/aline.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8AR3Y-cCp7ImA9WhBSGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-8647439777034047261</id><published>2013-02-25T21:13:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2013-02-25T21:20:46.858-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-02-25T21:20:46.858-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="depression" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="quotes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="long distance relationship" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="codependent" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="music" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="inspiration" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love" /><title>I Won't Give Up On Us</title><content type="html">Sometimes a little perspective is what we need. Right?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have been reading into everything Gentleman Jack says or doesn't say/does or doesn't do since we had our &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/a-weekend-away.html" target="_blank"&gt;falling out&lt;/a&gt;. Everytime he didn't say, &lt;i&gt;"I love you"&lt;/i&gt; first, my heart would break. Then I'd just get mad. How dare he withhold love from me. I didn't do ANYTHING wrong!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In fact, I was still very angry that he took &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/a-weekend-away.html" target="_blank"&gt;my weekend&lt;/a&gt; away. He made it all about him when all I wanted was some peace.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I knew he was depressed but I was also angry because &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/a-depressed-man.html" target="_blank"&gt;his depression&lt;/a&gt; is due to circumstances that he put himself in. I felt like I was being punished for being kind or being angry. I couldn't win at all. I saw glimpses of the man I love at &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/who-brings-baggage-to-funeral-this-girl.html" target="_blank"&gt;my grandfather's funeral&lt;/a&gt; but after I went back home, I felt like things were deteriorating. Quickly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Even when I was with him last week, I kept hearing the following phrase in my head,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"What you feel the world is withholding from you, you are withholding from the world."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I read that somewhere years ago and it's shown up in several books that I've read since. It's no easy pill to swallow - &lt;i&gt;you mean I'm to blame for this lack of love that I'm feeling?!? &lt;/i&gt;- but when you think about it, it creates amazing relief - &lt;i&gt;you mean I have the power to change this?!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Indeed I did have the power but I kept blaming him. I couldn't get over my frustration, my irritation at being completely helpless, the fact that I was talking sense with someone who wasn't thinking clearly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I kept looking for signs and listening for clues on how to let it go. Everything pointed me in the direction of nurturing myself (&lt;i&gt;thanks y'all&lt;/i&gt;),&amp;nbsp; but not only that. I also kept hearing that I should allow others their paths. I shouldn't act as though my path is so golden. It only works for me. That doesn't always mean it's right for someone else.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I kept blaming him for disregarding my feelings until I realized that it was actually ME who was disregarding my feelings by not sharing them with him. I kept them to myself so that I wouldn't damage things any further. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I also spent some time venting to a girlfriend. My goodness, us girls really need each other, don't we? She is the Gentleman Jack in her relationship. She helped me to understand a little better when she gave me the phrase she'd been hearing in &lt;i&gt;her&lt;/i&gt; head:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"We only accept as much love as we think we deserve."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He didn't feel like he deserved much at all. I could finally see that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That night, I realized I was coming down with a cold (as is my norm after an emotional trauma) so I took an antihistamine before bed. I typically don't take drugs because they affect me so easily. Sure enough, by the time GJ called me, I was completely out of it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
THAT is when I decided to share my feelings. THAT is when I pointed out how frustrated I was that he was still angry when I felt like I should be angry too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't even recall what he said. I know he was even angrier because he thought I was trying to force him past his own anger. At least that's sort of what I recall.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe talking to a depressed person &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; like talking to a drunk person. And maybe when I'm drugged up on antihistamines, I make the most sense to a depressed person.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All that I know is... after that night, something has shifted. I feel like we're back to our old selves again. He still needs to work on his stuff. And you all know I still need to work on mine. But it feels like the anger is gone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I stopped withholding love and it feels like he did too.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, I want to wrap my arms around him in person again. We haven't made a plan as to when that will happen but I look forward to being with my man.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He needs to know that I'm not giving up. He may not feel like he deserves my love right now but I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/O1-4u9W-bns" width="640"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/8647439777034047261/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/i-wont-give-up-on-us.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/8647439777034047261?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/8647439777034047261?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/i-wont-give-up-on-us.html" title="I Won't Give Up On Us" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/O1-4u9W-bns/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUNSX46eCp7ImA9WhBSFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-8692869049858687989</id><published>2013-02-21T15:38:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2013-02-21T16:04:58.010-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-02-21T16:04:58.010-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="depression" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="exes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="long distance relationship" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="codependent" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="grief" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gentleman Jack" /><title>Who Brings Baggage to a Funeral? This girl.</title><content type="html">When my first grandparent, my mother's father, died in 2004, I was very pregnant with my youngest daughter. I brought my toddler with me to his funeral and my husband stayed at home.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Less than a year later, my mother's mother died. Again, I attended with my children. In that short period of time, I'd given birth and my marriage was struggling. I'd also found out that during my grandfather's funeral, when I was pregnant, my husband was out on a date with his lover.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Two years later, &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2007/11/september-26-2007.html" target="_blank"&gt;my father died&lt;/a&gt;. I'd been separated from my husband for nearly 2 years and was falling in love with someone else. We'd planned a weekend away, my new love and I, but I had to back out due to my father's funeral. The day I returned home from the funeral, he broke up with me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The most ironic part of that story was that my ex-husband attended my father's funeral and stood by my side. He doesn't like when I cry, so that was hard for him, but he was there. Despite it all, he was there.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, let's just say that I was subconsciously carrying all of this baggage as I went into this week preparing for my grandfather's funeral. My &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-love-you-too-mema.html" target="_blank"&gt;father's mother had passed nearly 4 years ago&lt;/a&gt;, right when I was &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2009/05/let-go-of-one-thing.html" target="_blank"&gt;starting to date Gentleman Jack&lt;/a&gt;. I recall sitting at her funeral, surrounded by family, and feeling supported by him too. I was hoping he'd be there for me, a few days ago, when I laid my last remaining grandparent to rest... but it appeared &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/a-depressed-man.html" target="_blank"&gt;his depression would take precedence&lt;/a&gt; over my need for support.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I arrived at GJ's house the night before the funeral, it was obvious that I wasn't welcome. All of the little things he does to make sure I'm comfortable and spoiled... weren't done. He didn't even greet me. His kids did. He just said hi.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ok, point taken. He's pissed. Well I was pissed too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Over the course of the evening, he invited me to sit with him. He didn't want to talk, he expressly shared, but he did want me near him. By the time we went to bed, I was "near him" but still felt very far away.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My nerves were shot. I'd been shaking uncontrollably and not sleeping well for 3 days at that point. Apparently, I was shaking all night. I also woke up at 3:30 am (the witching hour for panic attacks, in my experience). I tried to be quiet about it but I couldn't stop crying. He finally reached out to me and pulled me into his arms. Once there, the shakes stopped and I was able to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The next morning, I wasn't even sure if he was planning to attend the funeral. When I finally asked, he said, "I am here to support you, all day if you need me. You tell me what you need."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;
