Last week I developed a herstory of the agency I work for, Lanark County Interval House and Community Support. The agency was started by determined feminists in 1979 who were committed to finding a way to help women living with violence. It was an honour to put this together. As always in the nonprofit world, I wish I had more time to give this, it’s such an important and worthy story.
About an hour after a guided meditation that led me to “buy” the word MAGIC in exchange for releasing my attachment to the expectations and opinions of others, I pull this card:
“The act of creation, whether through childbirth, writing, building, drawing or any other method, is magic indeed. This is not the magic of the Magician which pulls from the external world but the deep quiet magic of the queens who conjure things into being from the very depths of their internal universe.”
Sometimes we speak truths that we only know once we hear the words leave our lips. It was one of those moments. The other day, on the back couch in the late afternoon sun. A warm support on the other end of the phone. “I want to blog and I …
Facebook served up this lovely piece to me the other day. It’s so smart like that.
This past year I separated from the man who I had called “The Love of My Life” for nine years. It was a hard decision. He’s a wonderful man, an excellent father. We have a beautiful little family with two young boys. We have fun together, laugh often, travel well, compete maybe a little too much when the board games come out. We love our extended family and friends.
“We” had built a life together.
And the idea of pulling apart that life was devastating.
But when I got quiet, when I listened only to the sweet voice of intuition, I knew we had to separate to keep growing. I knew we were holding each other back – old habits, well grooved patterns, lingering resentments were keeping us a little… stagnant.
The sweet voice of my intuition told me I had to be on my own for the next phase of my growth.
It’s not easy to end a relationship that is filled with so much love and gratefully, for us, most aspects of our relationship didn’t end. We still have our sweet family and love spending time together. We still laugh. We still love. We just do it in different homes, giving each other the space to discover who we are without the other.
Who knows, I may forever call him “The Love of My Life” and keep on loving him as I also love my strong, independent self.
This piece by Heidi Priebe echos my sentiments and so in this case I’m grateful Facebook is paying so much attention and offered up some confirmation that I’m not the only one who knows that our biggest loves don’t always last forever. That doesn’t mean they weren’t magical.
“Tell me what it is you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? When it’s over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride, married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. Instructions for living a life: pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.” ~ Mary Oliver
Too many days on the couch. Too many Netflix episodes watched (thank you, Jane The Virgin). Too many moments spent feeling sorry for myself. Too many hours thinking I should be more productive. Week after week. It’s been just over five weeks since I fell, missing a step and landing on …