Thursday, July 7, 2011

Marathoner

I have been having a hard time writing here, because when I wrote in upset recently, it had unexpected reverberations, my children were left reeling, even though they thought they were fine at the time. And even when I was over the storm, having been able to write it out, to ride it out that way, well, for my family the storm was just starting, and I was the cause, an unwitting weathervane, swinging wild. I learned I have to be more careful in what I write here, and I took down some posts. And yet I want to continue writing here, that way lies sanity, so it is a precarious dance, and I am trying to find the steps, to find my way back as our family heals from crashing unspoken fears, as we find our way to forgiveness and understanding and acceptance of what is, and who is. We are all still a little bruised. But we are finding our way through.

It's just that I have no tolerance at all for anything unresolved. I want it all better right now. But I have to let it evolve. I have to trust our history. If we were all together in the same place, it would be easier. We would be laughing and being silly by now. It's like the Mark Twain quote Elizabeth posted today: Humor is tragedy plus time. If we could look into each other's faces, we'd get to the humor that much sooner.

In the meantime, my husband has been cooking for me again. It is such a sweetness to come home and see him moving about the kitchen, creating a simple summer meal for us. Grilled tuna steaks with avocado and cherry tomato salad, prepared with love. Calling me for the supermarket to ask what I'm feeling like this evening. He doesn't say much when it comes to any turbulence of emotion. He's not one to unspool the knotted thread of what he might be feeling. Look up stoic in the dictionary and you'll find the man I married. And if you come at him in anger, he will batten down the hatches like no one's home. But if he feels safe, he will come out of that cave and love you through his actions. Then you see the man who is at heart a patient marathoner, uncomplaining, and oh so loved.


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21 comments:

  1. That's a great quote for today! and every day.

    Not always steady as she goes but your little ship will right itself again with all that love and patient heart at the helm.
    Love,
    Yo
    PS Thank you!

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  2. Angella,
    It's hard to know what of ourselves to reveal in such a large space, a space where people we know (but don't know certain parts) read. I struggle with the same thing sometimes. It's a strange balance. I find when I'm feeling this way and still need to resolve my feelings, I use my journal instead. I'm a write-resolver it's how I've always been, how many of us have always been, I think.
    I'm also a person who needs to resolve things as quickly as possible and it just doesn't work that way. Sometimes the space, even though it doesn't feel like it, is good for us too.
    Still, I think we all appreciate your honesty, your willingness to go to a place many people are scared to go.
    Sending love.
    xo
    Rachel

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  3. I'm sorry to hear it upset your family. It's nice that your husband is loving you through food again... :)

    It would drive me so crazy to be with a man who shut down and got quiet when things got emotional. That kind of person and I would be a bad pair, because I have a tendency to do that, too!

    Hope all the storm clouds clear completely and everyone is calm and happy soon.

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  4. I think we all draw lines which we do not cross in this blog world. It's just too weird not to.
    Do you have a friend you can talk to, write to? Sometimes that helps so much.
    I am glad that tides have turned, roughness is smoothing at the edges.

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  5. It was so wonderful coming here today and reading your description of your husband cooking for you, stoic and full of grace. Really wonderful writing.

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  6. Yolie, hold that thought and thank you.

    Gradydoc, thank you, too.

    Mark, you always see the glass half full. i love that. and you.

    Rachel, I think i scared myself. as a fellow writer-resolver, I'm doing a lot more writing in a private journal these days. i'm not even really sure if this post i just put up is okay. i'm not so sure of what i know anymore. i suppose that is growth.

    ellen, he doesn't shut down for emotional, only for emotional assault. i am still learning there is a difference.

    Ms. Moon, i have a therapist. i think she helps a lot. and all of you here help too. thank you.

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  7. i really love how you describe your love for your man. it really is breathtaking.

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  8. Angella,
    I've scared myself, too. I've scared relatives (one of whom actually just called to see if I was OK because of something I just posted today). I assured him it was just a bad day, it's how I get it out, it's how I become OK. I think what's helped me during the shaky times is knowing through the connections I've made - other people out there have/do feel the same. Our feelings are universal even though we deal with them very internally and independently. You will find a center again. There are days when I feel I'm writing on bone, but I always build layers back. Be kind to yourself, as my mother would say, and be patient. We are much stronger than we feel sometimes.
    xo

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  9. ...I just wrote a long comment and I think it disappeared somewhere never to be found again. Frustrating. I wrote that I noticed that you had taken down some posts and figured it was due to their sensitive/personal nature. Blogs are interesting. We all start them because we want to express something. We all know what that is and what we get from it. And we keep them going because they satisfy that need. I was recently told that if I wanted a more popular blog I should shy away from writing about personal things and stick to the classroom or professional aspect of my life. However, that would defeat the purpose of MY blog which is to share my passion for the journey I am on as a male early elementary school teacher. Obviously, 37 Paddington serves a purpose for you. Sometimes we all write things that may cause waves for those we love but, as you write, we find our way through. The important thing is love. From there all the rest can be worked out. Sending you love and peace.