&lt;i&gt;THAT'S the man I wanted to see.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And he did. He stood by me all day. After the funeral, he sat with me while I cried, reminisced and missed my grandfather. He took me and my daughters to lunch. He napped with me. He hugged me over and over. He didn't want me to go home. He held me close and kissed me goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But he's still not with me 100%. I can just tell.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I'm still very baffled at his fragility. The fact that it was only 2 hours that I refused to respond to him, out of &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/a-weekend-away.html" target="_blank"&gt;my own desire for peace&lt;/a&gt;, and in that time, he was convinced I'd given up on him, that my love was gone, that he was worthless and doomed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As much as I'd love to grab him by the shoulders and shake the sense into him, he isn't seeing any sense. As much as I'd love to knock him in the head and convince him that my love isn't that shallow, he isn't hearing it. As much as I'd love to be not nearly as violent as those last two sentences and show him his beauty, his value, his greatness, if he isn't feeling it, all that I'm doing is making him feel worse for not living up to what I see in him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I cannot win.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Everyone that I've shared this with (which isn't many) have all said the same thing. Your wonderfully supportive comments, emails and texts, have all said the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Take care of me.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As soon as I can get life back to some sort of normal, I will do better. I will not be so shaky. I will not be so exhausted. I'm starting with little things.... like just listening when he speaks instead of arguing. Arguing with a depressed person is like arguing with a drunk person. They absolutely aren't seeing clearly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm still unsure about anything except:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
That man loves me, desperately.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I love him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We make each other lighter, smile more, feel treasured.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And this is not him.&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Other than that, time will tell. If I don't take care of me, time will tell sooner than later.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I appreciate thoughts and prayers. I love you all so much.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
T&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/8692869049858687989/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/who-brings-baggage-to-funeral-this-girl.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/8692869049858687989?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/8692869049858687989?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/who-brings-baggage-to-funeral-this-girl.html" title="Who Brings Baggage to a Funeral? This girl." /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUYAQXc9eSp7ImA9WhBSFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-2533136927654194635</id><published>2013-02-18T11:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2013-02-21T15:45:40.961-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-02-21T15:45:40.961-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="depression" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="long distance relationship" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gentleman Jack" /><title>A Depressed Man</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RaRYbglSSS0/USJjEz4Sb0I/AAAAAAAADIo/2eDjNL70yj8/s1600/suffer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="251" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RaRYbglSSS0/USJjEz4Sb0I/AAAAAAAADIo/2eDjNL70yj8/s320/suffer.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I saw this quote a few weeks ago and it struck a chord deep within me. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel like I see people suffering all over the place. Except for those who seem like they aren't. It's those that &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/comparison-is-thief-of-joy.html" target="_blank"&gt;I'm envious of&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Somehow I'm caught in the middle of those who are suffering deeply, terribly, painfully and those who seemingly have it all figured out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm still very resentful that &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/a-weekend-away.html" target="_blank"&gt;my weekend away&lt;/a&gt; was sabotaged by life's reality. And part of that reality is a very depressed man in my life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wanted to be away, enjoying my time, without obligation. He made it all about him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yes, I know he felt like I "abandoned" him by being non-responsive. He felt as if he were struggling and I didn't care. In fact, I DID care but didn't feel emotionally capable of doing anything about it. I was trying to spare the peace I'd found in my retreat. I was trying to block everything out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We finally talked last night and he is still very hurt and angry. He still feels as if it's easy for me to shut him out. I couldn't explain clearly enough for him to understand that EVERYONE AROUND ME DEPENDS ON ME... and I just needed a break. No intention to hurt him or anyone. No intention to ignore him because he hurt my feelings. No intention of spite. I just wanted to be left alone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That scares him... that I want to be left alone. I tried to tell him that as much as I feel like I give, to everyone else, including him, I have to spare something for myself. Of course, he agrees with me and said that I could have very well asked him to offer me some distance, some peace. I did that and it broke him. Broke him down so much that he pulled down all reminders of me and very nearly threw them all into a fire pit.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He says that by the time I asked to be left alone, it was too late. He'd already been emotionally wrecked for hours. Why is it my fault that he's emotionally wrecked? I was only doing something for ME.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm tired. I have a funeral to attend. More driving to do. More people to hold up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He keeps saying that he's not sure about us. I'm not sure either.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We love each other. We both know that we love each other desperately. But as long as he's reaching for me from a state of depression, and as long as every decision he makes is based on a depressed state of lack, of not being good enough, as long as he sees the road ahead as difficult and overwhelming and most likely not going to get any better, I feel like nothing I say or do is making a difference at all. I feel like what I think or do or say doesn't matter. Even though he feels like EVERYTHING I do or say matters, like it's the only good in his life at all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is a heavy weight to carry along with everything else. I really need him to help lighten the load. He is my best friend, my rock, my strong armed lover who adores me and tries so hard to do right by me. He wants to do better. He wants to do more. He wants it sooo much. And I can't do it for him. I can't do it. He knows that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In looking over my blog archives, I see I &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmasbirthday-bitchrant.html" target="_blank"&gt;wrote about his depression in late 2010&lt;/a&gt;. In that post, I wrote:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;
&lt;i&gt;"He finally told me that I should always speak my mind, no matter if he 
agrees with me or not. He said I should always look out for myself 
first, no matter who doesn't agree with it."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was the following week when &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-man-depression-and-should-we-take.html" target="_blank"&gt;he asked if we should take a break because he was so down&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't know what the answer is. If I'm in a relationship with a depressed person, it is going to affect me. The sad part of it is, I feel like every relationship I've been in has left me dealing with a depressed man. I don't think there are life manuals for this. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe I should write one.&lt;br /&gt;
</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/2533136927654194635/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/a-depressed-man.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/2533136927654194635?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/2533136927654194635?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/a-depressed-man.html" title="A Depressed Man" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RaRYbglSSS0/USJjEz4Sb0I/AAAAAAAADIo/2eDjNL70yj8/s72-c/suffer.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMGQ3YzcCp7ImA9WhBSEUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-4020945170028168816</id><published>2013-02-16T19:52:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2013-02-17T09:03:42.888-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-02-17T09:03:42.888-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="vents" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="travel" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="long distance relationship" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="grief" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gentleman Jack" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daily life" /><title>A Weekend Away</title><content type="html">I finally planned and took a weekend away, just me, joyously alone, to one of my favorite retreats. I'd asked several people if they'd like to join me, including Gentleman Jack, and no one was able to get away. Honestly, that was perfectly fine with me. I just put it out there because so many were questioning my need to escape alone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Part of my co-dependency is feeling uneasy if the person I travel with isn't into the same things I'm into. I can say the same about concerts and movies. If I'm the only one excited about it, I'd much rather go alone. I actually have more of a blast that way. Believe it or not, I really enjoy my own company.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I happily drove the distance listening to the radio stations I wanted to listen to. Listening to complete silence if I chose to. Talking to myself if I wanted. Taking long, slow deep breaths at the beauty of the landscapes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then the phone rang.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My grandfather, the last remaining paternal unit in my life, had passed away.