Monday, July 27, 2009

never the same again

Life has changed a lot!

Some for the better, some not so for the better.

When I chose to leave my marriage of 18 years, I knew that any changes to come could be difficult. At the time I thought little of what might be positive about the future other than a chance to start again and for life to be "different". Certainly, I was feeling there would be more pain and distress in the staying than in the leaving for the Big Unknown.

Over a year now and there have been tumultuous tides of change and yet hardly any to be seen on the surface of life per se.

After the initial shock of catastrophic physical change and the tumult of emotional pain passed, and time has morphed into days of more smiles than tears I still find that I've been huddled inside a shell of sorts this past few months. Like a tortoise or some ascetic hermit on a lonely mountain - I have battened down the emotional and social hatches of real life social engagement to recoup and thus nurture a changing emotional and social landscape within me! How ironic it is to say it in that way. I both cringe at and welcome this new phase of growth. The old wood is withering and I am in wait, under the ground, for the blooming season of Spring to begin something new. I now wonder if old tree trunks feel this kind of quiet accepting remorse as they shed one history in preparation for a move to the next.

The people I used to know are busy and I do not bother them. I have nothing to say. There are no common interests anymore, no familiarity of spirit ... just a bit of shared history now tainted with suspicion, repressed anger and the repose in their demeanour, which to me, suggests I am now a proven, betrayer in their eyes. I knew this would be so and I had prepared myself for its inevitability.

When it is cold outside, we close the doors against that cold; we light a fire at our hearth and sit beside it to wait out the bitter seasonal winds for the duration. All that frosty blustering, clamouring for reproach against us outside our emotional doors? I do not want it right now. It has been ....it is.... a time for nurturing me.

Normally, I feel guilty during phases like this. I am so hive-minded for the social collective I have an innate distrust of cloistered self protections. Depression, when one lives under a blanket of fear and isolation, can be ever present. But as much as I am wounded by the loss of what was before, I am positive that what will come will be worth the wait.

The changes being wrought in me during this shut-in time are in response to the changes being wrought out there where I do not yet have the courage - or the tools - to tread. The old life passes. A new life will emerge. In between - as it is now - is the Wintering of the Soul.

5 comments:

Petermcc said...

Wow.

This is heart on the sleeve and insightful all at the same time.

I had wondered how different life would be for those courageous enough to make the leap into the unknown.

This paragraph is particularly beautiful

The people I used to know are busy and I do not bother them. I have nothing to say. There are no common interests anymore, no familiarity of spirit ... just a bit of shared history now tainted with suspicion, repressed anger and the repose in their demeanour, which to me, suggests I am now a proven, betrayer in their eyes. I knew this would be so and I had prepared myself for its inevitability.

Michelle said...

Thank you for your kind words Petermcc.

It's been a tough year yes... tougher than some I've had this past 47 years. Thing is though, is that I learn more in the tough years than I could learn in a thousand lifetimes of great years. Most of it good :)

Thanks for reading :)

Petermcc said...

I have to say this post really rocked me. It sounds like you have made the break without a support team. If so I have never seen anyone one do that before and I have seen plenty of folk walk.

This is the exact opposite of a friends blog from last week. He is celebrating(?) his 21st Wedding Anniversary. After a bit of banter to and fro he went into serious mode and made the comment "He didn't want to die alone".

I was shocked. It sounds like an unhealthy compromise and for one who is only in his early 40's.

This post would definitely make it up on Harlot's Sauce.

cheers

Michelle said...

Actually, I did have a massive support team right at the time of the initial decision to move. It has drifted away somewhat in recent months though. My family still keep me on the straight and narrow as loving families do though so its all good. :)

Perhaps its that I have be so sequestered away (very difficult to "get out and socialise" on one's own etc)... that things are as they are now. I don't know. I'm prepared for practically anything at anytime these days. That's how changeable life can be post "til-death-do-us-part".

As for your friend and not dying "alone" - it says more about his inner world, as that currently stands, than it does about his marriage. If one feels bereft without the presence of another, it means a sort of umbilical cord of dependence was never cut and tied during a critical moment long since forgotten.

The strength to be our Self when all else fails to buoy us up is tempered through having to face the very things we fear the most. A newborn has to face the cutting of his tie to what has nourished him in the past, just as a man (or woman) is sometimes forced to face the cut ties of relationships.

When we are able to be our Self we are never actually "alone", just occasionally a bit lonely.

Anonymous said...

How sad your blog made me feel Michelle. A once valued friendship so easily tossed aside. A wise secondary school teacher once told me that you get from friendships what you put in. This past couple of years our friendship has taken a battering. Perhaps if you had had the courage to be more honest about what was really going on in your head and your heart you would have found more support than you realised. Not once did you tell me how unhappy you were in your marriage. I stood in the wings watching your Cyber world replace reality. It felt like a kick in the guts to those close to you. I think that it is you who have shut us out not the other way. I have made several efforts for social contact with you, but it is rarely reciprocated. Just a text to say 'how are things" would have been great even if you didn't want to socialise. Our conversations have felt unnatural and forced, both of us afraid to open that can of worms I guess. I do miss the old days, lengthy chats over a decadent lunch. I always knew you would listen to my heartaches and joys and I hope you felt the same.
I do hope you find from life what it is you are looking for so desperately. True friendship will always find a way back. Honesty goes a long way to healing