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  10. Sorry to hear that. It had the opposite effect here. Faces became somber and anger disappeared as sympathetic and empathetic hearts ached. Please keep writing. It connects us to his soul.....and yours.

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  11. I agree with Ms. Moon -- I tend not to ever write about my marriage -- that's my line. But you know just about everything else about me, I'd say!

    I hope that you and your family will find a safe place -- of humor leavened by love --

    We sure do love you out here, though.

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  12. Your husband sounds much like mine in temperament and emotions and cannot be pushed to discuss what he is not ready to ...

    I am still working out the fine line between honesty on this public page and what I am comfortable with and think I would not have your courage, although I can also see and feel that you gather a lot of support and love through your openness

    best wishes Isabel x

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  13. Candice, i do love him. nice to see you here.

    Rachel, you bring tears to my eyes with your truth. It does feel as if I am writing on bone, and somehow i forget that what I feel in the moment will not be true forever more, that it will pass, it will get better. I am raw in so many areas of my life right now. And yet I function. Perhaps this is the only way to build the layers back. And you are right. It does help to discover that you are not alone with such feelings, that in fact they are universal for a certain kind of soul, and together we can all make it back to center. I think that is the lure of blogging. Writing helps enormously. Writing to fellow travelers who somehow understand, helps in another thirst-quenching way. Thank you, dear Rachel. You are a light.

    Dear Gary, thank you for this. I love that you write about you passion for what you do, it connects me, all of us, to you in such an authentic way. I actually disagree with the person who told you not to include your feelings. Feelings are what we share, and I am always inspired when I read your blog, knowing that you are on a journey that nourishes your soul. It is a privilege to witness and I'm grateful for you.

    Dear Bruce, if hearts ached, then the way back is possible. that is what i take from this. Thank you.

    My sister spirit Elizabeth, thank you. We are out on an exposed plain right now, but I see the safety of shelter ahead. Love to you.

    Isabel, was it courage or was it foolhardy and selfish? Because I do gather support here. Those of you who comment here help me make sense of things, as you did, and do. So perhaps it was both selfish and necessary in the moment. And now we are in another moment, and I am so glad you are here.

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  14. Just a quick note, I'll write more later, but making your blog open to family is a delicate balance, because you want to be able to share, yet do not want to hurt.
    I've made mine open, to everyone but my family. I know the things I say are true, but I also know they are my truth and they might not be open, ready to hear them.
    Delicate balance Angella, do what is right.

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  15. Miss A, my husband told me last night that he was going to quit reading my blog so i would feel free to write whatever i needed. i told him that he didn't make me feel inhibited. but maybe he was trying to tell me something else about how what i write makes HIM feel. It is indeed a delicate balance.

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  16. Dear Angella - I believe you are modeling something essential and beautiful-in-all-its-scary-truth to your children here. . . They witnessed you speaking your fears and working your way back from them, towards settlement and a deeper understanding - not only of yourself, but of them, your husband and your wider reading circle, too. . . A crisis for healing? You have modeled that one can go to frightening places and return intact - and more?

    I, too, find it difficult to know how much to say out here, esp. given our wish for authenticity, empathy and connection. There are times to speak and times to be silent and it takes a lifetime to discern which is appropriate when. A dear friend here advocates a practice he calls 'the energy of restraint' which implies a period of 'abiding' when uncertainty is the primary hesitation. But where love is concerned, a certain 'working out' can be an unexpected gift when the so-called 'slips' happen. (And are they indeed that? I wonder, since 'slips' so often bring their own type and timbre of instruction?). I appreciate your all-round courage, in the knowing and the not-knowing. And on we go, arms linked and loving. . . L, C x

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  17. Claire, one of the unexpected gifts of this "slip" I made, is this so thoughtful and loving comment from you. I am struck by the idea of "a period of abiding," which may be the real lesson here for me. I have so much trouble with what is unresolved. And this time, I have no choice but to sit and let it all unfold, having faith that nothing permanent has been broken, and the working out indeed can bring deeper understanding, that is the substance of what I hope. Love to you, dear friend.

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  18. Angella, my late husband just could not say that he was sorry after a conflict, but I knew that he was when he started to do laundry. It's the only time he ever operated the washing machine.

    And yes: when to write it down here, when to be silent...often a dilemma.

    I could benefit, probably, from some restraint.

    Thank you for the inspiration.

    xo

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  19. T., i suppose there are many ways to say sorry. we just need to know the language. thank you for this.

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