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I felt sad but some relief knowing that he was finally joining his bride, &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-love-you-too-mema.html" target="_blank"&gt;who had passed almost 4 years ago&lt;/a&gt;. The difficult part was that I would have to tell my daughters. My daughters and their great-grandfather have grown close these past few years. They ADORE him and he can't get enough of them. It has been a pleasure to drive them back to Louisiana to spend time with him. They &lt;i&gt;asked&lt;/i&gt; to spend time with him. And he always asked for them. I actually drove from GJ's house one weekend, back to Dallas to pick up the girls, and back to Louisiana - all in one day - just so they could have more time with him. This was 2 weeks ago when his health took a sudden downturn.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When we were last there, my children relished their moments with him. My oldest daughter just sat with him, her hand on his bed, with tears in her eyes. I knew they were going to be devastated when I told them he was gone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the meanwhile, I'm trying to enjoy my weekend alone, peaceful and full of fresh air, long walks, a few special treats (new wine, fudge, seafood dinner, hot tub on the deck). I know that I will go back to a storm of family drama. There are questions about the will and he and my grandmother's belongings. My dad's sister is the only remaining family and since my dad is gone, she has been handling things herself. My great-aunts are upset with her, they are talking about avoiding the funeral, getting lawyers....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me? I just wanted a moment of peace, just a day, where I could meditate alongside a clear spring and be anonymous so that no one would ask anything of me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KZfsXQ_JkFw/USA7-CC_WSI/AAAAAAAADHQ/tW3cRbq2bA4/s1600/2013-02-16+13.36.58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KZfsXQ_JkFw/USA7-CC_WSI/AAAAAAAADHQ/tW3cRbq2bA4/s320/2013-02-16+13.36.58.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Peace&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I reached out to Gentleman Jack...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think he wants to be there for me. He's been handling Papa's failing health and my emotions so well. But here we are, 2 weeks since we last saw each other, and I'm on a trip far away from him. It makes him nervous that I'm alone. I think it makes him nervous that I &lt;i&gt;enjoy &lt;/i&gt;being alone. I just needed a small bit of support for me and my family and he took it the wrong way, said the wrong thing, hurt my feelings.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After speaking to him, my frustration at being a burden to &lt;i&gt;anyone&lt;/i&gt; kicked in and I told him never mind. I'd figure something else out. I was so upset about it that I put my phone away. I don't want to talk. I don't want to discuss it. I don't want to feel like I'm putting anyone out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That was 5 hours ago. He has completely blown my phone up with calls and texts. I've reassured him, let him know that I'm okay. I've told him that I just need to enjoy the rest of today. I need to relish in a nice evening. A MOMENT OF PEACE. He's not handling it well.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sadly, I'm reminded of how Soldier felt so scared and lost when my focus shifted from him to burying my father. I &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2007/11/october-2-2007.html" target="_blank"&gt;attended my dad's funeral and lost a boyfriend in the same weekend&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm so frustrated. I've written about nothing but &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/comparison-is-thief-of-joy.html" target="_blank"&gt;how busy my life is&lt;/a&gt;. How crazy I feel. How I long for stillness.&amp;nbsp; Quiet. No responsibility.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm still sad that I have no father, no grandfathers... and the one man I want to lean on is losing it, afraid, unable to hold some faith for me. I don't want to reach out and help him to feel the love that I still have. This is when I need him to just know it. I don't have the strength to hold anyone up today. And I don't want to. If I'm being selfish, then... I am selfish.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is why I wrote that I feel as if &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/clearing-out-of-old-harmful-beliefs.html" target="_blank"&gt;I can lean on or trust or depend on no one but myself&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All I wanted was a weekend away, alone, at peace.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/4020945170028168816/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/a-weekend-away.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/4020945170028168816?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/4020945170028168816?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/a-weekend-away.html" title="A Weekend Away" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KZfsXQ_JkFw/USA7-CC_WSI/AAAAAAAADHQ/tW3cRbq2bA4/s72-c/2013-02-16+13.36.58.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUYAQH47fyp7ImA9WhBSFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-4720069109458263204</id><published>2013-02-14T08:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2013-02-21T15:45:41.007-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-02-21T15:45:41.007-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="depression" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="goals" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parenthood" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fitness goals" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dragons" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daily life" /><title>Comparison is the thief of joy</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_z_t8wIS7OM/URm7CqDKrjI/AAAAAAAADF4/H0_Vey-EX8w/s1600/comparison.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_z_t8wIS7OM/URm7CqDKrjI/AAAAAAAADF4/H0_Vey-EX8w/s320/comparison.jpg" width="256" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All in the spirit of &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/clearing-out-of-old-harmful-beliefs.html" target="_blank"&gt;clearing out the negative&lt;/a&gt;, I've realized that I've been pretty green for a while. Green as in envious. Envious as in downright resentful.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have to remember that I'm an anomaly. Truly I am.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I do love fitness but I don't have the time to - nor is my body up to the task of - training for triathlons anymore. I see friends doing triathlons, runs, or cycling events and I feel lazy and sluggish. I see friends dedicate themselves to Crossfit, Barre, Turbo Fire, Insanity, P90X or even yoga and I feel jealous. Hell, I've said that I would work out for 30 minutes every day but can barely squeeze that in. My job has left me very little energy when added to the list of other things I actually do accomplish every day. I really have to cut myself a break and do what I can, when I can. I'm not in bad shape but I just may not live up to some sort of idealized version of what I could look like if I had the time. I just don't. I also have to remember that the people I know who are that dedicated to their fitness have either no children and/or a partner to help out. Again, I just don't. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I do love healthy eating but I can't even recall the last time I cooked a meal at home. A meal from scratch with healthy and fresh (not frozen) ingredients. I have recipes saved and lists of things I'd like to buy. But that also entails having the money to purchase the awesome foods that my body needs - especially since my doctor has banned wheat, dairy, potatoes and rice. I know that there are lots of other options but they're not as cheap as the already cooked chicken at the store and a quick, already store-made salad. And oh I'm so sick of salad. I feel like I'm doing a disservice to both my body and my children's bodies because I'm not offering the whole food sustenance that we deserve. I get home and throw something together while still in work clothes and achy feet in high heels. I just want to sit down and relax and have an healthy and wholesome meal like I see my friends post on Facebook and Instagram. I want to experiment. I want to try new things. I want to feel like I'm giving my body what it needs. I'm lucky to actually eat, half the time. So much to do... I need to just be more mindful when I do have to grab something fast. And I need to realize that I'm doing the best that I can.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I see so many couple friends with their spouses working out together, going out together, doing things together. Or even girlfriends with other friends. I don't feel like I have any really close friends right now. I have nothing to give, really. And if a friend does want to spend time with me, I'd rather say, "No thank you. This is one evening that I can actually sit at home and not do a damn thing. I'd really love the lazy, peace and quiet instead of trying to have a conversation where I don't feel like I'm complaining about how busy I am." I don't even want to hear someone else tell me about their day because I'll feel like it's something else I have to give my attention to. Even with Gentleman Jack, I have nothing to give at the end of the day. I don't even feel like talking. I just want to be still... and quiet. I'm so thankful that he understands, even if it does lead him to feel a bit disconnected from me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I love my job. I have a totally kick ass job that many people envy. I even think I'm good at what I do (though I'm continually challenging myself to learn new things). Even still, between the time I'm at work and my commute to and from, it takes nearly 11 hours out of my day. To a person with a spouse, or a person with no children, maybe that wouldn't be a big deal, but I really want to be around more for my girls. I feel guilty that my job demands so much of me because I can't balance it out with the rest of my life. So many in my career are doing more events - networking, speaking, advancing their career - and I find I'm envious of that because I can't. I just can't always get a babysitter or be at certain things, sometimes twice or three times a week on top of working hours. I give all that I can and I need to learn to be happy with that. No matter what this career demands.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel like I'm fit... but not nearly as fit as others I know.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel like I'm healthy.... but not nearly as healthy as others I know.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel like I have a great man in my life... but I so rarely get to see him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel like I have lots of friends... but I can't recall the last girls' night out I allowed myself to attend.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I love my job... but 11 hours + away is too much. I may have to find something else closer to home. My girls will only need me around more and more as they reach teen-hood. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm tired. So tired and so busy. This time in my life is like when I went back to college and all of my other friends were having babies or enjoying being single and I was married, trying to pay off debt, and working my ass off in school and work so that my life would be amazing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm an anomaly because I'm not married or living with someone to help me. I don't have two incomes to help with the bills. There is no other adult around to help with the kids or housework. I have a few short weekends out of the month where I can spend time with the man I love. We don't get to work out together or pop out to dinner.... even when we do have time together. We have kids to take care of or not enough money to do anything.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't mean to bitch. Ok, yeah I do. Sometimes, life feels like it's beating me up. I know there are things I can do to change things.... and part of that is looking at what I DO have instead of what everyone else has.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I just needed to put it down on paper (or computer screen) and admit to myself that my comparisons to everyone else's lives only makes mine look lacking and less than. And that's just not the truth of things at all. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The truth is, there is no one else I know who's life is like mine. There is no one else I know who is doing what I'm doing, how I'm doing it. Who has the same expectations as I do. Who has the same situation as I do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Comparison... just isn't helping things at all. Time to take a closer look at me, my life, who, what and where I want to be. The best, most grandest version of me that I can be... not an "almost" version of anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's a work in progress.</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/4720069109458263204/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/comparison-is-thief-of-joy.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/4720069109458263204?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/4720069109458263204?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/comparison-is-thief-of-joy.html" title="Comparison is the thief of joy" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_z_t8wIS7OM/URm7CqDKrjI/AAAAAAAADF4/H0_Vey-EX8w/s72-c/comparison.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMEQXk8fyp7ImA9WhBTFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-5372063859284248174</id><published>2013-02-12T07:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2013-02-12T07:40:00.777-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-02-12T07:40:00.777-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="exes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="long distance relationship" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="codependent" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dragons" /><title>Clearing Out of Old, Harmful Beliefs</title><content type="html">&lt;i&gt;I started this post a few weeks ago and never finished it...&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I mentioned a few posts back that I was in the process of "clearing things out". I believe that good is coming to us all the time. If we're not feeling it or sensing it, then we are not allowing it. Which basically means we're blocking it in some way. My goal, this year, is to continue clearing out the blocks to my awareness of love, good, and joy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the spirit of clearing things out, I am taking moments in my morning and evening to meditate and pray and listen. As things come to me, I acknowledge them and then release them for healing. I noticed, this past week, two deep beliefs that I've carried for some time:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;I am always going to have to take care of myself.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;I am not worth sacrificing for.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, these beliefs have "served" me in some way these past several years. After all, I felt as if I was very alone and frightened at the end of my marriage. Heck, even during my marriage, I came to the sad realization that I would always have to take care of myself... in all sorts of ways. I think my mom helped with that belief. She always stowed away money. She always told me that men were assholes and could't be trusted. When you hear that enough, I guess it becomes the voice you carry around into adulthood. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am not worth sacrificing for. Yeah, that one comes from way back too. From wanting my boyfriend-then-husband to defend me to his parents. From having a husband who was gone all of the time. To dating a soldier who always hoped that I would move to wherever *his* career took him. Now I'm dating a man who claims to hate this town I live in. He says he will never - ever - consider moving here and of course, I'm not all that surprised because I carry this deep belief that even if he did, he'd resent me for it. After all, I'm not worth making any sort of sacrifice for.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I guess it's no surprise for me to say that I've not had a moment of free time to finish all of the posts in my head. This one though? This one has been sticking with me. Allow me to continue...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I find that I have difficulty understanding my worth when it comes to other people. Obviously I understand my OWN worth, when it comes to me. After all, I know that I can provide for myself and take care of myself and not really have to rely on anyone. But when someone tries to explain to me that they CAN be relied upon, that I can relax and allow them to nurture or care for me, I then fall back to my other core belief... and feel like no, no, I don't want to be a bother to anyone. I don't want anyone to resent that they have to give up something to care for or nurture me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;This is something I need to work on. Obviously.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They say awareness is the first step. Correct?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I may be sitting with this for a little while. Do you have any thoughts or insights on this? Do any of you feel like this? Is this more co-dependency talking?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm asking you, dear readers and fellow over-thinkers, to be my therapy as I clear out these cobwebs and allow some light in. (&lt;i&gt;or is that too much?)&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/5372063859284248174/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/clearing-out-of-old-harmful-beliefs.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/5372063859284248174?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/5372063859284248174?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/02/clearing-out-of-old-harmful-beliefs.html" title="Clearing Out of Old, Harmful Beliefs" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkEEQX8-eip7ImA9WhNaEE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-6837353022378935418</id><published>2013-01-24T06:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2013-01-24T06:30:00.152-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-01-24T06:30:00.152-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="divorce" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="exes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gratitude" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gentleman Jack" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love" /><title>My Bed - The Stories it could tell...</title><content type="html">On Sunday morning, I woke up before Gentleman Jack. As usual, I rolled over and breathed in his manly scent. I smiled to myself, with such gratitude, for having him there. In my bed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I rolled over to my back and other thoughts came to mind. The morning was quiet except for the sounds of his deep breathing and I recalled hearing my husband, in that same spot...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&amp;nbsp;******&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
I recall buying this bed with my husband, being so excited to buy our very first bedroom set. We felt like such grownups. Finally. I recall nursing our daughter in the bed as well.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
My mind then went dark. I can remember trying to sleep in the bed with my husband after our marriage was in distress. I remember feeling sick, having him next to me. I wanted him out. I remember how lonely the bed felt - this giant king bed - when I finally had it to myself.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
I stayed on my side of the bed for months, never even pulling back the covers on "his" side. Then, one night, I moved to the middle of the bed and made it my own. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
At some point, I realized that I needed to make space for another man in my life. I moved back over to my side again and imagined filling that spot with someone special. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
Soldier came into my life but only occupied that spot a few times before he was deployed to Iraq for over a year. I can remember feeling safe enough to have him spend the night because my daughters were too small to see him still asleep under the covers before I took them to daycare. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
I spent 15 months wishing a man would occupy that spot but it was instead filled with friends who'd spend the night to keep me company. And lovers. Women lovers. I remember one particular evening with a girlfriend that made me long for another man in my life. I needed a MAN in my bed. That spot was made for a man.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
I remember Soldier coming home on &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/search/label/R%20and%20R" target="_blank"&gt;R &amp;amp; R&lt;/a&gt; and sleeping in that spot. I remember the insane amount of out-of-control, out-of-body, and emotionally-disconnected sex we had. I wanted him to FILL that place in my bed... but all he did was lie in it. I felt even more alone and wanted my bed to myself again. I was reminded of how alone I felt at the end of my marriage.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
We broke up in this bed. My heart was broken, right here where I'm typing this post.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
Then there was my friend with benefits. My sweet now-best-male-friend who occupied that place for a few nights. He reminded me of the warmth and intimacy of sharing my bed with a man. He held me, reminded me that I was worth being loved.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
But that side of the bed? Still wasn't filled.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
I recall the night I cried, prayed like I left my own skin, that someone would understand me, love me for who I was in that very moment - no matter how screwed up I was. I prayed that prayer, right here. I felt invisible arms around me, right here. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Right here... I knew I would be okay again.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
I remember feeling that safe, intimate, warm connection again the moment I was in GJ's arms. I remember, the first night he spent the night, and breathing him in.  I remember feeling, finally, that the place in my bed was filled.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
I knew my bed was now occupied by someone other than me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
****** &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Back in the moment again, I turned my body to him. He awoke enough to wrap his arms completely around me. I fit perfectly, tucked into the shape of his body. Feeling nothing but joy, I fell asleep again. </content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/6837353022378935418/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/01/my-bed-stories-it-could-tell.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/6837353022378935418?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/6837353022378935418?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/01/my-bed-stories-it-could-tell.html" title="My Bed - The Stories it could tell..." /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EERXs7fip7ImA9WhNbF0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-7423449692360152899</id><published>2013-01-21T06:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2013-01-21T06:00:04.506-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-01-21T06:00:04.506-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="divorce" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="long distance relationship" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="inspiration" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gentleman Jack" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love" /><title>Lowering the Bitterness Flag; Raising the Flag of Surrender</title><content type="html">Being &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/01/my-deepest-prayer-return-to-love.html" target="_blank"&gt;sick in a bed&lt;/a&gt; for a week will definitely put some things in perspective. Especially when I spent most of that time alone and unable to move without pain. I'm now a week past the illness and feeling much lighter. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I realize that I've been a victim of bitterness for some time now. I've fallen into some sort of resentfulness and no one I know is immune to it. That's simply just not how I want to live. I recall feeling the same way after my separation and divorce. It's easy to do. I also recall longing for some rescue from the depths that I'd allowed myself to fall. The best rescue, I found, was complete surrender.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f36OC6jYnt4/UPy-S0DW63I/AAAAAAAADEg/1mdQWYgAehc/s1600/white_flag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f36OC6jYnt4/UPy-S0DW63I/AAAAAAAADEg/1mdQWYgAehc/s320/white_flag.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That's when I really began searching, reading more, meditating more, breathing more. Do you know that when you are feeling angry or bitter, you literally hold your breath? It puts your entire body into panic mode. I'm trying to stay aware. Watch my thoughts. Listen for the mis-perceptions behind them. Move beyond them by surrendering to something bigger than me. Someone or Some Power who knows the order to the seeming chaos that drives my resentment. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;
&lt;b&gt;I don't have a plan.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There are no marriage plans. No plan for a triathlon. Not even, really, a plan for my career. I've always felt better with a plan. To see others and their plans.... well... it's pissed me off the past several months. I couldn't hold it against them, however, because I know that I'm getting in my own way. I'm trying to control the uncontrollable.... even when I won't trust it. I'm too frightened to believe I know what's best for me anymore. I've been living in the past for too long. The future looks uncertain. I can sit and analyze and get angry and try to figure it out. Eventually, I'm tired and really frustrated. I forgot that I can't make a future happen. And when things were &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2012/12/christmas-single-mom-long-distance.html" target="_blank"&gt;looking really bleak with Gentleman Jack&lt;/a&gt;, I realized just how little control I really had anyway.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That's when I knew I had to be aware. Stay present. Stay in the NOW. I have to surrender the past and not bring it into my future. I have to allow the future to be whatever it's going to be. I cannot be frightened. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All that I can do is look at the moment I am in, pray about it, breathe deeply and notice the good, the love, what I can be grateful for in that second. It's helping. I still have my moments but this... is... helping.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One of the sure ways I could tell?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Being around Gentleman Jack this weekend and all that we wanted to do was hold each other. Touch each other. Breathe each other. We would wrap up, a jumble of arms and legs, and fall completely into the moment of BEING with ourselves, our love, our skin, our heartbeats. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
His presence in my life is an uplifting, pure touch of greatness... even despite the difficulties. And to know that we only have 2 weeks until we see each other again? Instead of the 4 or 5 weeks we were getting through (barely) for the past several months? It wasn't so hard to say goodbye. We have our lives but we have each other. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And it is so good.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/7423449692360152899/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/01/lowering-bitterness-flag-raising-flag.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/7423449692360152899?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/7423449692360152899?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/01/lowering-bitterness-flag-raising-flag.html" title="Lowering the Bitterness Flag; Raising the Flag of Surrender" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f36OC6jYnt4/UPy-S0DW63I/AAAAAAAADEg/1mdQWYgAehc/s72-c/white_flag.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUYAQXcyeCp7ImA9WhBSFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-4109073546675789430</id><published>2013-01-10T13:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2013-02-21T15:45:40.990-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-02-21T15:45:40.990-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="natural medicine" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="depression" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="beautiful people" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="A Course in Miracles" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="quotes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="books" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="inspiration" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Marianne Williamson" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spirituality" /><title>My Deepest Prayer: A Return to Love</title><content type="html">To continue the theme from &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/01/thoughts-to-end-2012-and-begin-2013.html" target="_blank"&gt;my last post&lt;/a&gt;... let's call it the "clearing of stuff"... I came down with the flu. I have to smile at the symbolism.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My homeopath had just recommended a remedy for how I've been feeling emotionally - as &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/01/thoughts-to-end-2012-and-begin-2013.html" target="_blank"&gt;I described in last week's post&lt;/a&gt;. (For those interested in the natural medicine aspects of this blog, the remedy she suggested is &lt;a href="http://www.secondwindhealing.com/_articles/article-sepia.pdf" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sepia&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.) The remedy fit me to a "T". A day after taking it, *BAM*, the flu.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now as with anything else I do, my goal is to find the darkness and shine light on it, clear it out. Homeopathy works the same way. If you've been pushing down an emotion, an ailment, allowing something to fester in your body, it will bring it to the surface to clear it out. Yoga does the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, although it sucks to be stuck in bed for 3+ days, I feel as if I'm no longer pushing stuff down, but getting it out. &lt;i&gt;*cough* So to speak...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've also been praying. A LOT. Prayers filled with begging and tears. Prayers of desperation. Longing for understanding and clarity. I'm not sure I've prayed like this in some time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In my prayers, I've asked for so much healing and light. For me. For all that I'm struggling with.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today, while lying on the couch recovering, I turned to my DVR recordings of &lt;a href="http://www.oprah.com/own-super-soul-sunday/super-soul-sunday.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;Oprah's Super Soul Sunday series&lt;/a&gt;. I found a &lt;a href="http://www.oprah.com/own-supersoulsunday/blogs/A-Return-to-Love-20-Years-Later" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;recording of one of my favorite spiritual teachers, Marianne Williamson&lt;/a&gt;. The discussion was the 20th anniversary of one of the very first books I ever read on spirituality - written by Marianne: &lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Return-Love-Reflections-Principles-Miracles/dp/0060927488/ref=la_B00455T7KU_1_2?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1357842400&amp;amp;sr=1-2" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;A Return to Love - A Reflection on the Principles of A Course in Miracles&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've quoted Marianne Williamson so much on this blog that she deserves her own label. As a matter of fact, I just created one. Click &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/search/label/Marianne%20Williamson" target="_blank"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; to see how often she inspires me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't know why I hear her... and it's like I've never heard her before... Everything she says sounds new and inspiring. Everything she says brings tears to my eyes and joy to my soul.&amp;nbsp; She even made Oprah cry, right then and there in the interview, with her words. And I've seen Oprah interview loads of spiritual teachers without tears.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I was watching, I began to add her inspired thoughts to my &lt;a href="https://www.facebook.com/LifeAsAClassroom" target="_blank"&gt;Facebook page&lt;/a&gt;. I typically do this as I'm reading or watching something uplifting and thought-provoking. Then I thought, &lt;i&gt;"I need to blog this!"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A few thoughts:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="userContent"&gt;For anyone who is disturbing to your natural 
state of peace, pray for their happiness, every day, for 30 days. One of
 two shifts will happen: either they will behave differently or their 
behavior will not affect you any more.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; A Course in Miracles 
says our greatest power to change the world is to change our minds about
 the world. Minds are joined. There is nowhere that you end and they 
begin. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Beautiful. And although it seems challenging, Marianne advises, "Yet it's easy to sit with anger and toxicity and bitterness? That's easier?!" It's easier to bless than blame...but not immediately.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;
&lt;i&gt;The principle of divine compensation: the greatness, the love, the highest creative possibility of who you could ever wish to be, is held in trust for you until you are ready to receive it. You can block it all day, every day, but it never goes away. It may come to you in another way, somehow. It is always there for you. It waits, patiently, for your open heart. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She describes it as a "download from God"; an undeletable file called "God's will". But unless you're open to it, you won't recognize it. If you feel bitterness, you'll see "bitter" on your screen. Whatever is in your mind, which shows up as open-heart or closed-heart, is what you will notice in your life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dammit! I know this! This is why I'm eternally trying to clear the clouds to see the light! I know it's there! Why am I not feeling worthy of it?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;"Everything that's happening is the perfect life lesson."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
....which I think is part of the problem. There has been so much that I've been fighting and so much that I want to learn from. Still, I keep questioning, &lt;i&gt;"Am I where I'm supposed to be?"&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;"A Course in Miracles says the goal of the curriculum is the attainment of inner peace."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
The question, then, is... can I find peace in this moment? In every moment? Can I allow my emotions to be a reminder that I'm looking at life through the eyes of fear? Can I trust that there is love in every moment?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;"I'm looking at those grey clouds and deciding that the sky is grey... rather than remembering that the sky is blue. Dear God, allow me to look at this differently."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And again.... the one that ALWAYS comes up in my life:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;"Only what I am withholding is lacking in every situation."&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That one is SOOOO hard for me. Yet, I witness its truth whenever I embrace it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I saw my daughter going into a "it's not fair!" fit the other day and I quickly redirected her to help her sister with her homework. Within 10 minutes, they were both happy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Helping someone else really does help us. It's just so difficult to remember when I or anyone is feeling the "woe is me" feeling.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I love how she sums up the Course:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;"It's not written with the tone of (condescending finger point) 'You SHOULD..'! It's written with the tone of, 'Just thought you might like to know this is how it is. So whatcha gonna do, Marianne? Are you gonna hold on to anger? Are you gonna hold on to bitterness? Are you gonna hold on to grievances? Or are you going to remember these principles:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;- Only what you are not giving can be lacking in any situation.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;- I am only here to love.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;- I am only here to forgive.'&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
I'd also like to add, from years of studying the Course, one of my favorite quotes:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;"I am only here to be truly helpful. I am here to represent Him who sent 
me. I do not have to worry about what to say or what to do, because He 
Who sent me will direct me. I am content to be wherever He wishes, 
knowing He goes there with me. I will be healed as I let Him teach me to
 heal."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;div style="background-color: white; border: medium none; color: black; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Marianne continues:&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;"What I've learned is that life has presented me with the perfect lessons to hone my spiritual muscles. The Course also says, 'It is not up to you what you learn. It is up to you whether you learn through joy or pain.'"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Juuust what I needed to hear right now. Still learning. Still clearing out the stuff.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One final thought:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Michaelangelo would say that when he would choose a piece of marble from a quarry, he imagined that God had already created the statue inside the marble. He said his job was to get rid of the excess marble.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;"As with us, it is our job to get rid of the excess useless fear and thought-forms of the world that hide the light of the soul."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What else is there? </content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/4109073546675789430/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/01/my-deepest-prayer-return-to-love.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/4109073546675789430?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/4109073546675789430?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/01/my-deepest-prayer-return-to-love.html" title="My Deepest Prayer: A Return to Love" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUYAQXc8fip7ImA9WhBSFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-314676106062764827</id><published>2013-01-05T12:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2013-02-21T15:45:40.976-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-02-21T15:45:40.976-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="depression" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="birthdays" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="exes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="body issues" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blending families" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="random" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="quotes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="long distance relationship" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="codependent" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gentleman Jack" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dragons" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><title>Thoughts to end 2012 and begin 2013</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="tr_bq"&gt;
I'm so ready to get back to some sort of normal routine. Even my trips to see Gentleman Jack haven't been normal. We went from 4 -5 weeks without seeing each other to 2 weeks together practically every day. It feels like an emotional roller coaster because I'm so sad, exhausted or feeling forced indifference when we're not together and then so happy and relaxed when we are.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'd like to say that this will be a coherent post but I doubt it will be. I've started so many posts during the past 2 weeks that I've not finished. So many thoughts. So many feelings. I know I left you all hanging on &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2012/12/christmas-single-mom-long-distance.html" target="_blank"&gt;Christmas day&lt;/a&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here's one I typed on January 2:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After yet another not-so-positive encounter with the ex’s
new wife – I swear that woman despises me – I left their house begging and
praying for another way to look at things. I do realize that as long as I allow
her actions, stare-downs, snide comments, and so forth to bother me, then I’m
handing over my power to her. There has to be another way of dealing with it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A friend mentioned that perhaps she’s like &lt;a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/12/10/tard-the-grumpy-cat-speaks-pretty-freaking-adorable_n_2273523.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;Tardar Sauce&lt;/a&gt;, the
cat. She only &lt;i&gt;looks&lt;/i&gt; grumpy. Ok, that’s a start.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then this morning, I woke up to a note about Humor and
Openness from Pema Chodron:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;
&lt;i&gt;"Learning how to be kind to ourselves is important. When we
look into our own hearts and begin to discover what is confused and what is
brilliant, what is bitter and what is sweet, it isn’t just ourselves that we’re
discovering. We’re discovering the universe. When we discover the buddha that
we are, we realize that everything and everyone is Buddha. We discover that
everything is awake, and everyone is awake. Everything and everyone is precious
and whole and good. When we regard thoughts and emotions with humor and
openness, that’s how we perceive the universe."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ok, maybe I can work with that. Can I look at her actions and smile? Can I offer myself
a break for taking her so seriously when there is nothing I’m doing to harm her
in any way? Can I look at her and love her despite her fears, her jealousy, her spitefulness?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
*** &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yes, that's me. Still trying to find a way to &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2012/08/an-open-letter-to-exs-new-wife.html" target="_blank"&gt;accept the new wife&lt;/a&gt; but still struggling with thoughts of &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2012/09/exposed-real-truth-of-how-i-feel-about.html" target="_blank"&gt;how I really feel about her&lt;/a&gt;. I really want to yell in her face. Yell and scream and cry the ugly cry. Then hug her until she breaks down all of the walls she's hiding behind.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That's kind of where I am with everything, right now. I'm feeling all sorts of feelings from anger and resentment, to goofy happiness, to frustration, to peaceful acceptance, to hope and faith for so much good, to fear of the worst. Of course, if you were around me in real life, all that you would see is me being me. Loving and kind and open and smiling... doing what I'm &lt;i&gt;supposed&lt;/i&gt; to do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I AM very aware of the unstableness. It feels like an acute unsettling. I may be feeling lots of things but joy is missing. Something is lacking. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm aware of the depth of this and doing all that I normally do to nurture myself. I'm allowing myself whatever I'm feeling at the time - even if I have to cry in a quiet place, yell in the mirror, laugh with GJ over Skype or dance around the living room in completely happy silliness. I'm aware that the last time I felt this, my hormones were off pretty severely.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Of course, Gentleman Jack is picking up on all of this because he's so fucking intuitive. The man senses energy from miles away. It's so weird.... and lovely. And irritating.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He tries to assure me that perhaps something's going on with me hormonally, but then he chides himself on not taking my feelings at what they are. But then he feels more comfortable thinking there's an explanation other than, &lt;i&gt;"She's not into our relationship anymore." &lt;/i&gt;Quite the contrary, actually, he is still so much good in my life. He frustrates the hell out of me too. I long for him and then I want to push him away. I'm tired from work, parenthood, domesticity,&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;taking care of everything and everybody. Just tired. I long for respite. I long for the joy to come back. I long for SOMETHING.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My life is a blessing. I'm aware of all of the good. I'm accepting of where I am although it's a little frightening to feel so off. I feel as if I'm letting everyone down in some way because I'm not really all there. I'm not always able to feel joy for someone when they're feeling it. I'm not always able to feel disappointment for someone when they're feeling it. I'm disconnected, somehow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The good news is that I can stand back and acknowledge these things instead of buying into them wholeheartedly. As Pema said above, I'm "discovering my own universe"... or at least the solar system I'm spinning in at the moment. I'm looking at it with humor and openness, as best as I can, in whatever moment I'm in.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;GJ and I are getting back to our normal routines of only 2 weeks apart again. We're Skyping once a week - because seeing his face lights up my world.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;My daughters come home tonight for the first time since Christmas Day. We'll be celebrating one of their birthdays this weekend and then back to school on Monday.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;I'm taking a retreat, alone, next month to just be in nature. To breathe. To step outside of my life.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;I'm paying attention to my thoughts and asking for a different way of thinking when they're harmful.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;I'm watching the words that I say and rewording them, at least in my mind, to be the truth that I'd like them to be.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;I'm nurturing my body with a detox after so much rich food and drink from the holidays. I'm riding my bike trainer, again, in the evenings because cycling makes me smile. I'm doing a yoga class with a friend, at least once a week.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;I'm nurturing my soul by reading every night. I'm allowing myself the absence of the computer in the evenings after being on it all day long - even though that messes with my blog reading and writing. (Sorry.)&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;I'm acknowledging the random thoughts and beliefs that seem to be digging their way up to my conscious mind. I'm looking at them, asking myself if they're real or not.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;I'm taking every moment of 2013 with as much gentleness as I can muster, to heal whatever needs healing.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know me and I know that this darkness will dissipate and reveal a beautiful new light that was always there. I have to move all of the "stuff" out of the way. That's what I'm doing. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hope your year brings light too.</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/314676106062764827/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/01/thoughts-to-end-2012-and-begin-2013.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/314676106062764827?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/314676106062764827?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2013/01/thoughts-to-end-2012-and-begin-2013.html" title="Thoughts to end 2012 and begin 2013" /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0IHQHg_eCp7ImA9WhNVFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-7390787915234753576</id><published>2012-12-25T14:39:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2012-12-25T15:05:31.640-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-12-25T15:05:31.640-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="exes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blending families" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="long distance relationship" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="grief" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gentleman Jack" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><title>Christmas: Single Mom. Long Distance Relationship.</title><content type="html">It's Christmas afternoon and it's snowing outside. What a gorgeous sight.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My house is quiet. Not a soul here except me and the pup. She's enjoying the new toys that Santa brought her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Gentleman Jack and the boys left in a hurry earlier, as did several other house guests who were here for brunch. The ex came over and picked up my girls around the same time. The house quickly went from frenzied, jolly Christmas excitement to nothing but the sound of the crackling fire in my fireplace. We were all afraid the streets would ice over and no one would be able to drive safely. That's common in this area every year around this time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It also stings to know that my ex's family is celebrating with him, our girls and his new wife. All of those people who loved me and said they miss me. They're all in town - a HUGE family - but I've not heard from any of them. Not a peep. It just doesn't seem right to be forgotten so easily.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm cleaning, sad and lonely. Christmas shouldn't end so quickly. I shouldn't have to be alone when I have two children and a man in my life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But this is the life of a divorced, single mom with joint custody and a love affair with a man who lives 200 miles away.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've wanted to write these past few weeks but have not had a single moment to myself. I guess I can use this quiet now. Now I can catch up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My life has been busy. Work has been insane. Holiday parties and gatherings and so many things to prepare. I've done better at staying in touch with Gentleman Jack after he made note of my &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2012/11/unavailability.html" target="_blank"&gt;unavailability - even emotionally&lt;/a&gt; - since I began my new job in June.&amp;nbsp; Then there was the &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2012/11/pardon-me-while-i-kick-my-own-ass.html" target="_blank"&gt;ugliness of our last day together after Thanksgiving&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've done what I can to reach out and let him know I'm thinking of him or that I love him. I'm still unsuccessful at knowing what's going on in his life lately. We spent another 4 weeks apart between Thanksgiving and Christmas so we could save money to spend this past weekend AND next weekend together. A Christmas with all 4 children. Our blended family Christmas. Plus my birthday and New Years too. We waited so long to have these days together. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Also?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was another 4 weeks of me being too exhausted to talk too long at night, too busy during the day, and too brain-dead to recall what's going on in his life. In those 4 weeks, I've detected irritation at my disconnect with him. I'm trying.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But one quick snap during this weekend and we were back in my bedroom crying it out again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He's scared about "us". He's not sure anymore. He says he misses me... we can't do 4 weeks apart anymore. We both agree. I try to tell him that I'm doing the best that I can. That I'm so tired, I'm putting in the hard work now so that I can be more independent in a job later. Logically, he understands and is supportive. Emotionally, he feels sad, worried, lonely. He's lost faith.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I cry and feel beaten down. I'm trying to do both but I'm getting lost in there too. I've not had a moment for fitness, barely any yoga, unable to cook, too much fast food, not enough planning, not enough money to plan. I'm broken, kicking my own ass to make sure everyone else has a piece of me but I don't. I'm getting left out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We love each other and go on with our weekend. Things are good. We laugh a lot. The kids have a blast. We're loving, affectionate and enjoying each other like things are normal.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But then I awake at 5 a.m. in a panic. This is it, isn't it? We're not going to make it through 2013.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We're not going to make it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I tell him I had a bad dream and that I'm afraid of losing him. "I'm not going anywhere, punkin." He reassures me and pulls me closer before dozing off again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I'm scared. Maybe we won't make it. Maybe this is it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I really really don't know.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm trying.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/7390787915234753576/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2012/12/christmas-single-mom-long-distance.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/7390787915234753576?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/7390787915234753576?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2012/12/christmas-single-mom-long-distance.html" title="Christmas: Single Mom. Long Distance Relationship." /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYMRXgzeip7ImA9WhNWFUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911829638608693004.post-1732317972995504204</id><published>2012-12-15T12:09:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2012-12-15T13:03:04.682-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-12-15T13:03:04.682-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="A Course in Miracles" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="world events" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="grief" /><title>Emotions. Gun Control. People Control. More Angels.</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Inhale, &lt;i&gt;"Just"&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Exhale, &lt;i&gt;"This"&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This was my mantra in today's yoga class. It was a tiny reminder to stay in the present moment, the only moment of which we have any control at all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Or do we?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you're as emotionally exhausted as I am, maybe you don't want to read anything else about the elementary school shootings in Connecticut anymore. Then again, if you know anything about the commentary on this blog, you'll know that I'm always seeking lessons, compassion and love in every situation. I hope to step outside of the utter rage, gut-wrenching sadness and helplessness we all feel.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;h3&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Emotions.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No matter what I do, I can't help but feel the heaviness of the world. I've mentioned it before. When I feel something, it is felt deep to my core.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Upon hearing yesterday's news, I couldn't stop crying. The strangest part of all is that I felt the heaviness starting from the &lt;i&gt;night before&lt;/i&gt;. I couldn't shake the sadness of, "What if something happened to my children?" as I tried to fall asleep that night.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In my despair yesterday morning, I reached out to GJ. I knew he was away from a computer, radio or TV and may not have heard the news. When I heard his voice, I knew that he'd just found out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I also know him. He will do whatever it takes NOT to feel the low that I felt. It pains him too much so he redirects his attention. He started to suggest that I redirect too but then stopped himself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;"I know you. I know that you feel the world's pain. You are the most connected person I know. I also know that you know how to take care of yourself so I'm not going to tell you to try to feel better. You know what you need to do. I sometimes wonder, though, if you enjoy feeling the hurt. Maybe it makes you feel more alive."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't enjoy feeling like my heart has been shredded, no. But I do know that if I can process it, it will release. Otherwise, it grips me no matter what I do... and it'll show up elsewhere unless I address it head on.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;h3&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Gun Control. People Control. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You know there's a &lt;a href="http://lmgtfy.com/?q=suicide+hotline" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;suicide hotline&lt;/a&gt;, right? It's a place for people to call when they feel grief, frustration, rage, depression, abandoned and isolated. There are counselors there to listen and help. Attempting suicide is illegal. Did you know that?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think that people want to take other lives for the same reasons they want to commit suicide. As a matter of fact, many will commit suicide after committing homicide. But there is no phone number for someone to call when they are considering homicide. And it's illegal too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I heard countless psychologists talk about a "profile" of someone who would do the heinous act that took place yesterday. The "profile" fits most people. We've all had these feelings of rage or isolation, depression or anxiety, frustration or abandonment. Many of us aren't going to act on them. Or maybe we do, in our own passive aggressive ways. Cutting someone off in traffic. Stealing a parking spot. Looking the other way when someone needs help. Yelling at our kids. Refusing kindness because we feel like it's not been offered to us.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Some, however, will take the act even further because there has been no one who understands, no one who will listen, no one who will offer love that they recognize.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haven't we all felt that way? Yet we make it so taboo to talk about those feelings, to admit to them, to empathize with someone else who feels them. Don't we all need a "rage hotline" sometimes? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Does this mean that we need to have stricter gun laws? I'm not sure. What I do know is when something is highly regulated or prohibited altogether, that doesn't mean it will stop anything. Ever heard of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prohibition_in_the_United_States" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;Prohibition&lt;/a&gt;? The &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/War_on_drugs" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;War on Drugs&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sadly, just as the shooter forced his way into the school yesterday, if someone wants something badly enough, they will find a way.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Case and point: The shooter's mother collected guns and they were easily accessible to him.... especially after he killed her. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Do we need to do some deep analysis on gun control and our mental health system together? I definitely think so.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Still...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Is it naive of me to wonder if we should notice the "loner", the one who's not like the others, the one who seems a bit off...? Like &lt;a href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2012/10/how-homeless-man-taught-me-about.html" target="_blank"&gt;the stranger who reminded me to notice the homeless man at the train station&lt;/a&gt;. Maybe if we could see the Being in that person, a single ripple effect could change some things?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is why &lt;i&gt;A Course in Miracles&lt;/i&gt; says &lt;a href="http://iamuniversity.org/every-encounter-is-a-holy-encounter/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;"every encounter is a holy encounter&lt;/a&gt;".&amp;nbsp; Every encounter with another person offers us the chance to see the good in them, beyond the facade of our skin, clothing, or human actions. Every encounter affects you and the person you encounter. What are you leaving that person with? Love? Or a validation of their unworthiness?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;h3&gt;
&lt;b&gt;More Angels&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As a mother, my heart cannot bear the thoughts that I've had the past 24 hours. I can't imagine being a parent who sent their child to school&amp;nbsp; - THEY SENT THEIR CHILD TO SCHOOL - such a normal every day thing.... only to have them not return. To have holidays...with presents left unopened.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My body carries the devastation of the families whose loved ones put their lives in front of the children's lives and made the sacrifice to save one, or more, little babies.... but lost.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can't imagine having the job of being a first responder. Witnessing the devastation. As an EMT or coroner... what they must have seen!&amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;I can't imagine the helplessness of the teachers, the other students, the parents, the families, the school staff, the police, the hospitals, the town, the state... all of it... just too much. Oh God, it hurts me so badly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But stepping back, I have to remind myself that we are all souls - ageless. Our spirits aren't children or young adults or humans who've lived any length of time. We are the same. We've felt the innocence of childhood and the madness of someone who can hurt.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have to look at it all and find the angels among us. I have to see the good, the coming together, the compassion, the love, the chance to try again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Or I can see that there are more angels to look over us, all of us, reminding us that maybe we can do something different next time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe we can remember what we can control, in all of this.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Just."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"This."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ydca8mwl2qk/UMy8oWbBUSI/AAAAAAAADC8/shim_q4oGCE/s1600/rogers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ydca8mwl2qk/UMy8oWbBUSI/AAAAAAAADC8/shim_q4oGCE/s400/rogers.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/feeds/1732317972995504204/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2012/12/emotions-gun-control-people-control.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/1732317972995504204?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8911829638608693004/posts/default/1732317972995504204?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifesclassroom.blogspot.com/2012/12/emotions-gun-control-people-control.html" title="Emotions. Gun Control. People Control. More Angels." /><author><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10112766306021310705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WaBgEepTIA8/T7U8o_mR4qI/AAAAAAAACH4/KvZOJtfSkSQ/s220/27195_1402987964532_1527338409_1023077_7781159_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ydca8mwl2qk/UMy8oWbBUSI/AAAAAAAADC8/shim_q4oGCE/s72-c/rogers.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
